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Truman rolled his eyes. “Of course not. You want me to make the match. But something has to be wrong with her. Otherwise, His Grace would have promised her to someone else, someone who isn’t in the midst of such scandal.”
“Maybe not. His Grace was a good friend of your father’s. He has always been partial to you.”
Which is why Truman felt an added obligation. He wanted to remain true to his legacy. To do as his parents would wish. To fulfill what he’d always perceived as his destiny.
He’d just never expected his heart to put up such a fight. “I know.”
“At least you like Penelope’s family.”
“There’s little question I prefer them to the Abbotts.” Truman studied Katherine’s portrait. “Linley?”
His butler followed his gaze. “Yes?”
“Could you imagine Jonas Cutberth having anything to do with the fire?”
“Jonas? I hope not. I’ve always held him in high regard. He’s been the clerk for Stanhope & Co. for… more than a decade.”
“And, according to my steward, he’s very efficient.”
“Not that the same could be said for your steward.”
Truman allowed himself a wry smile. Linley rarely spoke ill of anyone, but he had little good to say about Wythe. “Which is why I appointed him steward over the mine instead of any of my other holdings. At least having him close means I can keep an eye on him.”
“A wise choice on your part, I must say.”
“But be that as it may… could you see either man being tempted into a plot to steal rare paintings?”
“You’re asking about Wythe, too?”
Until now, Truman had been careful not to mention his doubts about his cousin to anybody, including his beloved butler. He had no proof to back up his suspicion, no reason to cause Linley to dislike Wythe any more than he already did. But he needed to voice his concerns to someone, needed to hear whether he was losing his mind. “Yes.”
“Cutberth has the brains to be able to mastermind such an elaborate plan, but I can’t imagine he has the heart for it.”
“And Wythe?”
He sighed. “I would say the opposite is true for Wythe, my lord.”
This time, Truman laughed out loud. “We seem to be of the same mind.”
Linley used his cane to help heave the bulk of his weight forward. “Why do you ask? Has someone suggested that either man might be responsible for Katherine’s death?”
“Rachel did.” And Truman thought there might be something in the account books to support it.
He pursed his lips. “So she knows details of the fire, after all.”
“Largely that Cutberth is no friend to me. He’s secretly been trying to form a union at the mine.”
Linley rocked back. “Not Cutberth. He makes a fine living. Why would he sow seeds of contention?”
“Empathy would probably be the noblest of the reasons I could name. Gaining power and influence among his peers would be the least.”
“But you can’t discount the possibility.”
“No.”
He managed, with some difficulty, to get to his feet. “How does Rachel know his business?”
She’d supported him, worked with him and admitted as much. But Truman was too protective of her to mention it. “He’s been to her house.”
“On union business?”
“Yes. I’m sure her father was more than willing to join his efforts.”
“That hardly seems loyal of Mr. Cutberth, my lord.” Linley came forward. “What are you going to do?”
“What I’ve been planning to do for some time. I’ll increase wages across the board—for everyone except Cutberth. I can’t bring myself to reward his duplicity, not when I already pay him more than he’d be making anywhere else.”
“Are you sure you want to give in that easily? Won’t that set a bad precedent?”
“It’s a bad precedent that I want to be fair? I don’t see how. The price of coal is up. I was already thinking about instituting a profit-sharing program. I talked to Wythe about it months ago.”
Linley grimaced. “I can guess what he had to say. He told you that you don’t know the character of the men. That if you give them more money, they’ll just spend it on drink. Am I right?”
“He didn’t like the idea, but I will make sure he understands I am no longer leaving the matter in his hands.”
Linley adjusted his jacket. “One thing… what happens when the price of coal goes down? How do you take that money away once you’ve given it?”
“It won’t be a decision I make. There will simply be less profit to share, and Cutberth’s own records will attest to that. I don’t run the market.”
“More’s the pity.” He nodded in satisfaction. “I doubt anyone could quarrel with such an offer. There will be no reason to fight for what they’re already getting. And they’ll continue to produce or there will be no extra income for anyone.”
“That’s the way I see it.”
“It’s brilliant. A model I hope others will copy.” He cleared his throat. “But if you will allow me to return to what you told me a moment ago.”
Truman dipped his head.
“What was it that made Rachel connect Cutberth to what happened here two years ago?”
Truman showed him the ledgers and explained what Rachel had told him, including what she’d said about Elspeth.
“Good luck getting anything out of her,” Linley said.
“Maybe Wythe can do it.”
“If only we could trust Wythe.”
“If only we could find one of those damn paintings!”
Linley tapped the desk. “We’ll have plenty of time to look once you write that letter. I wouldn’t want the duke’s emissary to leave without it.”
“You want me to marry another woman I don’t love.”
“You have to marry someone, my lord, someone with a proper lineage and connections. You need an heir.”
But no matter whom he married, he’d never be able to forget the bookseller’s daughter. No woman had ever stirred his blood the way she did. He wished she was waiting in his bed right now. “And Rachel? Would you have me send her to a city where she knows no one?”
“I like her, my lord. I do. But she would be as out of place in your world as you would be in hers.”
