Chapter Fifteen
Clare stood atthe window, watching the boys run in the enclosed space. The sun had unexpectedly broken through the mist and rain and Peter quickly released them from their studies. One could never depend on either the timing or duration of sunshine in Edinburgh and the teacher wisely accepted its appearance as a sign for a short recess from their slates and books.
In spite of their circumstances, these lads were full of the joyful exuberance of their age. Not yet encumbered by the worries of life, they could run, kick the ball and tussle at a moment’s notice. They took advantage of the opportunities presented to them when they appeared and did not look back.
As she let the curtains drop back into place, Clare knew she was doing exactly that with Iain. Once paid for his services and once he gave up on his pursuit of the properties, he would go back to his empire, and she would remain here.
Though she planned changes in her life, there was much to do first. A knock on the small parlor’s door drew her back to the demands of the day. She’d taken a pause for tea and noticed that the hands of the clock had moved more than an hour more since she’d entered. It had already happened four times in the three days since...
“My lady, Mr. Chalmers is here.”
“Show him in here, please, William.” Before he turned away, she added, “And please bring the good whisky and glasses.”
James Chalmers was not a tea drinker. And, she probably would want something stronger when he made his report. Something sinister was happening on the streets of Leith and it involved her school. Chalmers strode in and accepted the seat she offered, waiting for her to sit before he did. She allowed him a drink of the whisky William brought and poured before she asked.
“What have you found?”
“Well, my lady, nothing is easy when you are trying to get working people and those who survive on the streets to talk.”
“I understand. Fear binds their tongues.”
“Aye, my lady. But I wanted you to know that I discovered that a gang under the control of a particularly nasty fellow—” He stopped and reached inside his coat pocket for the small notebook she’d seen him scribbling in often. He flipped some pages back then forward until he found what he was looking for. “A man called Dougal Dubh heads up a crew of thugs for hire and is somehow involved.”
The name did not sound familiar, but the methods did. Living in squalor meant a dangerous existence and men like this Dougal Dubh exploited the weaknesses of those unable to defend themselves.
“What do you think is happening, Mr. Chalmers? Should you call in the police?” she asked. Clare knew the answer to her second question before he spoke. Police in the worst areas of Edinburgh and Leith were paid more to look away than to pursue crime in those places. They faced powerful criminals who were organized and better funded, and most times they simply could not overcome the forces against them.
“I have several men assigned to this, my lady. Once I know more, we can decide what to do.” She stood, as did he.
“I wait on your report.”
Chalmers left and Clare went back to the work that lay untouched on her desk. No matter what happened in her life, she was going to appoint managers for the companies she owned and center her attention only on the school and orphanage. She needed a life and even if she refused her father’s machinations, at some point she suspected she would want the companionship that a marriage could offer her.
But she would do that the way she wanted.
A memory of Iain flashed through her thoughts—several memories. Iain carrying her up the stairs after she twisted her ankle. Iain storming into her office, making his demands. Iain taking her on the hard surface of the table. And Iain chatting with her while they ate dinner after that unbelievable act of passion.
The meal was surprising in how mundane and usual it was. She’d known the food would be superb, and it was, but the conversation was exciting. They spoke of business and his properties all over Scotland. They talked about the places he’d visited and places she wanted to visit. And when they ran out of topics, they jumped from one to another to another—sometimes serious, sometimes jesting and light-hearted, other times debating opinions.
The purpose of the evening had been payment for services rendered but the result had been so much more than that.
And yet, the envelope sitting unopened in front of her belied the purpose for her.
It was hours later, after a meal at noon, that the next invitation arrived. Her body reacted before she even realized what she held in her hands, heating and tightening. She made the comment about not surviving if their evening had been theonce, and thinking about a day with him or a night in his bed made her know the truth of that casual comment.
Tomorrow morning. The dock across from my office. Bring clothing for an overnight trip.
No other clues to his intention or destination or plans.
Clare shivered in frank anticipation.
Worse, she was completely worthless for the rest of the day and evening, taking supper on a tray in her chambers so she could avoid Samantha’s knowing gaze.
The day dawned bright—a good thing considering her lack of sleep—and a short time after leaving her house the coach pulled up at the dock across from Buchanan & Sons in Leith. A man she’d met before stood waiting as she climbed out.
“Mr. Pemberton?”
“Aye, my lady,” he said, greeting her with a bow. “If you will come this way.” Iain’s secretary directed another man to take her bag and they headed down a long wooden dock to a ramp that led onto a sailing ship.
