Read Online The Way to a Duke's Heart: The Truth About the Duke by Caroline Linden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Caroline Linden
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canals.”
Charlie’s eyes narrowed. Canals were all the rage. He vaguely remembered vigorous debates over their efficacy, but he didn’t know much about them. Somehow he’d pictured the blackmailer as a scoundrel with expensive tastes, gambling debts or loose women or something equally ordinary. A canal must be accounted a very expensive endeavor—so expensive, in fact, five thousand pounds would hardly suffice to build it.
But what did that make Hiram Scott? Was he an innocent businessman, wrongly identified by a postal clerk as the man who sent those blackmail letters to Durham? Or was he a rank opportunist, with his fingers in a variety of pockets? For a moment Charlie wished he could quiz Mrs. Neville about the man, but he didn’t dare. Either she knew nothing about the blackmail, and therefore could tell him nothing, or she knew she was associating with an unscrupulous fellow, perhaps even approved of his actions, and was just as unlikely to reveal anything helpful.
“That fits with what the lad in the stable said,” Barnes went on. “Mrs. Neville engaged a travel chaise to take them toward Frome tomorrow, where they’re building a canal. Mrs. Bates is uneasy about the journey, and sent down a half-dozen requests for hot bricks and the like.”
That was no surprise. “Frome,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s rather near, isn’t it?”
“Close on a dozen miles.”
Charlie rose. “Excellent work, Barnes. Be sure to pack some good sherry. And hire a travel chaise, to depart tomorrow.” He had worn his horses into the ground lately, first coming to Bath from London and then helping Gerard retrieve his wife. As much as he preferred the luxury of the Durham coach, it was best to leave it in Bath, for many reasons. He caught up his hat and let Barnes help him into his coat, and left the hotel.
It was only a short walk to his brother’s town house, where he found Gerard fortunately at home. “Come in, come in,” Gerard said. “Bragg, bring the port,” he called to his batman, who nodded once and vanished.
“I trust I haven’t interrupted anything.” Charlie glanced from side to side. “Where is my charming sister-in-law?”
“Lying down. She felt a bit faint.”
Charlie drew a breath and waited, bracing himself for an announcement of impending offspring. It was clear to see his brother was utterly besotted with his new wife, and Charlie was sure he would be an uncle inside a year. But Gerard merely waved him toward a seat. “Have you learned something?”
“Hiram Scott is involved with the canals,” he told his brother. “It seems he was in town to meet with someone, armed with ledgers and maps.”
Gerard’s eyebrows went up. “So that’s it. I wonder why none of my queries turned him up?”
Charlie shrugged. “He didn’t seem overtly mysterious in his visit; he visited the post office and called upon a lady at the York, then left her a letter. He’s not staying at the hotel.”
“Hmm.” Gerard leaned back and kicked his feet out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. He frowned thoughtfully, his arms folded. “There are speculators around every corner in these parts. The coal fields, I suppose; that’s mostly what the canals transport through Bath. Still, I never heard of him.”
“You didn’t know you were looking for Hiram Scott,” said Charlie. “Perhaps you heard the name but had no reason to remember it.”
Gerard hesitated, but admitted, “That’s possible.”
“Or since he was blackmailing Durham, perhaps he wished to stay out of sight. Perhaps he wanted the money to purchase shares of his own and grew more desperate—or brazen—after Father died without paying him a penny. Who knows?” Charlie waved one hand, as though swishing away his own doubts about Scott’s motives. “Perhaps he’s gulling half of Parliament, and thinks himself too clever to be caught.”
His brother shot him a narrow-eyed look. “You haven’t forgotten what I said, about
Charlie’s eyes narrowed. Canals were all the rage. He vaguely remembered vigorous debates over their efficacy, but he didn’t know much about them. Somehow he’d pictured the blackmailer as a scoundrel with expensive tastes, gambling debts or loose women or something equally ordinary. A canal must be accounted a very expensive endeavor—so expensive, in fact, five thousand pounds would hardly suffice to build it.
But what did that make Hiram Scott? Was he an innocent businessman, wrongly identified by a postal clerk as the man who sent those blackmail letters to Durham? Or was he a rank opportunist, with his fingers in a variety of pockets? For a moment Charlie wished he could quiz Mrs. Neville about the man, but he didn’t dare. Either she knew nothing about the blackmail, and therefore could tell him nothing, or she knew she was associating with an unscrupulous fellow, perhaps even approved of his actions, and was just as unlikely to reveal anything helpful.
“That fits with what the lad in the stable said,” Barnes went on. “Mrs. Neville engaged a travel chaise to take them toward Frome tomorrow, where they’re building a canal. Mrs. Bates is uneasy about the journey, and sent down a half-dozen requests for hot bricks and the like.”
That was no surprise. “Frome,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s rather near, isn’t it?”
“Close on a dozen miles.”
Charlie rose. “Excellent work, Barnes. Be sure to pack some good sherry. And hire a travel chaise, to depart tomorrow.” He had worn his horses into the ground lately, first coming to Bath from London and then helping Gerard retrieve his wife. As much as he preferred the luxury of the Durham coach, it was best to leave it in Bath, for many reasons. He caught up his hat and let Barnes help him into his coat, and left the hotel.
It was only a short walk to his brother’s town house, where he found Gerard fortunately at home. “Come in, come in,” Gerard said. “Bragg, bring the port,” he called to his batman, who nodded once and vanished.
“I trust I haven’t interrupted anything.” Charlie glanced from side to side. “Where is my charming sister-in-law?”
“Lying down. She felt a bit faint.”
Charlie drew a breath and waited, bracing himself for an announcement of impending offspring. It was clear to see his brother was utterly besotted with his new wife, and Charlie was sure he would be an uncle inside a year. But Gerard merely waved him toward a seat. “Have you learned something?”
“Hiram Scott is involved with the canals,” he told his brother. “It seems he was in town to meet with someone, armed with ledgers and maps.”
Gerard’s eyebrows went up. “So that’s it. I wonder why none of my queries turned him up?”
Charlie shrugged. “He didn’t seem overtly mysterious in his visit; he visited the post office and called upon a lady at the York, then left her a letter. He’s not staying at the hotel.”
“Hmm.” Gerard leaned back and kicked his feet out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. He frowned thoughtfully, his arms folded. “There are speculators around every corner in these parts. The coal fields, I suppose; that’s mostly what the canals transport through Bath. Still, I never heard of him.”
“You didn’t know you were looking for Hiram Scott,” said Charlie. “Perhaps you heard the name but had no reason to remember it.”
Gerard hesitated, but admitted, “That’s possible.”
“Or since he was blackmailing Durham, perhaps he wished to stay out of sight. Perhaps he wanted the money to purchase shares of his own and grew more desperate—or brazen—after Father died without paying him a penny. Who knows?” Charlie waved one hand, as though swishing away his own doubts about Scott’s motives. “Perhaps he’s gulling half of Parliament, and thinks himself too clever to be caught.”
His brother shot him a narrow-eyed look. “You haven’t forgotten what I said, about
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