The man spluttered for a few seconds as he sought for words, his face paling in light of Reginald’s admission.
His words achieved the desired effect, as Reginald noted the way the man squirmed.
“I hope you realize just how far I am willing to go to protect my interests,” he said darkly, narrowing his eyes to slits as he threatened Mr Blackwood. If there was any chance that people in his inner circle were about to turn against him, he’d make sure they knew who they were dealing with. He’d stop at nothing to keep his past hidden and maintain the title he’d stolen.
“In light of that, Lord Reginald, I think it best you ensure that absolutely no shred of evidence remains after we leave.” Mr Blackwood regained his composure and cocked an eyebrow at Reginald, making sure to use his proper title this time.
Reginald’s mind instantly wandered to the attic and the boxes of papers that still posed a potential threat. If push came to shove, he could always pawn Charlotte off on some distant relative or send her to a convent somewhere in the heart of the country to live with the nuns.
A sudden movement caught his attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a man seated alone at a table, a newspaper in front of him, hiding his face.
“We should bring this meeting to an end; there is much to be done, and it’s still too dangerous to be meeting like this. I will take care of things on my end and meet you at the harbour in two days.” Reginald ended their meeting and reached for his ticket, discreetly tucking the piece of paper into his breast pocket.
“I’ll see you then.” Mr Blackwood stood and tipped his hat in Reginald’s direction, glancing around the room before leaving.
Reginald waited for his partner to leave before glancing around the room. The man who had been hiding behind the paper had already left, seemingly having slipped away while they spoke. Pushing himself up, he left the room and proceeded to descend the stairs of the large building.
“My Lord, if you would wait for a second!” A distant yet familiar voice called to him, making him halt on the stairs as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His anxiety was at an all-time high, and he wasn’t in the mood for idle chit-chat.
Lord Frederick Dunham came hurrying towards him; his trimmed beard and small mustache bounced as he hurried along.
A sudden idea occurred to Reginald as he spotted the gangly man who had incessantly been courting his niece. He was far too plain and simple to be a spy; he was sure of that, at least. The man seemed as if he preferred tea to strong drink, and Reginald prided himself on being able to gauge anyone’s character.
“I apologize for having tracked you down like this, My Lord. I was wondering if we could have a word before you left?” Lord Dunham huffed slightly as he came to a stop at the top of the stairs, looking down on Reginald.
“Ah, Lord Dunham. I am pleased to see you.” Reginald slid into the persona he used to persuade businessmen to trust him.
“You are, My Lord?” Dunham frowned at him.
“Of course, I was just about to go home and ask if we could meet. I take it that things between you and my niece have been progressing as you have hoped?” He tilted his head back with a smug grin as if he had been in support of the arrangement all along.
“Well, yes, I guess one could say that. I was going to talk to you about a few business ideas I had, but I am afraid that I must inform you that your niece has far greater prospects than me these days. It would seem that the Sinclair heir has his sights firmly set on Lady Charlotte,” he answered with sincerity, not seeming too upset about the news.
Panic threatened to build in Reginald’s chest once again at the mention of the Sinclairs. Swallowing hard, he quickly regained his composure and continued the act.
“Don’t let that put you off. I had high hopes for you and Lady Charlotte, and between you and me, I heard that Lord Sinclair is merely passing the time with her. She will see the light soon enough and realize how lucky she is to have an outstanding man such as yourself pursuing her.”
Reginald gripped his lapels in both hands and puffed out his chest as if he were proud of the fact that Dunham was pursuing his niece.
“I’m not sure, My Lord. With all due respect, I think that your niece is pretty taken with the young marquess.” He frowned, keeping his eyes locked on Reginald’s with an intense gaze.
“Nonsense! I am willing to bet that the flirtation won’t last more than a week. We can have a drink and discuss the marriage if you like,” Reginald stated in a business-like manner.
Lord Dunham seemed taken aback rather than pleased. “Should we not consult Lady Charlotte before we agree on anything, My Lord?”
“What reason would we have to consult her? These are matters and decisions for men; women have no business deciding their own fate. You have my full blessing to marry Lady Charlotte as soon as you like.” Reginald raised his voice just as a group of men were passing.
“If you are sure, My Lord, I would still like to discuss a few matters of business …” Lord Dunham said with uncertainty.
“Focus on your impending nuptial first; we have all the time in the world to talk of business. You are marrying my niece! Go and have a drink to celebrate,” Reginald called over his shoulder as he began to descend the stairs, making sure that anyone in earshot bore witness to the agreement.
His lips broke into a wolfish smile as he left Lord Dunham on the stairs. Things were falling into place despite the news he’d just received. He would disappear, faking his death, and most of the ton would know that he’d given his blessing for Lord Frederick Dunham to marry Charlotte. Men in Whites were something worse than women when it came to gossip.
All he had to do now was ensure that he got rid of any evidence that was still possibly in the attic.
Chapter 20
Charlotte walked alone among the roses in the Sinclairs’ vast gardens. The marquess had said that there was something important he needed to tell her, and she couldn’t help feeling that she needed to come clean, preferably before any proposals or admission of feelings. She’d slipped away after breakfast, hoping to have a few moments to herself before he called her aside.
