At that precise instant, Mr. Beaumont strolled through the open door, looking pleased with himself until he saw her. His expression changed to concern.
“Lady Adelia, I had no idea you were coming. How can I help you?”
A hundred thoughts flashed through her brain, chief among them was why Mr. Beaumont had an envelope addressed to the same town where Constance Moore’s sister and mother resided.Coincidence?
An entirely different question came out of her mouth. “Were you following my brother and his female friend one night a few weeks back?”
He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it.
“How do you know?”
This admission sent a thrill shivering along her spine.Should she be frightened of Mr. Beaumont?
“Lord Burnley saw you,” she replied calmly.
“I see.” He looked over at the clerk. “Mr. Bunning, please take the mail you’ve prepared to the post office.”
“Yes, sir.” The clerk removed the apron that protected his clothing from all the ink he used, before donning his coat and hat. Efficiently, he gathered up a small pile of envelopes from his desk, and as he passed Mr. Beaumont’s, scooped up his stack as well.
When the door closed behind him, Adelia realized the precariousness of her situation, alone with a man in a confined office. As she had been going only to the police station, she hadn’t brought Penny.
Casually looking around the room in the silence, she began to stroll as if toward the window, overlooking Thames Street. She glanced outside as calmly as possible, then she began to pace toward the door.
Mr. Beaumont beat her to it. Her heart racing, she held her breath when he reached for the handle.Was he going to lock her in with him?
A second later, he yanked it open. “Mr. Bunning should have known better, my lady. I apologize.”
Her heart still thumping wildly, she sank into the nearest chair.
“Are you all right, Lady Adelia?”
“Yes, Mr. Beaumont. Thank you. You were going to tell me why you followed my brother.”
“Of course. Naturally, I didn’t want to speak in front of the clerk. He’s been with us a couple years now, but one never knows to whom he might tell tales.”
“Naturally,” she echoed.
“I mentioned to you once that I was concerned over your brother. Lord Burnley came to see me recently, questioning me about Lord Smythe. It seemed he wanted me to report something unsavory. Unsurprisingly, I told him my employer had never acted in an untoward fashion.”
“Thank you,” she said, wishing Owen would leave her family and their employees alone.
“You’re welcome.” He paused. “However, I lied.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, alarm returning. “In what way?”
“Lord Burnley was correct. I was watching your brother that night, but only because I had seen him on other occasions with another woman, one whom I believed might mean trouble for our business.”
She ignored the familiar way in which he again seemed to claim ownership of Smythe Coal. For she could think only of one woman to whom he might be referring.
“Who?” she asked, dreading the awful answer.
“Lady Sophia Burnley.”
Her tone flat, Adelia said, “That’s impossible.”
“Nevertheless, it’s the truth. I saw him with her, closeted together in his carriage one day in the Knightsbridge area. When I saw the earl’s crest, I went over to say hello,” he added, staring over her head as if recalling the day. “As I approached, the door opened, and he jumped out. After looking both ways along the pavement, he helped her down.”
She frowned. “He didn’t see you?”
