Malcolm shot him a narrow glare. “I’m off to Whitehall to give an initial report. See you lads later.”
He weaved through the tightly packed tables, holding his breath against the rank mix of body odor and fish. He pushed through the narrow front door of the establishment and out onto the docks, taking a deep breath in through his nose. While no one could accuse the docks of smelling good, the breeze that whipped down and ruffled his hair was fresh and clean compared to the inside of the dockside tavern.
Slapping his hat on his head, he made a right and strode up to the main avenue to hail a hack. Once situated inside the hackney carriage and on his way to Whitehall, Malcolm let his mind wander back to Adeline Amberley’s fine porcelain skin and dark, silky curls. She had smelled so good when they walked together. Once again, that sweet-spicy scent had filled his senses. Women’s perfumes were usually so cloying and floral, but Lady Amberley had smelled…well, simply delicious. Malcolm shook his head at his own fanciful thoughts.
He hadn’t been so entranced by a woman since Bridget.And how did that turn out for you, then?His fingers tightened on his hat, crushing the brim. He let out an aggravated breath. Shy, sweet Adeline Amberley was certainly not anything like Bridget. Bridget had been vivacious, sparkling with wit and personality. He’d fallen fast and hard. But she hadn’t been capable of being true. Or perhaps he had been blinded by his own desire to claim her among so much competition.
In contrast, Lady Amberley raised his protective instinct. He was sure she knew something of what her brother and father were embroiled in. She was clever; any fool could see that. But what had Rawlings gotten involved in? How would he have known about the stolen artifacts not even listed on the manifest? Perhaps Malcolm was putting together clues where there were none. God knew, no one ever accused him of being a genius. Perhaps Lord Rawlings was simply auctioning off jewelry or other items of value to earn some coin.
After the hack pulled up at Whitehall, Malcolm exited and paid the driver. He strode up to the front of the building. He would keep his suspicions about Rawlings to himself for now. There was no use besmirching the family’s reputation until he had some concrete proof. He did not want to hurt Lady Amberley’s reputation, especially while she was trying to find herself a decent husband. Another black mark against her father, promising his daughter to a man thrice her age like she was another possession to be sold.
He climbed the two flights of stairs and then headed to Admiral Daniels’s office at the end of the corridor. The door was ajar, but Daniels was not alone. Another man sat in the guest chair, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. “Admiral Daniels, I need this matter to be settled immediately. I must send word to Mr. Kyrios. He is not a patient man. Kyrios will be the most influential statesman in Greece if their bid for independence is successful. As you know, England has pledged our help to their cause. Having a British ship stealing from them whilst they are fighting a war looks very bad for our future relationship.”
“Yes, sir. I have my people working on it as we speak.” Daniels glanced up and spotted Malcolm in the hallway. “Ah, here is my man right now. Come in, Commander Iveson.”
Malcolm swept his hat off and tucked it under one arm before striding into the richly appointed office. He gave a bow to both men. “Good afternoon.”
“Lord Bellamy, may I introduce Commander Iveson, Lord Kingsbury. He has been assigned to find your missing crate. He has been fully briefed as to the contents.”
This was Lord Bellamy? This graying older gentleman was looking for a young bride? It took all his control not to sneer at the man for being such a lecher.
Instead, Malcolm turned to face Daniels. “Sir, I have just come from meeting Captain Horn, who confirmed that all the confiscated crates have been thoroughly searched, and the missing items are not among them.
“Further, I have discreetly asked around about the finances of each of the three peers you asked me to investigate and was told that Neelum and Fenwick often dabble in overseas investments. Lord Fenwick is heavily invested in sugarcane in the Caribbean. But Lord Rawlings is not a habitual investor in commerce. He is well known for losing money at the tables but not for his business acumen. Perhaps his son, Lord Danby, is the one looking to diversify their sources of income?”
“All right. So, no concrete evidence that any of these men possess the missing items?”
“Not yet, sir. I have made contact with all three at social functions, but this type of thing is not something one brings up in conversation at the first introduction.”
Daniels ran his hand down over his long mustache. “True. Keep your eyes open, and I suggest sticking to the card rooms where liquor and the distraction of gaming make for good gossip.”
“I have assigned Lieutenant Trent to keep an ear to the ground for auctions popping up. He is contacting all our connections in London.”
Lord Bellamy stiffened in his seat. “Do you think the items will be sold so quickly?”
“I doubt that the thief is a collector. It looks like these items are worth a pretty penny. If they are smart, they will find wealthy buyers willing to bid against each other. Or if they do not recognize the value of the pieces, they might simply unload them to a fence for the price of the gold. Either way, the network of informants we have made over the years will hear about it. These pieces are too unique to go unnoticed,” Malcolm assured Bellamy.
“Thank you, Commander. You are excused,” Daniels dismissed him.
Malcolm bowed and exited back to the long corridor that led to the front stairs, happy to be out of the foreign secretary’s presence. The old goat. The more he thought about the man touching Lady Amberley, of having the right to touch her, the further his temper rose. He let out a long breath. What was he doing getting worked up about a lady he barely knew? Lady Amberley’s prospective matrimonial prospects were none of his business.
He was only in London temporarily, and then he would return to his regular sea duties running down smugglers. Why did the prospect of his usual responsibilities suddenly seem so dismal? Were all the glittering parties already spoiling him for life at sea? Or was it a pair of whiskey-colored eyes that were fast becoming his siren’s song?
Chapter Nine
The next morning,Malcolm dug into his breakfast at Mrs. Robinson’s boarding house. The rooms he had rented were simple but clean and far more spacious than his quarters on board ship. The area of town was respectable, and his fellow tenants were all men of means. But by far, the best part of staying at the boarding house was the grub. He had not eaten this well in years. Taking another bite of ham, he picked up the newspaper.
Across from him, Mr. Deerfield looked up from the newspaper he was reading. “Commander Iveson, your name is in the paper this morning.” He folded the paper in half and slid it across the table to Malcolm. Deerfield tapped a finger about halfway down the page. “That’s you, Kingsbury, right?”
Malcolm nodded. He read where the man pointed.It appears that Lord Kingsbury has found a prospective bride. He was seen flirting and dancing with our favorite wallflower at the Holden ball. And she had his full attention as they strolled through St. James’s Square Monday afternoon. There is certainly something special about this dark-haired beauty.Malcolm shook his head. A couple of encounters with the lady and the gossips had them paired.
“Is that why you are in town? To find a wife?” Deerfield asked.
“Yes, in part,” Malcolm replied. It was his cover, and you never knew what information got back to what people.
Deerfield patted his ample belly. “Ah to be young. Don’t get yourself shackled to the first girl you meet on shore. There are plenty of fish in the sea.”
Malcolm winced at the cliché. The older man took the paper back and then tucked into his coddled eggs. Perhaps a shade over forty, the successful barrister was happy-go-lucky and seemed satisfied living as a bachelor. But it felt a little sad to Malcolm. As much as he hadn’t thought about marriage since his disastrous engagement to Bridget, he knew he wanted a family someday.
