“I’m not as naïve as my brother, milord. I’m under no illusion that they’ll ever release their hold on Jamie. Which is why I’m here.” Cordelia shifted her gaze from him to Charlotte and then to Sheffield. “Knowing firsthand how skilled you are at solving diabolically clever crimes, I’m hoping you might help me discover the identity of the dastards and plan a way to bring them to justice.”
“Is the murder of Henry Peabody part of this financial conspiracy?” asked Charlotte abruptly.
“Yes! But I swear to you that my brother didn’t kill him. He’s honorable to a fault and abhors violence!” responded Cordelia. “Jamie was summoned to a mysterious meeting at Queen’s Landing. A man—he never identified himself, but it seems it must have been Mr. Peabody—somehow came to know that Jamie had become involved in the enterprise, and handed over papers that he claimed revealed it was a fraud. He also warned my brother of its evils and told him that it must be stopped. In leaving the dockyards, the two of them were attacked. Jamie managed to escape and assumed Peabody did, too. ”
Cordelia bit her lower lip. “It was only later, when I arrived at your house for my lesson with Raven, that I learned otherwise.”
“Go on with your story,” urged Sheffield after several moments of silence had slid by.
The mention of murder appeared to have put Cordelia’s nerves on edge. At the sound of steps coming down the corridor, she hesitated.
A discreet click sounded as the door to the study swung open.
“One of the maids mentioned that refreshments had just been served.” The dowager paused to pat back a yawn. “I feel a bit peckish after my nap. Might I join you?”
“That depends on whether you care to digest a sordid tale of intrigue along with the freshly baked sultana muffins,” said Cordelia from her seat in the shadows.
Alison turned and squinted through her spectacles. “Ye heavens! I saw the boys just now in the gardens, and Raven said you still hadn’t been found.”
“Yes, well, like the old adage says, ‘A bad penny always turns up,’ ” came the sardonic reply.
“Do come in, Alison,” murmured Charlotte. “You need to hear this, too, assuming you’re not having second thoughts about getting involved in another murder investigation.” A wry smile. “Wrexford and I seem to be making a habit of it.”
The dowager quickly took a seat. “I wouldn’t miss it for all the tea in China.”
Cordelia huffed a grim laugh. “It’s funny you should mention tea in China.”
* * *
Charlotte tightened her fingers around her cup, the earl’s expensive Imperial blend turning bitter on her tongue. The tea trade was worth a fortune, and while the East India Company had begun to cultivate their own plantations in India, most of the tea served around the world came from China.
And much to the Company’s ire, China kept an iron-fisted control on its export.
“Lady Cordelia was just beginning to tell us that there’s something very rotten within the East India Company,” said the earl.
Alison’s expression turned grave. “Any trouble there could ripple out to the furthest reaches of society.”
“Precisely.” Wrexford steepled his hands and tapped the point against his chin. “So far, she’s told us how her brother became entrapped in a fraudulent financial scheme being run by someone within the Company. And that the victim in the recent murder at Queen’s Landing was a clerk who had discovered the financial irregularities in the company ledgers and had alerted Woodbridge of the fact.”
“It began with a plot to make an obscene profit from tea,” Cordelia said. “But as you’ll see, the dastardly scheme has evolved considerably over time. The conspirators are malefactors of the worst sort, but they are supremely smart and sophisticated businessmen.” Cordelia paused. “However, as I said, it all started with tea.”
“But . . .” Alison looked troubled. “But that’s impossible. I’ve heard the highest officials in government and the Company’s board of directors say that not even a teaspoon of leaves can be exported, save through the Chinese emperor’s consortium.”
“It’s difficult,” allowed Cordelia. “But not impossible.” She shifted in her chair. “It all has to do with silver.”
“Argentum!” exclaimed Charlotte.
“Yes, Argentum is the name that the conspirators gave to their clever scheme.” Cordelia pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “You see, the Chinese emperor will accept only silver as payment for tea and most other goods exported from his country. That has made silver a valuable commodity here in the West, which has driven up its price.”
“That’s simple economics. The law of supply and demand,” observed the earl.
“Correct. And the situation is made even worse because the emperor will not allow his countrymen to buy British products in return. As a result, silver is flowing out of Britain to China, which has our Treasury extremely worried and further feeds into the increased price for us over here,” said Cordelia. “But that’s where the story begins to get complicated. When I said there was fraud going on within the Company, unfortunately, I can’t tell you who is involved. Jamie and I have only met one of the henchmen, whom I call the Cobra, on account of his soulless reptilian gaze.”
She took a moment to steady her voice. “Nor can I say whether the corruption is known to their superiors. But rot has a tendency to spread . . .”
Charlotte couldn’t in good conscience disagree. Money was like a canker, eating away at even the strictest sense of morality.
“To get back to the details of the plan, the dastards originally came up with a scheme that allowed them to profit in multiple ways.” Seeing that Wrexford was about to speak, Cordelia hurried on. “First of all, they set up a smuggling operation to bring opium from India into China, where only a very small amount is legally allowed to be imported. They make a large profit. As you say, milord, supply and demand.”
