Page 28

S hay stared at the books in front of them while wishing he could grab Barnabas Flint by the neck and give him a good shaking.

The man was making the sale of Nuit Noire more difficult than needed. The way it was drawing out was sure to make Thea suspicious. She had already asked him if he had a mistress. Which he did not.

But then she’d asked if he was gambling. Once again, he was able to answer honestly, that he was not. But if she knew he was spending every hour of the night in a gaming hell, she would surely not believe he hadn’t been gambling.

Instead, Shay spent the majority of his time in Flint’s office trying to negotiate a deal they would both be content with. So far the man was not budging.

“The way you are frowning at those ledgers has me wanting to back away and run far and fast,” Reese said as he stepped inside Shay’s study. “But because I’m a better friend, I’ll at least ask what’s wrong first.”

Shay rubbed his forehead. “Is it too early in the day for a drink?”

Reese chuckled. “Did ye forget you’re a Scot and therefore are permitted to drink whenever ye wish?” Reese went to pour them each a dram of whisky. Shay studied it for a moment before throwing it back.

He knew well the answers to one’s problems were rarely found at the bottom of a glass, but for a few moments at least, it would make the burden he was carrying easier to bear.

He’d lied to Thea about everything.

It had been astounding the way she’d accepted that he himself was the biggest lie of all. His name, the very person he’d been pretending to be for most of his life was all a fabrication and she’d only offered understanding and peace.

He knew her well enough by now to know that was the easier of his deceits. This next one would not be so easily forgiven. Not by a woman who still bore the scars of her brother’s disease on her soul.

Shay had justified his silence by thinking he was sparing her unpleasantness she didn’t need to know about. Especially when he was working to remedy the situation as soon as possible.

But just because he would no longer be doused in incriminations didn’t mean it had never been. He’d thought with the business out of his hands he would be free, but the sale had not yet gone through and he already felt the weight of guilt on his shoulders for all he was hiding from a wife he had taken to protect, but had come to love.

One didn’t lie to people they loved. It was something he’d heard his mother say before she’d died. A simple truth if there ever was one. And one he had betrayed.

“What is bothering you? Is it the sale? Are you sure you want to do this?” Reese asked, pulling Shay’s attention to his current issues.

“You’re the one who told me I should sell,” Shay pointed out.

“I did, but I didn’t think you’d take my advice. You never have before.”

That may have been true. In fact, he was not selling Noire because Reese suggested it, but because he needed to. To make things right with Thea.

“I’m very sure. I’d like to have it done today if it could be arranged. I just want to be out of the whole business. Then I can put my estates back to rights and move on with my life.”

“You know if you need anything, I would—”

“I do know it. Things are not as bad as I’m making them out to be. The financial aspect will be remedied soon enough, but the damage it has already done and the risk it poses…”

“You’re worried Lady Flemming will find out?”

He’d told Reese about how his marriage had come to be. And her concerns about gambling.

“Nay. It is worse than that. I’m worried I’ll not be brave enough to tell her.” For it was becoming clear that he would not just be able to go about things as if he’d not once owned the very gaming hell where her brother had lost a large portion of their money. Likely her dowry was spent at Shay’s tables. “How will I live with that, Reese? This thing between us?”

“It is quite common for men to keep things of import from their wives. Women rarely have any knowledge or interest in business affairs anyway. So long as the modiste accounts are kept up, all will be well.”

Shay could only laugh.

“The words of an unmarried man.”

Reese lifted his glass. “May all my words be as such for the rest of my days.”

Shay tilted his head, really inspecting his close friend for the first time.

“I know you hate the mamas and misses hunting you like a prized boar, but do you truly not wish to find a real wife? After seeing how happy Finn has been with Lily and their son? Do you not wonder if it wouldn’t be a better life spent with someone you could actually care about and someone who might care about you?”

Unlike the rest of them, Reese still had a living parent. His mother, Dowager Breckenridge, was a meddling woman who wanted Reese to find a wife and start a family. She was not beyond setting up her own trap to comprise her own son into marriage. The woman probably didn’t realize that her constant badgering only made her quarry fly harder and faster to elude her.

“Have you found a love match, Shay?” Reese asked, looking at Shay in a similar way as Shay was looking at him. It unnerved Shay to have to look away first, but continuing in this test of wills would show more truth than Shay was comfortable with.

Reese chuckled, while Shay glared at his gloating friend.

“I can’t say yet.” Only because it didn’t seem right to admit such a thing to someone other than Thea first. “I would say there is much I admire about my wife. She is a true friend, and confidant. And then there are the nights.” He couldn’t help the smug smile that took over his lips.

“You know well a man can have the nights without all the other worrisome bits.”

Shay shook his head. “Nay, the nights are much different when there is affection. I’ll not attempt to explain it to you for you’re not ready to listen. And I admit it does sound like quite a lot of bluster, but one day I hope you find a woman who would be true to you so you might know what it is like.”

“A woman who would be true? You may as well wish for me to stumble upon a unicorn.”

Reese was surely the most handsome of them and his coffers were full. He was at the top of the list in every drawing room across London as the most eligible, despite his rough upbringing in the wilds of Scotland. Much could be overlooked when one had good looks, charm, and money.

But Reese was not above testing these huntresses of their true intensions. Often acting in the most barbaric ways to see them smile politely and act as if all was well just so they could win him over. And then there were the ones who took more deceitful measures of attempting to lure him into a compromising situation. The poor man needed to be on constant alert for any such subterfuge.

“Then I will hope you find a unicorn as well as happiness.”

“I thought us friends. Why would you cast such a curse upon me? Take care of yourself and leave me be,” Reese joked.

“Very well, when this business is settled and my accounts are put back to rights, I plan to take Thea home to Cawdor, and enjoy some peace. It is my greatest wish to not have this uncertainty hanging over my head any longer.”

“Then I hope everything goes as planned. And this unpleasantness is set behind you as quickly as possible.”

*

Surely, Thea should have learned by now not to listen in on other’s conversations. But in her defense, the last time she’d done it, it may have very well saved her life. Or at least, spared her from a life not worth living.

And she had not listened to much of the conversation between her husband and Lord Breckenridge. She’d only come up to the study door when Lord Breckenridge was jesting about Shay placing a curse upon him. But she’d heard something after that which had her worried.

She trusted Shay. He’d told her his biggest secret and he’d kept hers. Yet, she felt uneasy hearing about some concern over the finances. Was something wrong? More importantly, could she help?

He’d told her he would never touch her money, and it had gone far to reassuring her. Losing her property—as well as becoming property herself—was the main reason she hadn’t ever planned to marry. But now that she cared for Shay, she found keeping their things separated seemed unfair.

Afterall, he had not hesitated to use his money to care for her. To provide a roof over her head and his protection. Shouldn’t she do the same if it be in her power to do so? They had married under strained circumstances, but things had changed now. She wanted them to be partners in all things.

But rather than wait until Lord Breckenridge left to ask her husband what was going on, she waited until Shay left on business and sneaked into his study to look around. She fully expected Shay to tell her all was well so not to worry her. Which was why she wanted to learn of their circumstances herself.

She understood, she wouldn’t want him to worry about anything if it could be avoided either. Perhaps that was what married people did. Right or wrong, they wished to spare the other even the slightest unpleasantness. Even if the other could provide great comfort if not help to sort out the matter.

If eavesdropping had been deemed unsuitable, casting about in her husband’s desk, and going through his ledgers felt far worse. She continued to tell herself it was for the best of reasons. But deep down, she knew it was fear that kept her searching. Because she cared for her husband. No. That wasn’t correct. It had grown to be more than caring. Still, below all the happiness she’d found from his touch and the love she’d felt in her heart when he simply offered a tender smile, lay the dank shadows of doubt.

She blamed her brother, which was not surprising for he was guilty of many things. Early on, in the time she thought of as blind oblivion, she’d believed everything he’d said. And when collectors began gathering at their doors and Stephen said it was but a misunderstanding, she’d continued to believe. She’d bumbled around far longer than any intelligent person should have before realizing what had been there all along.

There hadn’t been any misunderstandings. Her brother had lied to her. It had been the first time she’d felt the foundations of her life tremble. And in the days and weeks that followed, the facade shook free until she could see how grim things truly were.

Rather than wait so long to know what situation had worried her husband, she flipped open another ledger, wondering why he had two. It wasn’t uncommon for there to be multiple books for each property, but generally they were kept at that property to be maintained by the steward.

“ Nuit Noire ?” she whispered, reading the name of the property. He’d not mentioned a property called Dark Night. It seemed an odd name for a home or an estate. Any property in Scotland would surely have been listed in Gaelic rather than French. This made her think of a brothel, or some other sinister business, like a… gaming hell.

Thea shut the book and set it aside as if it were a snake ready to strike, as memories came rushing in. The times when Stephen and Billings had spoken of it being a dark night.

She’d found it odd for all nights were dark. It was rather redundant to use the description. Now she was putting it together. Her husband owned a gaming hell. One where her brother had been a patron, and likely lost much of their funds.

Going back into the drawer where she’d found that ledger she pulled out a small tin box and opened it. Flipping through the vows—so many of the small slips of paper were practically wedged in—she found they were alphabetical. It made it easier to maneuver to Lord Percival.

She covered her mouth with a shaking hand when she saw the sheer number of them and the sums written upon them. How much Stephen owed her husband was staggering. She didn’t think it was so much as he owed Flint, but then Shay was a smart man. He wouldn’t allow someone to keep racking up debt at his tables when there was no hope of repayment.

It seemed Thea had gotten out of becoming reparations to one lender only to have married a different one. Like an evil weed, doubt began to wind through her body, nearly choking the breath from her. Had this all been done on purpose?

But her brother could not know she would escape to Scotland. To end up at Shay’s home. Unless that conversation she’d overheard had been meant for her to hear. Would a man who planned to drug his own sister and give her off to pay his debts be above setting a trap to ensure she covered a different debt?

Tidying up the desk, she left her husband’s study on trembling legs. She needed to know the truth, but how if everyone who held the answers were set on lying to her?

She took a few deep breaths and then thought of the heroes in her stories. What would they do to track down the truth?

It seemed it was time to begin an investigation of her own, but rather than fiction, this mystery had very real ramifications.