ChapterOne
Graham
London, England
1813
“This one is ambitious, Graham,” Tom said, eyes fixed on the papers he held as he walked beside me. My closest friend from our days together at Cambridge, he was a head shorter than I was, stout, with a hairline that had already admitted defeat. “Are you certain of success?”
I gave him a look full of all the exhaustion I felt. “As certain as one can be in any investment.”
I’d hardly slept last night, instead going over the numbers, drawing and redrawing the plan, practicing the speech I’d give Mr. Lane when I asked for his partnership. My mind would not relent, poring over every minute detail, looking for that one thing I might have forgotten, misplaced, miscalculated.
“This could be the one time you’re overconfident,” Tom muttered. My friend doubled as my banker and financial adviser, so my success was his success as well. I brought him investment proposals, some riskier than others, and he’d adviseme on whether or not I could manage them. Sometimes we disagreed on whether Ishouldthough.
Passersby were trickling home, leaving the easternmost edge of Hyde Park quiet save for a solitary laugh in the distance, the crunching of boots on gravel. An older woman crossed our path, and I stopped short to keep from colliding with her, holding out an arm to catch Tom, whose focus was so complete he’d have walked himself off a cliff. Her primped little dog yelped as it struggled against its leash, trying to chomp at our boots.
Tom grunted. “Half the payment, you could manage. But all?” He shuffled the four pages in his hands, mind working behind his eyes. His voice lowered. “After all this time, you’re finally secure. You are comfortable. Why risk that now? Think of your mother. Your sisters.”
“Iamthinking of them, and of their futures.” The investment had fallen so neatly into my lap, it was the first time I’d considered believing in fate. It was exactly what I’d been searching for. What Ineeded. An investment that would pay out for the rest of our lives. “I realize I cannot afford to buy the land outright myself,” I said, so he’d know I had considered all the options. “I haven’t come to London merely foryouropinion.”
Tom furrowed his brow, mumbling to himself. “Half, yes. Half. Or better, your usual quarter of a whole, if he’s willing.”
Would he be? None of what I did was a one-man job. Finding the right pieces to the puzzle had been key to my success. Tom, my family, and especially Mr. Lane. That familiar sick feeling from talking about money twisted my gut. Not of fear, though. Over the years, Mr. Lane had become a mentor, a good friend, and I respected his decisions. It wasthe feeling I got when I needed something important, desperately, but I wasn’t sure I could have it. The feeling had followed me my whole life.
“Half,” I repeated.
Tom nodded curtly, shuffling again. The crease in his brow deepened as he focused on the numbers. “If you want it—”
“I want it.” Grabbing his arm, I directed him around a hole in the path, toward Mayfair and the most elite townhouses in London.
He looked up from the papers, nodding to a passing gentleman. “I’ll move some things around. You’re due a payment from the Bradley account, but your earnings from the Bristol investment ought to cover you until then.” He held up a page, always checking, then rechecking.
We crossed the street, and there it was, just ahead. The Lane House. Standing tall, sweeping, as white and fresh as it must’ve been the day it was built. Even the front door, shining and sleek in the sunlight, reeked of money, and I both loved and hated the smell of it.
Too little and you’ll starve to death. Too much and you’ll drown.
“I daresay Miss Lane isn’t going to like this.” Tom studied the grand house as we approached, our footsteps slowing.
“She’ll recover.” I glanced at the top right window and straightened my cravat. Tom, as though on instinct, smoothed his coat and lifted his chin. Everyone who was anyone stood a little taller when they passed the Lanes’ house.
“Have you heard”—Tom cleared his throat, busying himself with organizing the papers a final time—“if she might be attending Frank’s assembly?”
My brows rose. An incredibly intelligent man such as himself couldn’t possibly be so daft. Anna Lane had dozens of suitors every Season, but not even the richest, highest ranking of them all were good enough. The latest rumors had her on Alexander Lennox’s arm, which only confirmed my opinions of her. “I have not heard. Nor would I encourage you to seek her out. The woman is poison, Tom.”
He bristled. “She is no such thing. Why, just this afternoon she—”
“She is a snake hiding in the bushes, waiting for a man to put out his hand so she can strike.”
Tom laughed outright, then slapped a hand on my shoulder. “Not Anna Lane. She is an eternal Diamond of the First Water.”
In Society’s eyes, perhaps. But what did Society know? “She’s a shrew.”
Tom grinned as though he understood something I did not. “You would know better than I.” He tipped his hat, handing me back my papers. “Send notice, and I’ll be ready to adjust your funds.”
“Thank you.” I nodded back. Tom retreated, and I drew in a long, steadying breath.
Facing the grand entrance, the tall mahogany door framed by white stone columns, I took off my hat.He won’t pass this up. He can’t.Of all the investments I’d brought to Mr. Lane over the past three years, this one dwarfed them all. As I took the four steps, I rustled a hand through my flattened hair and licked my lips. Before I could knock, the door opened.
