Page 12 of A Reckless Courtship (A Chronicle of Misadventures #3)

12

SILAS

T he ticking of the case clock punctuated the deafening silence.

“Silas Yorke is in hiding,” Bence said. “He is in France.”

Silas shook his head. “I returned months ago. Until I came to London, I was in hiding here in England.”

“But…”

“I cannot hide forever, Sir Walter, and certainly not for a crime I did not commit.”

Bence nodded grimly. “Who knows of your presence in England?”

“My family. And now you.” His stomach clenched. Had he been wrong to tell him the truth? He hardly knew the man. And yet, he was confident he had not misjudged him.

“You do me a great honor by bringing me into your confidence,” Bence said soberly.

“As you may imagine, there is a reason I have done so. I hope you will help me.”

Bence took in a slow, deep breath, a hint of wariness entering his gaze. “What precisely do you wish for me to do?”

“Help me strengthen my case against Drayton. I have my own experience to share, of course, but I need more than that.”

“You do,” he replied. “The fact that your brother came into the dukedom is certainly a boon to your case, but without any evidence and testimony to corroborate your story…” He pulled a face. “It is your word against Drayton’s, and—unjust as it may be—people will side with Drayton, if only to prevent angering him.”

“Precisely. And there was evidence—evidence my brother Anthony went to great lengths to acquire. A journal. But Drayton destroyed it.” Silas took a moment before speaking the next bit, for what he was asking of Bence was not only bold…it was dangerous. “You seemed aware of Drayton’s guilt in Langdon’s murder, Sir Walter. How?”

He spun his empty glass before responding. “Several months before Langdon’s untimely passing, I became intrigued by Drayton’s investment in textiles, for it seemed he was doing quite well. The returns were remarkable, and I wanted to be part of it. I approached Drayton with the intent to join the venture.”

Silas’s eyebrows rose.

“When I broached the subject, however, Drayton’s response was…odd. He told me it wasn’t the right moment and advised me to hold off. He hinted that a more lucrative opportunity was imminent and promised to include me when the time was ripe.

“At the time, I did not question it. Drayton and I had conducted business together before, and I trusted his judgment. Thanks to that history, however, I have contacts in the shipping industry, and I heard…rumors…whispers that Drayton was covertly aligning with another company. A direct competitor.”

Silas nodded grimly. “He was sabotaging us from within, preparing to shift his assets to our competition.”

Bence grimaced. “When Langdon died and you were accused, I was uneasy, but I could not say why, for at that time, I had no reason to suspect Drayton capable of murder. I knew he had a temper—these things often make themselves known in business, as you know—but having a short fuse does not make a man a murderer. And yet, I was uneasy, all the same. Something did not sit right with me.” Bence frowned, staring at the tablecloth. “I asked Drayton about it. Mentioned how tragic and untimely Langdon’s death was. Drayton’s response...” He hesitated, a shadow crossing his face.

Silas waited, his body crackling with anticipation.

“Drayton looked at me with an expression I shall never forget. It was…lazy. Unconcerned. And he said, ‘An unfortunate business, certainly. But necessary, I fear.’”

Silas straightened. “He admitted it?”

“Not in so many words. But the implication was there. I could not help wondering—fearing—what had truly happened. And when Drayton moved his interests to the competitor and began to gain even more financially, I felt more certain he had been involved in Langdon’s demise. I was in denial, of course, for I had begun to reap great benefit from my newest investment with him. But the seed had been planted, and from then on, I began to take note of the cold and calculating side of Drayton. I believe it was somehow precipitated by the death of his wife. He became obsessed with protecting his daughters and providing them with grand inheritances.”

Bence rubbed his thumb along the base of his nearly empty wine glass. “Then there was an incident a few months ago. One of Drayton’s ships was undermanned and ill-maintained—an attempt to save money, of course. It wrecked in a storm, and lives were lost. The captain’s widow inherited her husband’s property, but Drayton coerced her into selling it to him at a price that was far from fair to her. He sold it at great profit not long after.”

Silas’s stomach roiled. His was not the only life that Drayton had ruined.

Bence’s frown was deep and dark. “I could no longer turn a blind eye to his tactics. When I confronted him over it, he accused me of being lily-livered. He questioned if I was truly fit to invest with him and reminded me he is a widower with a family to support—as if his children are not amply provided for already.”

Silas thought of Miss Easton and the way Drayton had acted with such paternal affection—the way she had regarded him with such devotion. The man was living a double life, and he was using his daughters to rationalize his depravity.

Bence shook his head. “I cut ties with him then.”

There was silence as both men ruminated on the revelations they had made.

“Drayton cannot be permitted to ruin any more lives with impunity, Sir Walter,” Silas said softly.

“I agree. But it is an easy sentiment to express and a difficult one to pursue.”

“Difficult, but not impossible. Will you not come forward with me? Our testimonies together would be far stronger than they would be alone.”

“They would. But do you not realize that I continued to do business with Drayton after knowing what sort of man he was? My own conscience is not clean, Yorke, and Drayton would use that to his advantage.”

He was right, undoubtedly. Drayton had shown his colors and the depths to which he would go to protect himself. They needed something more.

“We must find evidence,” Silas said. “Are you willing to help me?”

Bence took in a slow breath, his chest rising as he considered Silas.

“You know Drayton far better than I—his habits, his weaknesses. All I need is for you to try to discover where we might find evidence of his wrongdoing. Can you do that?”

Bence’s jaw hardened as he met Silas’s gaze. “I will do my best.”