She nodded, and Mr. Garrity’s dark gaze flicked to Wick, who seemed unbothered by the reptilian stare. “As Murray’s recent missives have been rather scant on details, may I presume from your presence today that negotiations have gone well?”
Wick cleared his throat to speak, but Beatrice beat him to it.
“I hope what I have to say will not detract from the pleasure of our acquaintance.” Seeing no reason to beat around the bush, she said crisply, “Mr. Murray and I have not yet reached an agreement concerning the building of your railway upon my land. I have my farms to consider, and while Mr. Murray is exploring a potential solution to preserve said farms whilst laying track, the welfare of my farmers must take precedence for me. I will not agree to any scenario that would jeopardize their livelihoods.”
Mr. Garrity’s expression was unreadable. “You came to London to inform us of this?”
“No.” She drew a breath. “I came to London because it appears someone is trying to scare me off my land. I’ve received a threatening letter, and in the past fortnight my property was subjected to arson and my best friend was kidnapped and terrorized.”
“Bloody hell.” This came from Mr. Kent, whose gaze had shot to Wick. “That is what you were referring to in your letters as ‘unexpected complications’?”
Wick gave a grim nod. “I thought it best to be discreet.”
“Do you have any idea who is behind these crimes?” Mr. Kent asked.
“We have several suspects,” Wick replied, “and clues that have led us to London. I’ve offered Lady Beatrice my protection and assistance in tracking down the villain.”
“What needs to be done?” Mr. Kent’s brown eyes were keen. “Unfortunate timing, but Ambrose—my older brother, who’s an investigator,” he clarified, “is travelling abroad, and he and his partners decided to close the agency for the summer. I believe his partner Mr. Lugo may still be in Town and available for consultation. And I’d be glad to lend a hand, of course. All of us Kents are rather well acquainted with murder and mayhem.”
Bea couldn’t help liking Harry Kent, who was clearly a decent chap.
“Lady Carlisle said the same thing,” she said, smiling at him.
“Violet isn’t just acquainted with mayhem, sheisthe mayhem,” he countered.
Bea’s smile deepened into a grin. “Speaking of which, she’s waiting for me in the carriage, and I’d best take my leave. I’ll leave Mr. Murray to explain the rest of the details.” She curtsied. “Thank you for your time and assistance, gentlemen.”
“Before you go, my lady.” The imperious tones matched the expression of the speaker. Mr. Garrity’s pitch-dark gaze had a glint that she could only describe as calculating. “It would be our honor, of course, to assist you. Once we apprehend the villain, may I assume that our negotiations will continue in a favorable manner?”
“Garrity.” Wick’s tone had a warning edge, his shoulders bunching beneath his jacket.
She couldn’t let him fight her battles for her. This was the reason, she told herself, that she’d insisted on coming today. Because no matter what perils she faced, she wouldn’t sacrifice her independence—wouldn’t be beholden to anyone, including Wick’s partners.
“Let me be clear, Mr. Garrity: my land is notquid pro quo.” She matched her tone to his. “If you assist me, you will have my gratitude…and a monetary reward, if that is your wish.”
At the mention of a reward, she saw insult flash in his eyes, but making her point was more important than preserving his pride. If she’d learned anything from managing her own estate, it was that, as a woman, she couldn’t back down. To do so was tantamount to an invitation for men to walk all over her—and some men would try to do so regardless.
She returned Mr. Garrity’s unflinching gaze, aware of Wick’s bridling presence beside her.
It was Mr. Kent who broke the tense silence.
“You don’t owe us anything,” he said firmly. “It would be our privilege to assist you. Any friend of Murray’s is a friend of GLNR. Isn’t that so, Garrity?”
After a pause, Mr. Garrity inclined his dark head. “Indeed.”
“I’ll see Lady Beatrice out. When I return,”—Wick aimed a hard stare at Garrity—“we’ll discuss the specifics of our plan.”
“By all means.” His partner appeared unperturbed. “It was a pleasure meeting you, my lady.”
* * *
After loading Beatrice into the carriage with his relations, Wick stalked back up the stairs to the meeting room. Garrity was seated at the head of the table again, Kent standing by the window.
Slamming the door shut, Wick demanded, “What the bloody hell was that about, Garrity?”
“What are you referring to?” Garrity’s tone was mild.
“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. How dare you treat her that way?” Wick gritted out. “She’s a defenseless female under attack by some infamous villain. And you try to leverage her troubles to your advantage?”
