“My conscience senses her wrath,” Briggs said. “A man of your position does not simply give away his fortune. Can you not look at the investments we discussed last time? I brought the paperwork with me. Ifwe invest slowly, there is a chance you will come out of this ahead—or at the very least, maintain your present income.”
I did not deserve what I had. None of my efforts had earned anything, and I had a pressing debt to a stranger to repay that weighed on me night and day. “I have gambled enough over those sorts of investment ideas. I am tired of them. This one has value beyond money. Our finances will be tighter for a time, but we will recover. Besides, my mother has her jointure, and my sister’s dowry will remain untouched.” It was all I could say in my defense. Briggs would never understand. No one would. I had done nothing but squander money before my accident. And now I watched my mother do the same.
My eyes had been opened to my own failings. I saw what it was like to have nothing. The humbling experience had shaken me to my very core. If not for the kindness and generosity of one good soul, I would not be alive today. Now it was my turn to give back. “There is no use discussing Mother any longer.” My voice was decisive. Final. “She will have to accept my decision.”
Briggs seemed on the verge of saying something, but resisted.
“What is it?”
Briggs cleared his throat and fumbled to clear the hair off his forehead. “There is one matter we have not discussed, and that is the expectations of your future wife.”
I knew it was inevitable, and I was almost ready to push forward on an arrangement. But the term wife had always had a romantic connotation to it. At the moment, thinking romantically about a woman left a bad taste in my mouth. Especially after Mary Anne. I had wasted years of my life for that woman. I had tried to climb out of the hole she had pushed me into before my attack, but it was not until those early weeks ofrecovery that I was fully able to sever the last of my emotional attachment to her.
I was not against marriage, but I had no intention ofwinninganyone over. The women I knew acted like they wanted love, but it was all a front for their greed. “I suppose whomever I marry will have to love me for my title alone,” I joked. But there was no humor in it for me.
Briggs shifted uncomfortably. “If you say so, my lord.”
Briggs did not have much of a sense of humor.
I sighed. “It is what it is. If I continue to invest in these hospitals, my future wife and family will have to live on my reduced income. It is not as if we will be poor. The servants will retain their positions and the tenants in their home, but we will have to economize in other areas. My sister can have a short Season, but perhaps not an entire wardrobe to go with it. And I will have to tell Mother that she can forgo her extended trip to the seaside.” These were reasonable measures, and in my opinion, the least we could do. I pulled out my pen in a show of determination. With a dip of the steel nib into the ink, I signed the papers.
A wave of pleasure rushed over me. In this one action, a portion of my past seemed to melt into the distance. Once it was all behind me, I could truly be the new person I wanted to be.
“What more can I do for you, your lordship?” Briggs asked, gathering the papers back into his satchel.
I clasped my hands on top of the polished cedar surface of my desk. “I have to find her, Briggs.”
Briggs did not question who theherwas that I meant. No one knew more than Briggs about how adamant I was to find my savior. “I hear her singing in my dreams.”
He folded his arms and studied me. “Have you discovered any more clues?”
“No. My dreams are the same. The song is the same. But the words—the words elude me.”
“The detective will find her.”
“Mr. Blackwood’s reports are useless. He has discovered nothing, even though you assured me he was the best in the country.”
“At least he is ruling out options. That is important too.”
“I suppose,” I grumbled. Mr. Blackwood did not think my friends were involved, but I could not be so certain. “As for my recent trip to London, it did not produce any solid answers either.”
Briggs’s narrow brow scrunched together. “I am sorry for your frustrations. I hope it will please you to know I hired a second private investigator as you requested. Mr. Gregory’s manners are lacking, but he does have the reputation for discovering the elusive. He will focus solely on searching for this mystery woman.”
“Good. I am starting to believe Mr. Blackwood incapable. This should simplify his efforts.” I wanted to believe that Mr. Gregory would part the waters and miraculously find my rescuer, but it had been six long months without any further clues. I cleared my throat. “The papers say cholera is stealing lives right and left. You do not think she is sick somewhere, do you?”
“Anything is possible.”
I knew I sounded like a complete dunderhead, worrying without cause. I appreciated that Briggs did not mince words or disparage me. He was frank, reliable, and I trusted him with all of my secrets. “Thank you for helping me. You are a dependable ally, and I do not possess many of those these days.”
Briggs studied me for a moment as if he did not believe me. Indeed, I believe my declaration made him uncomfortable. “Surely not. You always have a crowd of followers vying for your friendship.”
I shook my head. “Vying for mymoneyand the benefit of my position, no doubt. But that will not be for much longer. Not after I shame myself by giving away my inheritance.”
For some reason my mind strayed to Augusta’s lady’s companion. We would not be able to afford such a luxury once I had fulfilled my charitable donations. Suddenly, Miss Lewis’s terrified face crept over my vision from our time together in the pond. Instinctively, I wanted to see that she was cared for, but I shook my head to dispel the image. However, it was not so easy to rid my mind of the soft lilac scent that lingered in the corridors in her wake, or how impossibly attached Augusta had already become. Regardless, I had to be practical about some of my decisions. Miss Lewis would find another position. I felt sorry for her, truly, but a strong letter of recommendation when the time came would be enough for helping her with her second chance.
Briggs pulled out the summary from my original private investigator. I had already read through the report a dozen times, and my mind wandered back to Miss Lewis as Briggs discussed each point.
Why had she felt more and more familiar to me? Where had I seen her before? I thought once more about the moment she had stumbled over her name when we had first met. And then to last night when she had alluded to not having any options in her life. What did that mean? I scratched at the top of my neck, just above my necktie, as I tried to piece together each clue to create a plausible conclusion.
