Page 22 of The Duke’s Spinster Bride (A Duke’s Game #2)
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Y ou understand that I will require your utmost discretion.” Frederick surveyed the man standing before him as he sipped from his glass.
The man was called Mr. Langley. He was a short man, with light grey hair and wrinkles around his eyes. He had the kind of face you would see in a crowded parlour and almost immediately forget.
The kind of face that makes him well suited for the work that he does. Frederick watched as the man let out a languid shrug, rubbing his hands together with oily satisfaction.
“Of course, your Grace. In my line of work, discretion is paramount. No one will know anything about our business.” Mr. Langley’s gravely voice grated against his skin. “If I was anything but discreet… Well, let us just say I would not have very many clients.”
Frederick nodded. “That is good. And you are sure you will be able to find what I have asked for?”
“If it is there to be found, yes.” Mr. Langley stroked his handlebar moustache thoughtfully. “And from what you have told me, there is something to be found, one way or another.”
“You are the expert.” Frederick swallowed and glanced at the clock. It was nearly time for lunch. “Is there anything else you need from me?”
Mr. Langley spun his hat between his fingers, eyes flitting between Frederick and the floor. “There is the matter of payment, your Grace.”
“Whatever your fee, I will pay it.” Frederick made a dismissive gesture.
“It will be 50 guineas, and I am usually paid in advance.” The man’s eyes flitted to the desk and then back to Frederick as he licked his lips.
“That will not work.” Frederick shook his head. “You could turn up nothing and then I will be out of pocket 50 guineas and no closer to having the information I require. Besides, I find it hard to believe that your clients are quite so trusting that they pay your entire fee before you have even procured the information.”
Mr. Langley’s eyes narrowed, but he stuck an insipid smile on his face to hide the momentary anger. Frederick repressed a sigh. The sooner the man left his office, the better. I wish I did not have to work with this sort of person, but there is little other choice.
“I will give you half now, and half when you have the information I have requested.” Frederick held out a hand to Mr. Langley. “Do we have an agreement?”
The man licked his lips and nodded.
“How long do you think this will take?” Frederick asked as he walked Mr. Langley to the door of the study.
“I should have what you require in a few days.” Mr. Langley shrugged. “Maybe more, maybe less. No more than a week. Likely far less.”
“Excellent.” Frederick tried to keep the surprise from his face—after all, he had no wish to offend the man, not when he needed him. “I look forward to seeing what you can dig up.”
“Of course.” The man bowed his head low. “I will be in touch once I have something for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Langley.” Frederick shut the door behind him and returned to his desk.
He surveyed the papers before him, trying to pull himself back to the present.
A moment later, there was a knock at his study door and Andrea peered her head around the doorframe. “Am I allowed to come in now?”
Her smile sent a flutter through his heart and he could not help but smile back at her. He gestured for her to join him at his desk, and offered her a glass of wine.
“And you will not tell me what it was about?” Andrea asked taking the glass from him.
“No.” he shook his head. “Not until things are further along.”
“I hate not knowing things. It is most frustrating.” She pouted, and the sight made his heart swoop around his chest.
“Perhaps it will be good for you. After all, you seem to know far more than me about most things.”
“We both know that is not true.” Her fingers drummed against the wood of his desk and it was all he could do not to grab her hand in his. “I just am not shy about letting people know that I know things.”
“Perhaps I simply like to let people underestimate me.” Frederick shrugged. “Perhaps the facade is part of my devious plan.”
“There is very little about you that I would call devious, dear Frederick.” She smiled at him.
“Are you sure about that, Duchess?” He leaned towards her, steepling his hands together and resting his chin on them. “I assure you, I can be quite devious when the mood strikes me.”
Her cheeks reddened as she spluttered on her drink, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “One of these days you are going to say something like that and find yourself with a face full of wine.”
“And when that day comes, you will probably rub it in my face.” He grinned at her. “But that day is not today.”
“It may well be if you are not careful.” She laughed and then fished a slip of paper from her pocket.
“What is this?” He took it from her. “Have you written me a love note?”
She rolled her eyes but her colour deepened even further. “It is an invitation to the Cotswalts ball.”
“That is the fourth invitation we have received today.” Frederick let out a puff of air as he stroked his chin. “Who knew the ton would be so desperate to get a piece of us?”
“You have kissed me three times in public. Perhaps they are hoping for another show.” Her eyes glittered mischieviously and Frederick felt his own cheeks redden.
Swallowing, he licked his lips and said, “And are you suggesting I give them one?”
“No.” Andrea waved away the suggestion, giving him a sidelong look as she stood up. “I think we have given them quite enough, quite frankly. Besides, there are some things I would like to keep for myself.”
His heart skittered wildly in his chest. His mouth went suddenly dry as Andrea grinned at him. “Remind me, was it you who said she did not flirt?”
“I cannot recall.” She leaned towards him, her fingers brushing across his knuckles as she did. “But I seem to remember a certain duke seeming to be unopposed to the idea.”
A shiver ran through him and his voice came out closer to a growl than anything else. “Careful, Duchess. I hear it is poor form to flirt with your husband.”
“I thought you did not care for such things.” She giggled and stepped away from him, gesturing to the invitation that lay on the desk in front of him, her face falling somewhat. “Do you want to accept this invitation?”
“The Cotswalts balls are always quite an event, and they should not be too extravagant. I am inclined to accept.”
“That will make it our fifteenth ball. And we have five garden parties on top of that and the Benson’s have invited us to the theatre tomorrow, though as the play sounds rather tiresome, I would like to decline.”
“Then decline it.” He winked at her. “I have more than enough social engagements to show you off at.”
He glanced at the clock. “Speaking of which, should you not be getting ready for the ball this evening?”
Andrea sighed and nodded her head. “Unfortunately, yes. You have no idea how much easier you have it. You simply have to put on your outfit and be done with it all. I on the other hand, must think about my hair, my make-up, my jewellery.”
“It is the price one must pay to be beautiful, or so I am told.” He ducked as she flung the invitation towards him.
Laughing, he watched as she left the room, absentmindedly rubbing his hands along his knuckles. He picked up the invitation and went to place it in the pile with the rest of the post they had received that day.
He rarely looked at the pile; if there was anything interesting Andrea would tell him. He placed the invitation at the top of it, but was distracted and accidentally knocked it off. In his haste to fix it, he knocked the rest of the papers to the ground as well, causing absolute chaos. Several of the things skidded under the sofa.
“Damn it.” He glanced towards the doorway. Andrea will be furious if I upset her files.
He grabbed the ones on the floor and carefully put them back on the pile, before dropping to his belly and fishing things out from beneath the sofa.
He did his best to rearrange the papers and was just about to turn from them, when his eyes caught on a name.
“Andrew Cowper?” Frowning, he pulled the file towards him. “What is this?”
He looked at the papers in the folder and his heart sunk. He was holding bank records of a business venture taken out in a male name. A name he suspected was Andrea’s pseudonym.
“Why did she not tell me about this?” His hands shook as he leafed through the financials.
What does it mean? The sums in the accounts were not staggering by any stretch of the imagination, but neither were they simply petty cash. Is she trying to hide this from me?
He had found the folder under the sofa after all. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he tugged at the collar of his shirt.
He took several steps towards the door before he realised what he was doing and forced himself to stop. “Am I supposed to just walk up to her and confront her? Demand she tell me the meaning of this?”
He shook his head. “We are not living in some kind of romance novel. There could be a perfectly reasonable, perfectly innocent reason for this.”
He looked at the folder in his shaking hands and then towards the door. It was not as though confrontation had ever led to anything good.
“She told me she wanted this. She said she wanted a real marriage.” He swallowed and massaged his chest, the pressure lessening somewhat. “She wants to be with me.”
He moved back towards the pile of papers and various oddments, and tucked the file back at the bottom of the pile. His fingers hesitated as he drew back, and he glanced over his shoulder. She did try and hide this from me.
That had to mean something. If there was nothing nefarious about the banks, then she would have told him. She would have revealed it to him and not tried to keep it a secret.
Or had she? After all, he was the one who had knocked things to the ground. The file had probably been mixed in amongst all the other things, in plain view for him to find.
“And it is not like Andrea to hide things in such an obvious place. At least, I do not think it is. I cannot really imagine her hiding something like that, not unless she wanted it to be found.” The thought comforted him and he found himself nodding as he continued, “I am just being overly cautious. That is all. Things are going well. I have no reason to doubt her, to doubt any of this.”
It was probably nothing for him to worry about.
“It does not mean anything. She likes her independence, that is it. She probably has simply not gotten around to closing them.” It does not mean she wants to leave. His chest constricted at the thought.
Shaking his head, he put the folder at the bottom of the pile. The best thing for him to do, was to put it from his mind and try go about his day.
“You know what they say about assumptions, Frederick.” He chided himself.
As he left the study, the faint echo of his father’s voice set his teeth on edge. To love is to lose.
“It does not mean anything.” Frederick growled to the space around him. “It is only money after all.”
But if that is true, then why did she not tell you? Why keep it a secret if it is of no consequence?