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“Diana Pearson and Florence Dervin.”
Albert’s eyes narrowed very slightly. “Pearson? The name sounds rather familiar but I cannot recall. Ah, but Miss Dervin, she must have left quite the impression on you last night.” He smirked. “And are you intending on pursuing one of them?”
“I want to.” He had to solve the mystery before him first, and to begin, he must spend more time in the two women’s company. “I will host a dinner tomorrow and invite her family,” he told Albert. “You and Emma are invited, too.” Emma was Albert’s nineteen-year-old sister.
“Oh, we shall be there. I am eager to be acquainted with these two charmers who have captured your gaze.” Albert grinned. “And you need a family.”
“I already have a family. I have you and Glover,” Matthew countered, and Albert guffawed.
“I mean wife, Matthew! You will find a wife takes away many of a man’s troubles.”
“Then why have you not married, Bert?” Matthew gave him a sideways glance.
“I have been considering it. After all, I have a house and a respectable fortune.”
Mathew had only considered marriage when he had been corresponding with Dee, and after his return, the notion had completely left his mind. Until now…
“Your Grace,” said a footman, and Matthew looked up. “Baron Crawford is here.”
Matthew scowled. “Show him to one of the salons. I will join him shortly.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The footman bowed and left.
“Are you expecting him?” Albert asked as Matthew stood.
“No, but I suspect he is here to talk about our failing business. Please excuse me, I won’t be a moment.”
Albert nodded.
As he walked back into the castle, he decided to invite Crawford to the dinner he would be hosting tomorrow evening to become better acquainted with him. He would likely require an ally to get to the bottom of this business debacle.
Chapter 7
“Stormwood,” Crawford said, rising from his chair when Matthew entered the salon, “forgive me for calling at this hour.”
“It is quite all right, Crawford.” Matthew walked to a table where a whiskey decanter sat. “What did you want to see me for?” He turned two tumblers and poured two fingers of whiskey into each.
“I have a suggestion on how to make our business more profitable,” Crawford said. “I have given our venture considerable thought, and I have no wish to withdraw my investment.”
Matthew handed him one of the tumblers before he went to stand by the fireplace because he had no wish to sit. “What do you have in mind?”
“We should change the accountant,” Crawford said simply.
Matthew’s brows drew over his eyes. “Mr. Newton has been the accountant for more than a decade. May I inquire about the logic behind this suggestion?”
“He is well above sixty years of age and his faculties are declining,” Crawford said after sipping his whiskey. “Perhaps retiring him and employing someone younger will help us keep a better eye on the accounts.”
“I am confident in Newton’s capabilities, Crawford, and I believe he will manage our accounts well even if he is ninety.” Matthew set his liquor down on the mantle without drinking because he wanted to give this discussion his full attention. “I have told you that I am investigating the cause of our losses.”
“Have you considered that someone under your employ might be stealing from you?” Crawford answered, displeased by Matthew’s refusal to accept his suggestion.
“Yes, I have, and it is why I have my solicitor in London working to unravel the mystery.”
“And you trust your solicitor?”
Matthew understood his concerns, and he was not annoyed by his questions, only that the timing was not right. He was supposed to be finished with the day’s work.
“He was my father’s solicitor before he became mine. My father took his advice seriously, as do I. I trust him.” The late duke had a very good sense for business, and Matthew was following the path that had been left for him. He had made mistakes in the past that he now wished to right, and one of them was protecting what he had inherited.
