He could see her slump in her saddle and feared she would say no at once. Instead, she looked to the sky, thinking private thoughts.
“It would be wicked of me,” she said at last.
He was the one being wicked. Undoubtedly, he should leave her alone.
“Perhaps a lowly cricket match?” he asked, feeling slightly heartened that she had not turned him down immediately.
Glancing at him, she rolled her eyes. “If this were a game of cricket, we would be on opposing teams,” she reminded him. and her face became grim. “Unfortunately, this isnota game.”
“Definitely not,” he agreed. “Howbeit, we are more like spectators in the match than players, aren’t we? Should we not spend any time together because our teams are at odds?”
She considered his words, and he let her do so in silence as they finally rounded the edge of the Serpentine onto the King’s Road.
“Rotten Rowis an ugly term for this lovely path, isn’t it?” she asked, ignoring their earlier conversation and his question. They were together right then, so he decided to let the matter rest.
“It is,” he agreed.
After another minute of silence, she asked, “Do you ever inspect your family’s mines?”
A strange change of subject,he thought.
“Yes, periodically, although we have a manager.”
“As do we,” she said. “And your father, does he still run your company?”
“He does. In fact, he’s determined to give Burnley Mining more of his time and leave his seat in Parliament to me.”
She sighed.
“Why do you ask?” he persisted.
“After the American play, Thomas and I spoke about mining conditions in general and the state of our mines in particular. He didn’t know as much as he believed he should. Also, our engineer wants to increase profits in ways my brother isn’t sure about.”
“What does your general manager say?” Owen asked.
“He is also our engineer.”
“That’s unusual,” he told her. “A manager doesn’t usually have the skills of an engineer, and vice versa.”
“I do not know of such things. Coincidentally, Thomas had decided he was going to ask you or your father for some advice.”
Owen shook his head.How odd and disturbing!The young man who killed his sister was going to ask her family for business advice. He could not credit such gall. If it were anyone but Adelia saying it, he would tell her so.
“If this…this situation with my brother continues for any length of time, I suppose I shall have to meet with Mr. Beaumont myself. I believe Thomas does so at least weekly.”
“Mr. Beaumont?” he asked.
“Our engineer and manager.”
The name tickled some memory, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. Perhaps he’d heard of him before.
“I would offer to help, but…,” Owen trailed off and shrugged. It was beyond awkward.
Her smile was brittle. “But we are on opposing teams.”
Worse than that, if Owen met with the Smythe manager and gave any advice, and subsequently, the company’s profits decreased, it would appear as if he were trying to take down a rival mining business. Best he keep his distance.So, why were the next words out of his mouth an offer to help?
“If you get into the thick of it and need to speak with someone who is objective about anything to do with your coal mines, I will be happy to help you.”
