Page 85 of Hearts of Briarwall

“Andrew! Spencer is your friend.”

“Is he?” He tore his glare from Spencer and met her gaze. “I’ve just been on the telephone while you’ve been out here doing—”

“Kissing. It’s called kissing, brother, you should try it sometime.”

Andrew ignored her. “I received a call from a Mr. Burnett.” He turned to Spencer, who had gone very still. “I was actually considering buying into your shops, even before Lydia told me of her plans. A silent partner of sorts. What are older siblings for, after all, if not to lend support from afar.”

Lydia frowned, confused.

“Naturally, I had my solicitor look into your standings as a basic precaution, expecting nothing but the records of an honest man steering his future from the seeds his father had planted.”

“Andrew, it’snothow it looks.” Spencer’s voice held an edge to it.

“Isn’t it?” Andrew stepped forward again.

Hero whined and lowered himself to the floor next to Lydia.

“Imagine my shock, then,” he continued, “learning your father stole thousands of dollars and then lost it in an illegal investment scam.”

Lydia drew in a sharp breath.

“It was a bakery,” Spencer whispered.

“Do you defend him?”

He swallowed and shook his head. “No. I was going to tell you when the time was right.”

“And when was that? After the funds had transferred to your accounts?”

“I haven’t accepted any funds yet.”

“Yet.”

“Excuse me,” Lydia said, her voice a squeak. “Did you say a bakery?”

Andrew nodded. “A chain of bakeries. Bread and Biscuits—sound familiar?”

It wasn’t a unique name.

“William Hayes and Charlie Floyd opened up a chain of bakeries for the lower and middle class, all in the name of providing affordable food in larger amounts for theEveryman. Only, they took the investors’ money, pocketed half, and made the baked goods with plaster, chalk, and alum. Sound familiar now?”

She looked at Spencer. It was a very similar business plan to his motorcar shop except for the dastardly parts. “Is that true?”

He kept his shoulders and gaze squared to Andrew. “My father said he didn’t know about the fillers. He said that Floyd crossed him.”

“Do you believe him?”

He breathed, his jaw tight.

“People nearly died, Hayes.Childrennearly died.”

Lydia gasped, stepping away to face Spencer. She had to hear it from him. “Tell me what happened.”

Slowly, he shifted his gaze to Lydia’s. He still held her arm, gently, and made no move to let go. It felt precarious ... a tether as fragile as a spiderweb.

She saw him swallow, and he opened his mouth. “In my last year at Oxford, I went home with an idea to modernize the carriage business. To transition to motorcar taxis. Father wouldn’t hear of it. Too much overhead, too much of a gamble, too much time to retrain all his employees.” He flickered a look at Andrew. “He saw motorcars as a flash in the pan. Horses were his business.”

Looking out at the rain, he shook his head. “Not wanting to give up, I shared another idea, about getting investors for a motor supply chain. He brushed that aside as well. We argued. I didn’t understand. What had he sent me to school for? To come home and work the family business into the grave? I was disappointed, but I returned to school, unable to ignore that my future might not be with my father’s business.”

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