“How about if I buy you a new bonnet?”
Rose crossed to her sister and gave Cecily a tight hug. “That would be perfect.”
“Something to go with the one for the Blackmore Ball?”
“Even better.”
“You’ll have the eye of every man.”
“Dear God, let’s hope not. That would be a night of horrors.”
Cecily laughed. “I’m so glad you have been here for me.”
“Me too. Now go, before Mother accuses you of dawdling. Young ladies do not dawdle.”
Cecily gave her a quick kiss on the check, then skipped toward the front door. Rose almost closed her office door, when she realized her father stood in the doorframe of his study, watching his daughters. He gestured for her to follow him and retreated inside, the limp on his left side a bit more pronounced than usual.
Curious, she joined him. “Father? Are you well?”
“Merely tired. I did not see you at breakfast.”
She took off her spectacles and laid them at the edge of his desk. “I wanted to get started on a few things.”And finally write that blasted note.
He moved behind his desk and pointed to one of the chairs before it. “Please, sit. I have something you need to see.”
She did, and he handed her a folded newspaper, his finger indicating an article near the bottom of one page. She reached for her spectacles again and scanned the words.
Shipping Merger Rumored
The Fairside Shipping Corporation has purchased a major percentage of the Trident Warehouse and Storage Company through the acquisition of partner-held shares. Rumors of a potential merger of the two companies have rattled the shipping industry. If combined, the resulting company would control a major portion of the business along the docks, including warehousing and transportation vendors.
Rose looked up at the end of the first paragraph, confused. “You wanted me to read about shipping companies?”
Edmund nodded. “Trident is owned by Roger Bentley.”
Her eyes narrowed, an odd suspicion growing in her gut. “And...?”
“Fairside is one of the many corporations owned and controlled by the Duke of Kennet. Philip Ashton is making a move against Roger Bentley.”
Rose stilled, a memory crossing behind her eyes, the look in Thomas’s eyes when she’d told him that Bentley’s warehouses were on the docks. She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “Not Philip. Not the duke.” She met her father’s eyes. “It’s Thomas. It has to be.”
Edmund nodded, a look of curious pride in his eyes. “Which raises an important question. Why would the Ashtons declare war on Roger Bentley?”
Rose shook her head. “No. Thomas severed contact with me.” She told him about the note.
Edmund leaned back in his chair. “And Hernán Cortés burned his ships when he reached the New World. Sometimes when a man readies for battle, for the next mountaintop, he steps away from anything that would distract him—or anything that he might cause harm to in the process.”
“But—”
“Rose.” He leaned forward. “You should know that I quizzed Sarah about your rendezvous in the park with Lord Newbury.”
She froze, heat flushing her cheeks. “Oh. How much did she—”
“All of it.”
“Oh.”
“You cannot blame her. She is loyal to you, but I pay her wage.”
