Something about the way he said it made her skin crawl and her stomach tighten. When she met Chalmers’ gaze, she knew the worst of it.
Iain Buchanan was behind it.
“Why?” she whispered, even knowing the answer.
If no children came to the school, she had no reason to expand. No use for the properties. They would become expensive empty buildings, useless. She would have no choice but to sell them. Sell them... to him.
“Do you know it for certain, Mr. Chalmers.”
“I have had men following various of them and their leader has reported to Sir Iain’s offices several times over the last three weeks.” That meant that even while he washavingher, he was undermining her plans and her resolve. His words made more sense now, meant to encourage her doubts.
“You mentioned this man before?” He nodded. “A nasty fellow?” Another nod. “What do you suggest?”
“I need a bit more time, my lady. To finalize my investigation. Then I can make some recommendations to you about how you might handle this.”
“Very well,” she said as she stood. “And thank you.”
A stabbing pain pierced her as the truth hit her—he was paying men to terrorize children and keep them from an education that could help them in life. She remained upright until Chalmers closed the door behind him. Then she collapsed back onto her chair, barely making it before the tears came.
Both Chalmers and Lamb and even Duncan had warned her of his ruthlessness and determination. That he did what he needed to do to ensure he got what he wanted. Behind the veneer of a gentleman and a man now entitled to move in the highest circles of society, he did so while plying his trade as he wished. Deceiving and forcing his will as needed.
As humiliating as this was for her, she would not allow him to harm or threaten these children who’d done nothing to him except gotten in his way. Because of her. If he was low enough for this, she doubted his claim of never having lied to her. About Jonathan’s plans or anything else. Or in the way he did not have to lie unless she asked him a very specific question about a specific possibility.
Lies of omission were still lies.
Iain had promised to stop interfering with her project approvals but had not promised that he would not interfere in other ways. So, while she’d thought one thing, he’d done exactly what he’d wanted. And he’d distracted her in the basest way while doing it.
A memory of his eyes staring into hers as he used his tongue to make her scream entered her thoughts and her body arched immediately remembering those intimate attentions.
She jumped up from the chair and walked to the window that faced the street. Unlatching it, she pushed it open several inches and let the cool mist of the day in. It did help the heated flush, but nothing would stop those memories. Not so long as he was in her life. And probably even after he was gone from it.
Rubbing her temples against the ache that had sprung there, she considered the options available to her to make him stop. And there was only one. Closing the window, she summoned David and asked for the documents on the offers and discussions about the property.
The path was clear for, even if Jonathan had changed his mind and done the unthinkable and accepted his offer without telling her, there was no way that he would ever want children used as pawns in this nefarious game Iain Buchanan was playing. Though she could not bring herself to believe Jonathan would have done that—gone behind her back and against her wishes—it mattered not now.
If giving him what he wanted resolved the threats and danger and gave her students the chance to return without interference, then she would have time to sort through it all and decide what, where and how to accomplish Jonathan’s last project.
For no matter the difficulties and recriminations between them at that time, she did not doubt his commitment.
Two days later, her carriage pulled up in front of his offices, and with only one wayward glance to see if the ship was still docked, she entered and politely requested to speak with Sir Iain on an urgent matter. From the flurry of voices and his employees hurrying about, she knew he was not on the premises. But she also understood that they knew she would not come here unless it was important.
“My lady,” his secretary greeted her just minutes later. The same man who had escorted her...
“Good afternoon, Ned.”
“Was there an appointment I did not ken about with Sir Iain?” He opened the notebook he held and ran his hand over the open page searching, she knew, for one that did not exist.
“Nay.” She stood then and approached him. “I must speak with him immediately.”
“I can have him at your office—” He stopped and glanced first at the book, then the clock on the wall, his pocket watch and finally at someone over her shoulder.
“I apologize, my lady,” his man of business said. For a moment, she saw a strange expression in his eyes, but then it was gone. “Sir Iain is not here, and we do not ken when to expect his return.”
“I will wait,” she said, taking her seat once more. “A cup of tea would be nice while I do.”
The confusion on their faces, unable to believe she would not acquiesce, was rewarding. They could shift and stammer and deceive and be part of his shameful plans all they wanted, but somehow, they folded in the face of politeness.
“My lady, I have no way of—”
