Page 84 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville

“He left?” Maria said. “Where has he gone?”

“To town. He won’t be back for some time.” She glanced furtively at Mr. Pinter. “He went to obtain a special license for your marriage. So I think that any discussion of Mr. Hyatt—”

“I’d thank you to stay out of this, Celia,” Maria interrupted. “I’m paying Mr. Pinter’s fee myself, so it’s my business alone.”

Celia looked at her aghast. In the past week, they’d become friends, and Maria had never spoken sharply to her. But the fact that Oliver was pursuing marriage without gaining her consent alarmed her.

“I see,” Celia said in a hurt tone. “Then I’ll leave the two of you to your discussion.” She stalked off toward the dining room.

“This way.” Maria gestured toward the library, feeling a twinge of guilt. She’d grown quite fond of the Sharpesiblings in only a week, but they had a tendency to push people around, and she wouldn’t be bullied. This affected her life, not just their battle with their grandmother.

As she and Mr. Pinter headed for the library, he asked in a low voice, “Why is Stoneville getting a special license?”

“It’s part of our sham engagement,” she lied.

“That’s going rather far for a sham,” he said as they entered the library. “If I were you, Miss Butterfield—”

“But you’re not, are you?” Closing the door, she faced him. “I hired you to find Nathan, not give me advice.”

His jaw went taut, but he acknowledged the reproof with a dip of his head.

Guilt stabbed her. He was doing this without any payment for now; he deserved better from her. “Forgive me, Mr. Pinter. It’s been a difficult day.” She squared her shoulders. “Have you found Nathan?”

“Yes.”

She caught her breath. Now she could inherit Papa’s money. Now she was free of both Oliver and Nathan, if that’s what she wanted. She ought to feel relief, yet all she felt was a sense of impending doom.

“He’s not dead, is he?” she asked, her first fear coming to the fore.

“No.” He suddenly looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Miss Butterfield, but it appears that your fiancé has been operating independently of your father’s company.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s in Southampton, where he’s been ever sinceleaving London. I’m sorry it took so long for me to find him, but he was careful to cover his tracks.”

“That can’t be. He doesn’t have a deceitful bone in his body. It must be a mistake. You must have found some other fellow.”

“An American named Nate Hyatt, selling clipper ships? Thatiswhat you said he was in England to do, wasn’t it?”

A chill coursed through her. “Yes,” she breathed.

“And the trail leads directly to him, I’m afraid.” Compassion shone in Mr. Pinter’s gray gaze. “In Southampton, he has put himself forward as the owner of an American company called Massachusetts Clippers. He’s been approaching Southampton shipping companies with an offer to sell them several ships. The process has been a long one, but he’s found a prospective buyer, a Mr. Kinsley. It has taken the man time to have Mr. Hyatt’s credentials verified.”

“Verified! How could he do that if Nathan invented a new company?”

“Someone in Baltimore supported his tale.”

Her heart sank. “That’s where his family is from. I suppose he’s trading on their name for help in his scheme.” That explained why he’d pawned the satchel; it bore her company’s name on it.

Pain slashed through her at that small additional betrayal. “His parents are dead, but his father’s family was in the shipping business and had numerous connections. He must have coaxed one of them into lying for him.”

“I haven’t discovered who, but I’ll keep investigating if you wish.”

“There’s no point.” Now that she knew where he was, she meant to get her own answers from him.

All this time she’d been worrying about him, and he’d been going behind her back with some devious scheme. How could he?

The irony didn’t escape her, that after years of reading with fascination about swindlers and cheats caught by the authorities, she should be the victim of one. Crime lost a great deal of its appeal when it happened toyou.