The Edge of Desire by Stephanie Laurens

Author:Stephanie Laurens [Stephanie Laurens]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-04-25T02:40:42+00:00

Chapter 12

Christian accompanied Letitia to Montague’s office the next morning.

Montague was delighted to see them. He eagerly copied Christian’s notes on Randall’s current estate. When he came to the third share of the Orient Trading Company, he paused, brows rising. “Now that’s interesting. I didn’t find any mention of that when I looked into his finances before the marriage—but that was eight years ago.” He made a notation on his pad. “We’ll certainly find out everything we can about the company.”

Letitia frowned. “It doesn’t ring a bell? It’s not an investment company?”

Montague shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it. Most likely it’s a private company. But we have their representative’s address, so the details shouldn’t be hard to extract.”

“Have you uncovered anything about Randall’s original source of funds?” Christian asked.

“No, unfortunately.” Montague’s expression darkened. “I have to say that’s proving most…intriguing. I haven’t yet been able to track down any source prior to him setting up his London accounts when he moved to the city twelve years ago. But it has to be there—I will persevere.”

Reflecting that Montague’s choice of the words intriguing and persevere was apt—when it came to finances, he was a stickler for detail and a terrier for facts—Christian nodded and rose. “We’ll leave you to it.”

“To that”—Montague shuffled his notes—“and to toting up Randall’s present considerable wealth—which will necessarily involve a complete analysis of the Orient Trading Company’s worth.” Looking up, he smiled, then rose as Letitia did. He bowed to them both. “You may leave all that to me.”

They did. Returning to South Audley Street, they alighted before Randall’s steps. Barton stupidly let Letitia get a glimpse of him. Even across the width of the street, her contemptuous dagger-eyed glance scorched.

Christian drew her up the steps and through the door.

Ire lit her eyes. “That man!” Reaching up, she unpinned her veil. “Don’t you know anyone at Bow Street?”

Taking her arm, Christian steered her toward the dining parlor; Mellon had informed them that Hermione and Agnes were already at the luncheon table. “I probably could get Barton removed, but they’d only put someone else on the case.” He met Letitia’s eyes. “Much as he irritates you, he might well be a case of better the devil you know.”

She humphed, and let him lead her to the dining table and seat her at its end.

Hermione and Agnes were eager to hear of developments. While the footmen and Mellon were in the room, they had to be circumspect in what they said, but when the fruit was set before them, Letitia dismissed the staff and had Mellon close the door.

Lowering her voice, she told Hermione and her aunt that Justin was in town and safe with friends.

“Well that’s a relief.” Agnes reached for a fig.

“Yes, but,” Hermione said, “he can’t be free again until we catch the murderer.”

“Indeed.” Letitia was concentrating on the fig she was peeling, yet Christian registered her tone, sensed the same thread of something more deadening in Hermione, too.

The Vaux tended not to deal well with “nothing happening.

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