The ten-year-old screwed up her face. “I don’t want to marry anybody.”
“That will change soon enough,” he said, laughing. “Now, get back to eating so that you can go to bed early. Your trip starts tomorrow, and you’ll need your rest.”
He made his way downstairs, where he knew Deborah and their older children would be gathered in the music room, awaiting the dinner announcement. His wife wouldn’t be happy that he was leaving for dinner elsewhere, but she knew better than to question him. She was an obedient, boring little thing, but she served him well.
“How nice you look,” Deborah said as she swept across the room to join her husband.
“Thank you, but I won’t be staying to join you for supper. I have a business supper to attend.”
“Oh, how regretful,” she said, her expression proving her disappointment. “Especially with us leaving in the morning.”
“Yes, it is, as you are as lovely as a summer day.” And she was. Deborah always looked beautifully gowned because he paid for her to be that way.
“Papa, can you stay long enough to hear me play my harp?” sixteen-year-old Caroline asked.
He kissed her forehead. “Why don’t you begin the piece now, and I’ll hear at least part of it as I go.”
The other children said nothing, knowing that he would not appreciate their delaying him further. Caroline only dared it because she knew he favored her more than the others.
“Will you be very late, my dear?” Deborah asked.
“Possibly. Don’t wait up for me. As I told Ellen, you need your rest for the trip.”
He signaled the butler to have the carriage brought around and enjoyed the musical talents of his daughter as he waited. She would make someone a good wife. He really needed tostart considering who that young man would be. He had it narrowed to three contenders but hadn’t given it much thought beyond that, what with his more pressing plans to arrange the Indian war.
The carriage ride across town seemed to take forever. Maybe it was just that he was anxious to see Carpenter’s life ended. When the driver finally stopped in front of their destination, Lakewood didn’t even wait for him to open the carriage door.
“Should I wait or return for you, sir?” the driver asked.
“Come back for me around ten. I should have concluded everything by then.”
He walked to the front door and went inside. He’d already arranged for a tasty supper to be made. It smelled heavenly.
He heard noise coming from the dining room. He’d clearly instructed the staff to prepare the meal, then take the evening off and stay away from the house until after ten. He felt for the small pistol he carried in his coat pocket.
“Hello?” He stepped toward the dining room.
Seated at the table was an unwelcome surprise. Lakewood’s mouth went dry, and his throat felt as if it were full of sawdust.
He hadn’t expected to see the tall, muscular man. He was usually content to remain in the shadows and control all of his puppets from a distance. If he’d bothered to come to Portland, something was very wrong.
“Mr. Smith,” Lakewood said, moving into the dining room. “What a surprise.”
Mr. Smith looked up at him, a piece of filet halfway to his mouth. He had helped himself to a hearty portion of Lakewood’s meal. “Yes, well, circumstances have changed, and we must reconsider some of our plans.” He popped the beef into his mouth.
Lakewood went to the sideboard and helped himself to dinner. He saw the wine was already at Mr. Smith’s right hand and grabbed an empty goblet as well. “I hope you are well.” He started for the end of the table.
“Sit here at my left. We have a lot to discuss, and we can’t risk being overheard.”
“Of course.” Lakewood knew there was no sense in trying to make small talk. Smith wasn’t interested in anything other than business.
Lakewood put his plate on the table, as well as the goblet. It was only then that he realized he’d forgotten silverware. He retrieved it quickly, and when he returned to the table, he found that Smith had already filled his glass with wine.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Lakewood said as he took his seat, “but I had planned to have dinner with Gerome Berkshire this evening. He should be here any time.”
“Good. That saves me from having you send for him.” Smith continued eating as if he didn’t know how many social rules he had broken by barging into Lakewood’s house and making himself at home. The fact was, he didn’t care about such formalities even though he’d been raised in society.
“You’ve probably already figured out that I gave the staff the evening off,” Lakewood said.
