The Importance of Being Wicked. Victoria Alexander
needed. It was, all in all, the kind of chat she might have had with any friend or female relation although she couldn’t quite dismiss the growing conviction that Lady Fairborough wanted nothing more than for her son to find fiancée number four and for whatever reason, she considered Miranda a suitable candidate. That was certainly not going to happen.
For one thing, he didn’t especially seem to like her. Admittedly, every time he had made an attempt to be witty or charming she had cut him off. She wasn’t entirely sure why. Although there were any number of reasons. Even though she had told Clara she intended to be more amenable to his lordship’s charms she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do so. Not that he had made any particular effort to charm her. Which was most annoying. But she did wish to appear professional and certainly Lord Stillwell would not flirt with her if she were a man.
Then there was that whole business about the appeal of a wicked man. She would never admit to Lady Fairborough that she had always rather wanted a man who was a bit wicked. Not that she would ever have one. She was not the type of woman to seek out a man of that nature, and they certainly didn’t fall into her lap. She was not unattractive but considered herself more ordinary in appearance than truly pretty. Rakes and rogues did not attempt the seduction of women of ordinary appearance and reserved demeanor. Which was for the best, really. She wasn’t nearly strong enough to handle such a creature and he would surely break her heart. She would much prefer to avoid that, thank you very much.
Still, his lordship had said she was the kind of woman who got what she wanted and would use whatever means necessary to do so. She’d never thought of herself that way. Indeed, she’d always thought she was rather weak-willed and acquiescent. His assessment had been surprising and most flattering, even if he obviously didn’t mean it as a compliment. Perhaps she was changing, evolving as it were. Or perhaps she already had. It was a shocking idea and oddly satisfying.
Finally, Miranda gently but firmly insisted it was time for her to take her leave if she was to return to London at a reasonable hour.
“I quite enjoyed our little chat, Lady Garret. We shall have to do it again.” Lady Fairborough accompanied her to the parlor door. “And do give my best to your mother.”
“Lady Fairborough.” Miranda chose her words with care. “Might I say something to you in the strictest confidence?”
“A secret?”
“More or less.”
Lady Fairborough shook her head in a mournful manner. “Oh, I’m afraid I’m not very good at keeping secrets. Especially if it is a particularly juicy, scandalous secret. They simply beg to be passed on. Is it? Especially juicy and scandalous, that is?”
“No, not really.” Perhaps if she underestimated the extent of the secret the older woman would be less inclined to share it. And in truth, as secrets went, this one was relatively minor. At least when compared with the pursuit of a divorce. Not that it mattered really. This particular secret’s days were already numbered. “It’s no more than mildly interesting.”
“Oh.” Lady Fairborough’s face fell. “Well, I daresay I can keep that. Please, go on.”
“My mother, and the rest of my family, have no idea of the extent of my involvement with Garret and Tempest. That I am here representing the firm.”
“I see.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “And you’re afraid they will disapprove?”
“To my knowledge, there has never been a woman in my family engaged in business. I am unique in that regard. To be honest, I have no idea what my family’s reaction might be.” Without thinking, she squared her shoulders. “Not that it matters, really. Of course, now that I have taken Mr. Clarke’s place on this project they will, no doubt, learn of this eventually, but I would prefer to tell them myself.”
“Very courageous of you, my dear.” Lady Fairborough nodded approvingly. “It’s not easy to stand up to one’s family. But, of course, you haven’t done that yet, have you?”
The woman’s pleasant smile took the bite out of her words.
Miranda smiled. “Apparently I’m not as courageous as you thought.”
“Or you let your head lead your heart. It’s very sensible of you.” Her gaze locked with Miranda’s. “Or very foolish.”
“Excellent timing, Chapman.” Win closed the library door behind him and waved his visitor to the chair positioned in front of the desk in the library. “Lady Garret left a good half an hour ago.” He took his seat behind the desk and drew a deep breath. “Have you found out anything?”
“I have,” Phineas Chapman said in a mild manner that seemed at odds with the man’s reputation as a tenacious investigator. But then Win wasn’t sure what he had expected. “However, it seems there are more questions than answers at this point.”
Chapman was the stepbrother of Viscount Billingsworth. He had been raised alongside the large Billingsworth brood and was the youngest of the lot. Chapman was considered quite brilliant and had started out in scholarly endeavors. Apparently that life did not prove especially interesting and Chapman had turned his inquisitive mind to the ferreting out of secrets and locating that which had gone missing, be it an object of value or a person. He was both successful and discreet, which made him highly sought after by those in society who needed his services. Services which were, as well, not inexpensive. Win had learned all this before their first meeting from Camille, whose information as always came from Beryl. Win did like to know exactly who he was dealing with. Camille had also informed him that Chapman was quite dashing with dark hair and piercing green eyes, which was neither here nor there to Win but probably did come in handy in Chapman’s line of work.
“Go on.”
“Much of what I have found out is common knowledge and you probably already know it.”
“Let’s pretend I don’t.”
“Very well.” Chapman pulled out a small notebook from an inner pocket of his coat and glanced at it. “Garret and Tempest was founded by Lady Garret’s late husband. His brother, then Viscount Garret, was either unable or unwilling to provide the funding necessary for his younger brother’s endeavor. A private investor, one Mr. Tempest, came forward with a sizable investment, thus funding the business.”
Win stared. “Mr. Tempest is a financier then and not the architect?”
“My lord.” Chapman met Win’s gaze firmly. “I prefer to reveal my findings in a chronological manner, much as I prefer to consider them in progression. I find it much more conducive to reaching a logical conclusion. Therefore, may I continue?”
“Yes, well, I suppose. Go on then.”
“Thank you. As I was saying, Mr. Tempest funded the company some nine years ago with the provision that the firm carry his name and, naturally, that he be repaid over time.”
“Has the debt been repaid?”
Chapman raised a chastising brow.
“Yes, of course, you’ll get to that.”
“Now, as they say, the plot thickens. According to the original agreement between Mr. Tempest and Lord Garret—Mr. Garret at the time—repayment was to be made out of the firm’s profits. According to what I have been able to discover, there were years when, after expenses and debts and salaries were met, there were no particular profits to speak of and no payments made to Mr. Tempest. In addition, it appears Lord Garret continued to borrow from Mr. Tempest and while the debt is no greater than the original sum, at the time of his lordship’s death it was not considerably smaller. As far as I can determine, Lady Garret has no knowledge of this financial discrepancy.”
Win started to ask why Mr. Tempest didn’t demand payment but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut.
“It wasn’t until a year after Lord Garret’s death, when Lady Garret began to take an active role in the company, that regular monthly payments were made.” He