CHAPTER 24 #2
“A damnably complicated one,” answered the earl.
Unwilling to add cowardice to his earlier missteps, he forced himself to meet Charlotte’s gaze.
“I recognized your description of the stick. It belongs to Copley, and it appears that the baron is not quite the shining light that Society thinks he is. There’s a dark side to his business talents and his benevolent generosity . . .”
Wrexford quickly recounted the meeting, stripping it down to the bare bones of the dilemma.
“I took a calculated risk, assuming I was right in my conclusion before having proved it. Which, of course, broke the cardinal rule of scientific inquiry.” He spun his cup between his palms. “Forgive me for being such a bloody fool. I fear I’ve put all of us in danger. ”
“There’s a good chance he’s lying,” pointed out Sheffield.
“He’s certainly mastered the art of deception.” Wrexford thought back on the conversation and the subtle flickers in Copley’s eyes. “But I don’t think so. And if he’s just another fly caught in this malicious web . . .” He paused for breath.
Sheffield’s expression turned uncertain.
As for Charlotte, she was staring down at her hands, her lowered lashes making it impossible to read her thoughts.
“Then the master spider who’s weaving it now has the advantage over us,” Wrexford finished. “We have to assume Copley will warn him.”
Harper shifted in his sleep, a growl rumbling deep in his throat.
“On the contrary.” Charlotte lifted her chin, steel flashing in her gaze. “We’ve seen in the past that poking a stick at predators can force them to improvise. And that’s when mistakes can happen. I say we continue the offensive.”
Wrexford guessed what she meant. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t imagine you do,” she countered. “But if A. J. Quill stirs some questions about the East India Company’s business practices, that will breathe added fire on the dastards.”
“Making them determined that it’s A. J. Quill who gets burned to a crisp.”
“I know how to take care of myself.”
He bit back a retort. An argument would only flare into a war of words, and that might only goad her into doing something even more damnably brave. As he wrestled with how to reply, Charlotte rose and found paper and pencil among Cordelia’s notebooks.
Bloody hell. One of her infernal lists was in the making. Wrexford wasn’t sure whether to laugh or howl at the heavens.
“We need to be clear about our objectives,” said Charlotte. “It seems to me we have two of them. First of all, we must save Lord Woodbridge from ruin. And secondly, we must see that the men who created Argentum are unmasked and punished for their misdeeds.”
“Is that all?” asked the earl. “While we’re at it, shall we also find a way to defeat Napoleon and end the war ravaging half the world?”
Charlotte resumed her seat at the table. “Sarcasm isn’t constructive, sir.”
“Neither is flinging a flaming arrow into the devil’s eye.”
Her brow furrowed. And then she began to laugh. “Oh, Wrexford, I shall keep that image in mind for one of my drawings when we’re ready to deliver the coup de grace.”
He couldn’t help surrendering a smile. “You’re incorrigible.”
“That little fact should have long ago ceased to surprise you.”
That Charlotte was a source of endless surprises spurred a wry chuckle. “Though I’ll likely regret asking, I’m assuming you have a plan.”
She squared the paper and tapped the pencil in a slow, steady rhythm against the tip of her chin. An unconscious habit, no doubt, to summon inspiration.
Tap, tap.
“If that’s some arcane pagan ritual for summoning divine intervention,” he said softly, “I devoutly hope that blood sacrifices aren’t required.”
“I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” she replied. Tap, tap. “I’m thinking . . .” Tap, tap.
The sound struck him as a distinctly human echo of the steel-and-brass brain churning away on the other side of the room.
Man versus machine. As someone dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, he couldn’t help but applaud the momentous advances that curious minds like his own were making.
But he wasn’t blind to the pitfalls of Progress, and its potential for bringing out the worst as well as the best in mankind.
Good versus Evil. Those two opposing forces seemed to be woven into the very flesh and blood of humanity.
Forcing us to fight a never-ending war between the light and dark sides of our nature.
It made Charlotte and her courage seem even more extraordinary.
After another moment, she paused and cocked an ear.
The Computing Engine was slowing, the noise dying away to a series of clicks and chirps.
“Lady Cordelia, if you and the professor have finished your work, it would be best if you both join in our council of war. There is, as you’ve shown, strength in numbers. ”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to kick those dastards in the . . .” Cordelia paused, realizing that Raven was right beside her. “In a spot that will hurt like hell.”
“Aim for the bollocks,” counseled the boy. “A man drops like a sack of stones when you hit his privies.”
Sheffield gave an involuntary wince.
“I shall keep that tidbit in mind, should the occasion arise,” replied Cordelia. “Come, Professor,” she added on hearing a loud thump from behind the Engine. “Lady Charlotte is summoning us to plan a strategy to beat the devils at their own game.”
Sudler extracted himself from the machinery and made his way to the table, blinking owlishly. As he took a seat, Cordelia plucked the grease-smeared spectacles from his nose, cleaned them with a napkin, and returned them to their perch.
“By Jove.” More blinks. “The dratted dog has eaten all the ham.”
“There’s more in the kitchen. Shall I go get it?” volunteered Hawk.
“Please do,” answered Wrexford. “But if I see one more sliver of it going down Harper’s gullet, you’ll both be banished to the mews.”
Charlotte’s tapping had ceased. “Let us turn our thoughts from filling our stomachs to something even more elementally important—ensuring that the high and mighty don’t gorge themselves on greed because no one will hold them accountable for their misdeeds.”
Sheffield shifted his chair and in a hushed murmur quickly explained to Cordelia and Sudler what they had missed.
The professor adjusted his spectacles. “I don’t see how we, a small band of individuals, can bring them to justice. Lady Cordelia is of the opinion that she and I might be able to buy her brother’s release from their clutches. But to be honest, I fear that is wishful thinking.”
“It won’t be easy,” replied Charlotte. “But it can be done.”
Wrexford was aware of all eyes turning to him. “I concur,” he said without hesitation.
For the look of gratitude that flickered beneath her lashes, he would have gladly agreed to journey to hell and back.
“It will require boldness and courage,” he continued, “but we have that in spades.”
“Thank you, Wrexford.” Pencil poised above the paper, Charlotte pursed her lips.
“Let’s first address freeing Woodbridge from Argentum’s control.
To do that we need two things—the money to repay the loans and the official documents that he signed making him the sole owner of Argentum Trading Company. ”
A cough from Sudler. “That’s only making me feel even more pessimistic.”
“It shouldn’t,” remarked Sheffield. “I have a feeling that Lady Charlotte has a plan, and in my experience, that bodes ill for any miscreant.”
“I do,” Charlotte said. “As Wrexford is fond of saying, one merely needs to apply logic to a problem, and it usually becomes simpler. To wit, let’s take the money.
All the arbitrage trading Lady Cordelia and the professor are running for Argentum is generating a constant source of it.
And my guess is that it’s being deposited into a bank account somewhere, until it’s time to purchase a bill of exchange to sail with a corrupt ship captain for the next round of buying opium in India. ”
“A bank account set up for Argentum Trading Company in order to have Woodbridge take the blame if anything goes awry,” mused Sheffield.
“Our thinking aligns, Lady Charlotte,” said Wrexford. “I’ve already begun making inquiries into which of the smaller private banks cater to a less than scrupulous clientele.”
“And I plan to meet with Jeremy in the morning, sir. He’ll likely have some ideas, as well,” Charlotte replied.
To Cordelia and Sudler, she explained, “Lord Sterling is an old friend, and his recent involvement in expansion plans for Mrs. Ashton’s mills has given him experience in financing commercial enterprises. ”
“Excellent, excellent,” said Sudler.
The earl wasn’t sure whether the professor was referring to banking matters or Hawk’s arrival with a platter of freshly sliced ham and a loaf of crusty bread.
Cordelia, however, appeared less certain.
“Even if we do discover where the dastards are stashing the money, I don’t see how it will do us much good.
Without the official documents to prove he’s the legal owner, Jamie won’t be able to touch it.
” A humorless smile thinned her lips. “So unless you possess a magical scrying glass to tell us where the dratted papers might be . . .”
“Magic is beyond my power,” cut in Charlotte. “However, I do have an idea.” She didn’t elaborate. “I’m hoping you have one key piece of information that may help indicate the spot. Have the dastards given you a date for completing your arbitrage trading?”
“They have,” replied Cordelia. “It’s Friday.”
Four days, thought Wrexford. We have four days to piece together the puzzle before the money sails for India. Likely taking with it all proof of the evils done to possess it.
A prodigious yawn from Sudler forestalled any further questions. The elderly professor’s shoulders had slumped, and his eyelids were beginning to droop.
Cordelia patted his arm. “Come, let me take you up to your bedchamber. It’s been a long night, and you need your rest.”