Gil set down the chalk cube as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Just trying to keep the correspondence lighthearted, you know.”
No, actually, he didn’t. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Because something is definitely off, and I demand to know what it is. What happened on the Continent? You were there at the behest of Mr. Durand, were you not? Did something go wrong with his investments?”
“Ha-ha! Nothing of the sort. I merely finished the Durand business in record-breaking time, hence my early arrival.” He eyed the tip of his stick. “I wouldn’t keep secrets from you, you know. We’ve been partners far too long for that.”
He’d like to trust in their past history, and he would—ifMiss Dalton’s suspicion weren’t roaming around the corridors of his mind. He cleared his throat. “Miss Dalton tells me there are some coins missing from the workroom.”
“Is that so?” Gil drawled.
“Yes. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“Perhaps you ought to ask her.” He bent over his stick, lining up just the right angle. “She probably counted incorrectly.”
Of all the blame shifting. How dare the man accuse the very one who’d caught him in the act! Edmund white-knuckled his stick so hard his fingers ached, yet he kept his tone casual. A cornered badger was never one to carelessly poke. “Miss Dalton saw you, Gil. She came upon you as you stood near the coins this morning, putting your hand into your pocket.”
Gil jabbed at the cue ball and missed. Frowning, he straightened,the fresh bandage on his head stark white against his reddening face. “All right. If you must know, I took them.”
“You—?” Edmund choked. “Why?”
“As a surprise for you.” He shrugged. “I intended to get them restored and mounted as a gift when we make the sale with Harrison. It’s your shot.”
Edmund stood motionless. Why did everything about Gil seem so off? “And yet you took those coins before Harrison was even here.”
“Well, I didn’t mean him per se. The fact is, you’ll sell the load to someone, and at that point, I planned to award you a congratulatory token of the deal. Blast it, Price! It wasn’t like I stole them.” He puffed a disgusted snort. “Besides, I didn’t realize you were such a saint.”
“And I didn’t realize how much you’d changed while I’d been abroad.” Seething, he smacked the cue ball with a satisfying clack. The white sphere slapped around from bumper to bumper, knocking his own ball into a pocket and following right behind it. He jammed his hand into the netting and yanked them both out, thwacking them on the table as he faced Gil. “What’s happened to you?”
“Ha-ha! Don’t be a fool.” He took a shot and potted his own ball, then moved in for another shot. “Perhaps it is you who has changed. Ever think of that? I am the same as I always have been, old man.”
Edmund gritted his teeth, theold manmoniker proving his point. Gil had never called him anything other than Edmund, trendy terminology or not. “I beg to differ. The Gilbert Fletcher I know is a patient man, honest to a fault, doesn’t imbibe, and wouldn’t dream of lewd comments in the presence of a lady. You’ve hardly been here more than twenty-four hours and already blown those traits out of the water.” He lowered his voice, the gravity of what he was about to say sitting like a brick in his gut. “I demand to know why, Gil. For though it pains me to say so, I am seriously considering cutting ties with you despite the fact that we’ve worked together for so many years. If I didn’towe the protection of my family wealth to you, I’d have already sent you packing.”
A sigh sank his business partner’s shoulders, and his next jab hit the ball sideways, sending it aimlessly spinning across the green felt. Gil straightened, his face ashen, the pool balls temporarily forgotten. “Very well. Though I hate to admit it, the truth is, you couldn’t be more right. I haven’t been myself lately, not for the past few years, actually. You see, I ...”
Snapping his mouth shut, Gil snatched the chalk and rubbed the cube on the end of his cue stick as if his life depended upon it. “Loneliness has a way of carving the heart right out of a man.”
Edmund shook his head as he strode to the end of the table. “With all your friends and associates in London? Surely you have far too many social engagements to fall victim to melancholy.”
“It was like that ... at least it used to be.” Gil tucked his chin, eyes on his shoes.
Whatever was on his mind couldn’t be good. Edmund set his stick to the table, focusing on the yellow ball.
“I met a woman,” Gil began. “Charlotte and I were kindred spirits, or so I thought. I pursued her hard for a year, met her family, introduced her to mine. Things were going swimmingly.” A low breath shuddered out of him. “But then she stopped seeing me. Not a word as to why. No excuses. Nothing. I have no idea what I did wrong, and it’s been eating away at me ever since.”
Edmund punched the stick against the ball, sending the thing over the edge of the table and cracking to the floor. He knew well how a woman could bring a man to his knees. “Women,” he grumbled as he reset the ball on the table. “God’s gift and torture.”
“Would that it were only that.” Gil spread his hands. “Business matters have been a struggle as well. You know the stock exchange. Of late it’s been a battle to stretch my pennies—which weighs heavy on my mind. The failures. The loss. As you’ve noticed, I’ve turned to drink to cope with it all. I’m not proud of it, but I don’t know how else to manage. Yet manage I must,and the only way to do that is to get more money.” He tossed back his head, a desperate look in his eyes.
Edmund stared, stunned, and not just a little horrified. “Are you telling me our business is nearing bankruptcy?” His words were a growl.
“Ha-ha! Don’t panic, old man. It is my affairs that are wanting, not yours.”
He racked his pool cue, as done with the game as Gil appeared to be. “And yet many of our affairs are entwined, are they not?”
“True ... and so perhaps you will now share the same urgency I feel in selling that lot of relics to Harrison.”
Edmund exhaled long and low. “Why did you not tell me of this matter sooner?”
“Thought I could handle it on my own.” Gil rolled his stick between his palms, back and forth, staring at the motion for a long while before snapping his gaze back to Edmund. “But no need to fret like a housewife. We’ll simply sell the load to Harrison, and all will be well.”
