Page 94 of A Convenient Fiction

“And the profit you made selling the other properties?”

“I invested the proceeds from both the sale of the Dorset and the London properties into a canal scheme. It was guaranteed to be a success. I had it on good authority.” Weatherwax withdrew his handkerchief again and blotted the perspiration from his brow. “Unfortunately, the project ultimately failed, absorbing all of the stakeholders’ money. There is some residual litigation over the matter, but it appears unlikely that any of the investors will recoup their losses. Not to a significant degree. These are the risks of doing business—”

“My wife wants to see the relevant documents. Bills of sale, bank records, and the like. You will have them here by tomorrow morning. Send them by messenger. My wife is in no mood to see your face again.”

Weatherwax gaped. “But Mr. Archer—”

“Shall we say nine o’clock at the latest? That’s not too unreasonable.” Alex straightened to his full height. “And now, I require you to write a letter confessing everything you’ve done.”

Weatherwax leapt to his feet. “A confession!”

“It will save time later should you choose to deny your actions.” Alex collected blank paper, quill, and ink from Laura’s desk. He thrust them into the solicitor’s hands and ushered him out of the bookroom. “You may perform the task in the kitchen.”

The last thing Alex was going to do was leave the man alone with the household ledgers. God only knew what sort of underhand business he might get up to.

“Mr. Archer!” Mrs. Crabtree appeared in the hall, the tea tray in her hands. “The wedding guests are arriving!”

“I’ll fetch my wife.” Alex shoved Weatherwax forward. “In the meanwhile, if you would be so good as to show this fellow to the kitchens? He has some work to do.”

The housekeeper scowled at Weatherwax, but she asked no questions. In the Hayeses’ household, it seemed that the solicitor was universally known—and disliked.

Alex could muster no sympathy for the man. He’d crushed Laura’s dreams. Stolen the future she’d planned right out from under her. Alex was half tempted to thrash the fellow.

A fine sight that would be for Laura. Her new husband engaged in fisticuffs with the family solicitor on their wedding day.

He sighed heavily.

“What’s going on?” Teddy appeared in the hall in his wheeled chair. “And why the devil is Weatherwax here? I haven’t seen him since my father’s funeral.”

Alex looked at his new brother-in-law. “He brought news about your father’s will.”

“Bad news?”

“It isn’t good.” Alex frowned. Laura was accustomed to keeping things from her brother. Alex wasn’t so circumspect. He could see no reason for it. “You and I need to have a talk.”

Teddy’s face grew solemn. “Very well.” And then: “It’s about time.”

Later that evening Laura readied herself for bed with some trepidation. Alex was downstairs speaking with her brother. He’d said he’d join her in half an hour. Not to bed her, she didn’t think. It was their wedding night, true, but neither of them were in any mood for romance.

She’d stumbled through their wedding breakfast as if in a dream. Greeted their guests with a brittle smile pasted on her face, and partaken of Mrs. Crabtree’s carefully prepared dainties, never tasting a morsel. It had been so much sawdust in her mouth.

Alex had done better than she had. Every time she’d glanced in his direction, he was smiling or laughing. Ever the chameleon.

They’d had no time alone in which to talk. Even when the last guest had gone, there was still Teddy and Aunt Charlotte to contend with. It was an awkward business being a newlywed couple without a home of their own, or a place to depart to for their honeymoon. Instead, they were obliged to remain at Bramble Cottage, very much at loose ends.

Alex had occupied the time by assisting with moving Teddy’s things to a bedroom downstairs—a long overdue project that absorbed the remainder of the day.

Laura was grateful for her new husband’s consideration toward her family, but she owned to a certain sense of frustration.

What had happened with Mr. Weatherwax?

And what was Alex going to do now that there was no wealth or property to keep him here?

“It’s going to be all right,” he’d promised her.

Lord above, but she’d believed him.

It was a strange sensation to let someone else shoulder a burden. She felt both lighter in spirit, and a little queasy. How could she relinquish control over something so important? Not just her future, but Teddy’s?