CHAPTER 18
Everyone quickly resettled in their seats as Wrexford poured a glass of brandy and thrust it into Woodbridge’s hands.
“And now, Weasels,” he intoned, turning to fix the boys with a gimlet gaze. “Kindly explain yourselves.”
“We saw someone skulking in the trees,” replied Raven, refusing to be intimidated. “And as we didn’t know who it was, we decided it was better to be safe than sorry.” He lifted his chin. “There’s already been one murder. Hawk and I wanted to ensure there wouldn’t be another.”
The earl repressed a twitch of his lips. The little imps had cleverly seized the opportunity to handle the ancient weapons. But it was impossible to be angry, for he knew they would fight with tooth and nail if need be to protect Charlotte from harm.
“Trouble might be lurking anywhere,” added Hawk. “We can’t afford to let our guard down.”
Harper, who was stretched out in front of the hearth, lifted his massive head and thumped his tail in agreement.
Woodbridge shivered and took a gulp of brandy. “I wasn’t skulking. I was coming to take responsibility for my own cork-brained actions, rather than remain cowering like a lily-livered coward behind my sister’s skirts.”
“A noble sentiment,” murmured Alison. “But then, I’ve never heard an ill word about your character, young man.”
Woodbridge made a face. “Well, clearly, my intelligence deserves to be questioned.”
Cordelia fixed him with a stern look. “You were supposed to stay in the carriage with Professor Sudler and help him keep guard over his invention.”
“We both agreed it was unmanly to allow you to, er . . .” He glanced at Harper. “To face the wolves, as it were, on your own.”
“As you see,” murmured Charlotte, “no one has yet been eaten alive.”
Cordelia’s brother scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “The truth is, I deserve to be fed to the lions in the Tower Menagerie.” The sunlight caught the faint glimmer of gold from the stubbled whiskers. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and somehow that made him look younger and more vulnerable.
“I know I’m not as clever as Cordelia,” he continued after expelling a ragged sigh. “I just want to take care of my estate and my tenants. A gentleman has a duty to be a good steward of the land and pass it on to future generations.”
Wrexford felt an unexpected twinge of sympathy. In truth, he found Woodbridge a likable fellow who didn’t appear to have an ounce of guile or cunning to his nature.
Charlotte seemed to have the same reaction, for she flashed him a sympathetic smile. “We all have our strengths, Lord Woodbridge. Yours are equally important as those of your sister.”
“But I made a mull of it.” He looked stricken. “What a gudgeon I was to believe—”
The rest of his words were suddenly swallowed in a deep-throated bark from Harper.
The earl spun around. He, too, had heard the faint click-click in the adjoining room, where a door led out to the back terrace. The hound was by his side in a flash, and the two of them hurried into the corridor.
A yelp sounded. Ignoring Charlotte’s whispered warning, Raven snatched up the Elizabethan small sword.
But before he could move, Wrexford and Harper returned.
And between them was a rotund little man with bushy brows and long silver hair tied back in an old-fashioned queue.
He was wearing a shapeless brown coat with oil stains around the cuffs.
“I take it,” said Charlotte, “that we are about to meet the elusive Professor Sudler.”
Cordelia chuffed an exasperated sigh. “Isaac, you’re supposed to be standing guard over your Engine.”
“It seemed rather pointless, as I have no idea how to aim and fire a pistol.” Sudler’s brow furrowed. “Such a primitive mechanism. The engineering could be greatly improved. If one made a cartridge that contained both the bullet and—”
“Let us leave ballistics aside for now,” she gently chided. “We need to talk about numbers.”
“Yes, numbers,” said Wrexford. “Lady Cordelia was just about to tell us why they are adding up to murder and mayhem.”
“That’s because greed became the most important part of the equation for the miscreants.” Sudler tugged at his cuff. “I know what the numbers tell me. But alas, my tongue tends to be clumsy. Lady Cordelia is much better with words, so she had better explain it.”
“Your tongue may be clumsy, but your hands aren’t,” said the earl. “Your workshop is a marvel. As is your prototype.”
The professor’s expression clouded. “The Computing Engine is meant to be used as a force for progress, not manipulated for personal greed.”
“That’s why we’re here. To ask for help to ensure that it’s not used to do evil,” said Cordelia.
Sudler nodded, but shadows hovered beneath his lashes.
After a moment of hesitation, she knotted her hands together in her lap and resumed her explanation.
“Before I return to the dastards and their scheme, I should first explain how Isaac and I came to be friends and mathematical collaborators. We met when Jamie was studying at Cambridge and attended the professor’s lectures on mathematics.
I confess, I occasionally dressed as a man so I could sneak in and hear them, too. ”
“Brilliant gel,” said Sudler with a fond smile. “Far smarter than any of the young fribbles at the university.”
“We met at several soirees and became close. Since then, we’ve corresponded regularly, and he’s often visited our estate,” she went on.
“I’ve been helping him for several years on thinking through the concept of his mechanical Computing Engine and what mathematical operations it could possibly perform.
When I began planning to start my own business, we designed some practical tests on how to put its power into practice. ”
Cordelia cleared her throat with a cough.
“For now, suffice it to say, we can run certain basic computations at a speed that provides an edge in making certain business transactions. However, the full capabilities of the Computing Engine are still theoretical. It will take years to figure out the final design.”
Alison gave a curt wave. “I doubt I would understand it even if you tried to explain. So I’m happy to have you skip over a more detailed explanation.”
Raven appeared about to protest, but a look from Charlotte warned him to stay silent.
“Never fear, lad,” murmured Wrexford. “You’ll have a chance to learn the details.”
“And now,” said Cordelia, “I’ll recount exactly how Jamie became involved in Argentum.”
“Credula est spes improba,” murmured the professor.
“He who lives on hope dances without music,” translated Charlotte. “Alas, very true.”
“Actually, it should be me who explains my folly,” said Woodbridge.
“I foolishly talked among my friends about how brilliant and clever my sister is.” He darted a fond smile at Cordelia.
“I’m proud of her intellect, and I mentioned her wondrous mathematical talent and her work on a revolutionary Computing Engine.
Shortly after that, I was approached by a friend, who asked if I might be interested in working on a hush-hush enterprise created by the East India Company.
He gave me some Canterbury tale about the need for secrecy.
It had something to do with not letting a trading consortium on the Continent get wind of the idea. ”
“And you naturally believed him,” mused Charlotte.
“Yes. One assumes one’s friends are telling the truth,” replied Woodbridge. “And the fact that I was guaranteed a large profit made me even more gullible.”
“But why you in particular?” asked the earl.
“Because they said they needed a titled gentleman to secure bank loans so no one would know the money was being raised for the East India Company.”
“But why did the East India Company need to raise outside money?” asked Charlotte. “From what I’ve heard, their coffers are overflowing.”
“I know, I know. I should have smelled a rat.” His voice took on a bitter edge. “Cordelia did, but the henchman—the Cobra—had another Canterbury tale to explain the reason.”
Wrexford was suddenly beginning to see the pieces of the puzzle and how they fit together. “Actually, I would venture to guess that the board of directors doesn’t know about this enterprise. The conspirators are operating a private business within the Company.”
“Yes, that’s my surmise, though I have to believe it’s being run by someone in a very senior position,” said Cordelia.
“Whoever put together the idea is using Company assets, like ships and trading partners, as part of their illicit scheme. And they’ve set up fraudulent trading accounts on the Company’s ledgers to keep track of the profits and pay out the bribes to the various partners, making them appear to be legitimate Company business.
Henry Peabody somehow stumbled across the truth and tried to stop the scheme by giving us copies of the ledgers. ”
“Who is the friend who approached you?” Wrexford asked, finally feeling they were getting somewhere.
“The Honorable David Mather,” answered Woodbridge. “But my sense is they have some hold over him, too, and forced him to find a likely pigeon.”
“It seems the dastards have been very careful to shroud themselves in secrecy,” mused the earl.
“And clever. They had Mather find a respectable aristocrat with lands to guarantee any loan. Only Mather and Hoare’s bank knew of Woodbridge’s financial troubles, and they keep mum about such things.
There’s a code of silence and discretion within the banking world. ”
Sheffield looked at Cordelia’s brother. “Which meant the other banks willing to do business with you also kept the information private. And with one hand not knowing what the other was doing, you were able to borrow far more than your actual assets should have allowed.”
Woodbridge’s grimace confirmed the surmise.
“So, now we know the background,” intoned the earl. “What went wrong?”
* * *
The echo of the words seemed to linger, reverberating again and again against the dark wood paneling.