“I couldn’t agree more, but if you’re planning to send your funds overseas and invest in some factory producing rifles in Greece, I really must caution you against it.”
“And so you should, but that’s not my plan.” Simon gathered his thoughts before saying, “My father always told me to look ahead, past tomorrow’s anticipated outcome and to the future one might expect from the actions made in the here and now. So if there’s a chance Britain might get involved in the Greek fight for independence, betting on British munitions companies might not be the worst idea in the world.”
Kirksdale stared at Simon with the sort of piercing scrutiny that made his insides clench. The marquess took another sip of his port. “You’ve quite a progressive mind. A pity we haven’t discussed such matters before, but at least we’re doing so now. And to thank you for your insight, might I suggest looking into the Shadwell Gun Works? They’ve given me excellent returns in the past.”
“Really?”
Kirksdale responded with a pensive nod. He took a slow slip of his drink, then added, “They’re the most popular choice for the army.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the tip.” Simon stood, not too hastily nor too slowly. “If you’ll excuse me now, I promised Yates I’d join him for a drink.”
“And I must return to the news of the day.”
Simon dipped his chin in acknowledgement of the comment and walked away, pleased with the facts he’d gathered since it did make Kirksdale a more likely suspect than his very own uncle.
Good God!
When Miss Strong had mentioned Elliot, it had been terribly hard to maintain an inscrutable expression. But he’d had to. He’d realized that right away. If Miss Strong learned that he, Simon, was related to one of the men she suspected, she’d put a swift end to their arrangement. Of that he had no doubt. And since he wasn’t ready to give up her or their adventure just yet, he’d chosen to keep the information to himself.
“There’s a rumor going around,” Yates said, once Simon had taken a seat in the chair adjacent to his and acquired a brandy, “involving you and one of Amourette’s women.”
Simon almost spat out his drink but managed to force the liquid down his throat instead. “Hmm?”
Yates grinned. “So it’s true then? Looks like I owe Hawthorne two pounds. Wasn’t convinced you would actually dare to be seen in that part of Town. Almost threatens to damage the perfect reputation you’ve spent your whole life cultivating.”
“It was a onetime thing,” Simon said, trying to shake off the chill creeping over his shoulders. “I’ve no intention of ever going back there.”
“Because you’re barred from the establishment?” Yates gave him an amused look. “From what I gather you caused quite the ruckus.”
“A misunderstanding. Nothing more.”
“And would this misunderstanding by any chance have something to do with Miss Ida Strong’s surprising return from the dead?”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Simon lied while heat crept up the back of his neck.
“No?” Yates frowned, then gave a slight shrug and relaxed against his chair. “Fair enough. But it is interesting.”
“What is?” Simon croaked. He feared his cravat might suffocate him.
“You being at the brothel the same night her existence there was discovered. How it happened to coincide with your little spectacle. The fact that I know you were a friend of her father’s and—”
“Enough,” Simon hissed. He glanced around quickly before returning his gaze to Yates’s. “Not another word. Whatever you think you may know is entirely wrong. Got it?”
Yates slowly nodded. “Of course.”
“Can I count on you to let others know there’s nothing more to it? That the rumor is false?”
“Is everything all right?” Yates asked with a frown. “You look a bit ill.”
Simon felt ill. He took a moment to simply sit, stay silent, and think. If Yates had unraveled the truth so quickly, others would too. His only hope was to squash the rumor immediately. “I was turned away from Amourette’s that night for complaining about a whore who didn’t quite meet my standards. Things got a bit heated.”
“Oh,” Yates muttered and suddenly grinned. “Ohhh. Wily fellow, you. Well done.”
“No, I don’t mean…” Simon stopped himself.
If Yates mistakenly thought he was telling the truth, he’d be better able to convince others that Simon had nothing to do with Miss Strong. Anyone daring to say otherwise would do so at the risk of their own reputation. They would have to admit where they’d been and what they’d been up to. Simon could only hope they weren’t reckless enough to do so, but one could never be sure.
He schooled his features to hide his concern. “Care for a game of cards?”
