Chapter 6 #2
“Exactly,” Downshire agreed. “Lockhart wouldn’t put his entire life on hold unless he had a plan. And I’m afraid that plan revolves around Emma.”
“But why? Why would he give up all that he has for a woman that does not favor him?”
Downshire removed another paper from the file.
“The agents broke into his office and confiscated several ledgers. After reviewing them, they discovered multiple suspicious deposits every month from different clients. However, someone with the initials of A.B. has deposited ￡75 every month into Lockhart’s account for the past five years. ”
“Dare I ask if they discovered the identity of A.B.?”
Downshire shook his head as he extended him the paper. “No. The agents are attempting to identify all the clients that made monthly deposits.”
Reading the rather long list, Simeon asked, “All this money is being deposited into Lockhart’s account? Is any money going out?”
“It doesn’t appear so, but the most recent ledger disappeared along with Lockhart.
” Downshire picked up another paper. “There’s more.
A large stack of contracts was in the hearth when the agents searched the room.
Most of them were burned beyond recognition, but one managed to survive.
” He extended the paper across the desk.
“This is a re-creation of the contract.”
Simeon accepted that paper and began reading the copy.
He found himself growing incredibly infuriated at the renter’s contract.
It stated the rental price at one rate, but Lockhart charged the tenant an inflated monthly fee.
Furthermore, if the tenant defaulted on the payment, he would be required to pay a fee directly to Lockhart.
“This contract is rubbish. Lockhart was bamboozling the people in his own village,” he declared, tossing the paper onto the desk.
“It appears that way,” Downshire remarked. “He was the only solicitor in the town, and he exploited the citizens’ inability to read.”
“What a horrid man,” Simeon mumbled. “But none of this explains why he’s sabotaging Miss Pearson’s Season, assuming that it’s even him. There’s been no proof to corroborate that.”
Downshire sighed. “Who else could it be?”
Simeon sat back in his chair and asked, “Did Miss Pearson receive an inheritance after her father passed away?”
“She did,” Downshire confirmed. “Constable Pearson owned his cottage, the surrounding land, and a general store in town.”
“Was the store profitable?”
Downshire gave him a baffled look. “I suppose so. There were no liens on it when I sold it for Emma, and I negotiated a generous sum for her.”
“Have you sold the cottage or land off?”
Downshire shook his head. “No. That will be Emma’s decision, but there are tenants in the cottage.
Currently, she is earning a small income every month.
” He pressed his lips in a frown. “Mr. Lockhart had taken it upon himself to secure buyers for Emma’s land, and he was furious when I informed him that the land was not for sale. Irate would be a better word.”
“Did Constable Pearson have a savings?”
“A modest one,” Downshire shared, his expression growing curious. “Why are you asking all these questions?”
Simeon glanced over at the door. “Did you know that Miss Pearson went to Westmoreland House Boarding School in Witney?”
“I did know that, because I am her guardian,” Downshire said in a mocking tone.
Simeon frowned at the marquess’ tone. “Did you know that school costs thirty-five guineas a year?”
“I did not,” he replied, letting out a low whistle.
Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Simeon asked, “So the question remains, how did the daughter of a constable afford to go to an elite boarding school?”
“I cannot answer that, but perhaps Emma can,” Downshire suggested.
“No, she doesn’t know either.” He dropped his hand. “What of Miss Pearson’s relations?”
Downshire leaned back in his seat. “She has none.”
“None? I find that hard to believe.”
Rising from his chair, Downshire walked over to the window and looked out. “Emma’s paternal grandparents are buried near her father’s grave, and she learned from a young age that her mother’s parents died from diphtheria.”
“Poor Miss Pearson,” he found himself saying.
A knock came at the door. “Come in,” Downshire ordered.
The door opened, revealing Emma, and she let out a sigh of relief when her eyes landed on Simeon. “Oh, good. I found my protector. I was worried that you were abducted and were being held for ransom by a group of ruthless ruffians.”
He rose from his seat, slightly baffled. “And why would you think that?”
“Simple,” she remarked, smiling, “you weren’t outside.”
A chuckle came from behind him. “Please give Miss Cosette our regards when you see her,” Downshire requested.
Turning her smile towards her guardian, Miss Pearson replied, “I will. I am excited to visit her shop and collect my new gowns.” She shifted her gaze back to him. “Afterwards, I was hoping we could go to the square near Gunther’s and have some lemon ice.”
“I will agree to that only on one condition,” Simeon said, giving her a stern look.
She arched an eyebrow. “Which is?”
“You will behave, and there will be no more attempting to hoodwink me.”
Lowering her brow, Miss Pearson’s eyes had a mischievous twinkle in them. “You offend me, sir. I would never, ever, attempt to deceive a Bow Street Runner.”
Ignoring Downshire’s chuckle, Simeon cast her an irritated look.
Why did I come back today, he asked himself. However, he already knew that answer. Without Miss Pearson, he wouldn’t know when and where that meeting was with the Anti-Corn Law rebels.
Drat! When he signed up to be a Bow Street Runner, he never thought it would take him to the dangerous fields of a dress shop.