Page 38 of Murder at Somerset House (A Wrexford & Sloane Mystery #9)

I t was late, and while the rest of the house was settling into slumber, Charlotte leaned back in her chair and took a moment to savor the quiet solitude of her workroom.

The past few days of shopping had passed in a flurry.

Acquiring a wardrobe befitting an earl’s sister, along with all the countless little accessories and furbelows to go along with the new clothing, had proved particularly daunting.

Eddy had shown remarkable poise and fortitude in submitting to the whirlwind even though it was clear that most of the purchases were not to her taste.

Charlotte grimaced on recalling Eddy’s expression on being shown a feminine riding habit.

Thank heavens the shopgirl had not heard the muttered expletive.

However, Wrexford’s sister—Charlotte was still getting used to that thought—had not uttered a further word when she and Alison agreed that the garment should be added to the pile of other clothing being packed up for delivery to Berkeley Square.

Thankfully, several visits to Gunter’s for ices after the shopping ordeals had proved more relaxing. Eddy had unbent enough to giggle in delight at her first taste of the frozen confections.

“I hope that I shall soon see a good many more expressions of spontaneous happiness,” she said to herself. Eddy was too young to be so serious.

“How are things progressing?” McClellan eased the door open and came in.

“Things have been so hectic around here lately that we’ve not yet had a chance to have a good gossip about how Eddy is settling in.

” She set a tray on the side table by Charlotte’s work desk.

“I brought you some tea.” A pause. “Or should I have brought whisky?”

“I’m not sure,” confessed Charlotte. “Alison and I accomplished our task of assembling the basics for her new position as Wrexford’s sister.

But I can’t tell what she thought of the experience.

As with her brother, it’s not easy to read her emotions.

” A sigh. “Actually there have been several positive moments. She seems thrilled with the dovecote, she clearly enjoyed Gunter’s, and when I asked whether she would like to stop at Hatchards and see if they had any books on pigeons, she readily agreed and found three to her liking. ”

“It bodes well for fitting into this family that she likes to read,” observed McClellan after passing Charlotte a cup.

“I hope so.” Charlotte took a sip of her tea.

“I plan to take her to see the Tower Menagerie soon, and I’ll ask Hawk to come along.

It seems a good idea to have her spend some time with each of the boys individually, rather than in a group.

That way she can form a personal friendship with each of them. ”

The maid looked down, but not quite quickly enough to hide the skeptical twitch of her brows.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Nuffink,” said McClellan with a wry grimace, imitating Hawk’s tendency to mispronounce nothing when he was hiding something.

Charlotte didn’t laugh.

“I may have misinterpreted his meaning,” added McClellan, “but Raven stormed out of the house earlier, and I happened to overhear him muttering some very bad words in the same breath as Eddy’s name.”

“Good Lord.” She put her cup down. “I shall refrain from using foul language myself. But only by exercising great restraint.” After releasing a sigh, she added, “How on earth did they come to butt heads?”

A sympathetic chuckle resonated in McClellan’s throat. “I’ve no idea. But for now, I would refrain from comment and see if the two of them can work out their differences.”

“Sage advice,” said Charlotte. “However, I can’t help but worry. Raven is more complicated than Hawk or Peregrine, who both have sunny dispositions. He’s carried such weighty responsibilities from a tender age. He broods over things.”

“That’s not necessarily bad,” pointed out the maid. “Wrexford also broods over things. And then he uses his incisive logic to parse through the problem and comes to a practical way to solve it.”

“I suppose you have a point,” she mused. “Raven’s mathematical skills show that he possesses an analytical mind and knows how to use it. But at his age, emotions are not as clearly defined as numbers. I hope …”

Charlotte closed her eyes for an instant. “But, as I assured Wrex, we shall somehow manage to deal with our new family’s demands, along with—”

“Countering a nefarious plot that threatens our country?” McClellan gave a wry chuckle. “But of course we will.”

“Mr. Ricardo!” Cordelia shot up out of her chair to greet their late-night visitor, looking a little flustered.

“I apologize for intruding at such an ungodly hour,” he said, gesturing for her to be seated. “But you’ve both mentioned that you are often working late at night, so I took the liberty of seeing whether I might catch you up and about.”

Raven had also jumped to his feet and was hurriedly combing his fingers through his unruly hair, trying to flatten the worst of the spiky tufts.

“I take it this young man is our new recruit,” said Ricardo after exchanging pleasantries with Cordelia.

“Yes, sir.” Raven bobbed a very creditable bow. “Thomas Ravenwood Sloane at your service.”

Cordelia pressed her lips together to hold back a smile.

“I’ve reviewed some of your mathematics, Master Sloane. It’s very impressive work.”

“T-Thank you, sir. But I have so much more to learn,” stammered Raven.

“I have a secret to share with you.” Ricardo lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “So do I.”

“And I,” added Sheffield. He held up his glass. “May I pour you a brandy?”

“That would be quite welcome—if you’re all sure that you don’t mind the interruption,” said Ricardo. “I was taking a walk just now, as I find the activity helps me focus my thinking, and a few things have come to mind. I would find it useful to discuss them with you.”

“We would, of course, be honored, sir,” replied Sheffield after a glance at Cordelia and Raven. “But I worry that we are not nearly conversant enough in the intricacies of finance to be of any help.”

“As you will see, I’m seeking your counsel on a rather larger issue than any financial specifics.”

Sheffield moved to the sideboard and quickly poured a measure of brandy for Ricardo. “Then please make yourself comfortable, sir. I assure you that we are all ears.”

Cordelia gestured for Ricardo to take the armchair she had just vacated, and both she and Sheffield settled themselves on the facing sofa.

Raising his glass in salute, Ricardo smiled. “Let me begin with an update on current political and financial events. This will give us some context for what I want to propose as next steps in working together.”

Ricardo paused to take a sip from his glass.

“We must, of course, talk of Napoleon. As you know, I have various well-placed sources who keep me informed on the latest news, both here and across the Channel. Financial markets do not exist in a vacuum. Politics, economic forces, social unrest, military threats—in the blink of an eye, a shift in the status quo can cause major fluctuations.”

Cordelia frowned. “I imagine that Napoleon’s march to Paris is already causing uncertainty for the market.”

“Napoleon has already been in Paris for several days,” said Ricardo. “And has reseated himself on the throne without opposition.”

“Good Lord,” intoned Sheffield. “We all have anticipated such news, but still, it’s a shock.” He swallowed hard. “You are quite sure of this? There was no such report in today’s newspapers.”

“Yes, I am quite certain of the information.”

“S-Surely that news will affect the London Stock Exchange,” ventured Cordelia.

“Indeed, it will. Especially as our government will have no choice but to raise an extremely large amount of money to fund the coming military conflict—for I see no way that war can be avoided,” said Ricardo.

“Napoleon’s only hope for staying in power is to strike quickly, before Britain can reassemble an Allied Coalition to oppose him, and force a decisive battle over the raggle-taggle army that Wellington will have under his command.

Then he can negotiate from a position of strength. ”

His gaze turned troubled. “I imagine he will demand to be recognized as ruler of France in return for a promise to refrain from further military action.”

Ricardo allowed a moment for his words to sink in. “But this is getting a bit ahead of events. Let us return to what is actually happening at this moment.”

Sheffield glanced at the others and then gave a grim nod.

“First, it appears we all agree that this news will create further uncertainty in the market and hence push government consol values down,” continued Ricardo.

“So far prices have declined somewhat but have held up reasonably well in the face of all of these events, behaving exactly as I anticipated. The latest news, however, will put more downward pressure on prices and make it harder for the government to raise the enormous new loan it will need to defeat Napoleon’s grandiose ambitions. ”

Ricardo took another sip from his drink. “So, our first task is to do what we can to prevent the government debt market from declining too much more. A decline can quickly turn into a total rout.”

“Can we do that?” asked Raven. “Surely that must be awfully difficult.”

“We can only do so much,” Ricardo conceded.

“But given that I am by far the leading stockjobber in government debt—the average volume is ￡50,000 per year, while mine is about ￡1,000,000—the prices at which I buy and sell consols help set the overall market prices for the securities. So I can help stabilize their price by offering a generous bid for what I will pay for them.”

Cordelia grimaced. “That could become very expensive. And if the value of consols drops precipitously despite your efforts …”