“Do you believe I would refuse?”
“I believe you would question,” he said, “and that may be more dangerous to him than refusal.”
She absorbed that. “Therefore he takes instead? I find that hard to reconcile with the man I have known my whole life.”
“He ensures the outcome without risking the conversation.”
Francesca’s fingers tightened slightly against the desk. “That suggests he knows I would not approve.” For a moment she did not speak. Then, more softly, she said, “My name is associated with whatever is happening. I must know what it is.”
She did not add what lay beneath the words—that Kendall was her friend, that trust had once been given freely and without calculation; that betrayal, if it existed, was not merely financial.
Major Manners’ expression altered very slightly, as though he understood the portion left unspoken. “I know someone,” he said, “who can verify where your funds go.”
Francesca looked up at once. “Discreetly?”
“Entirely.”
She studied him for a moment, then nodded once. “Very well.”
“In the meantime,” Major Manners continued, “there is something further you should know.”
“Please continue.”
“Kendall is involved in more than the salons you have attended.”
Her breath stilled of its own accord. “What do you mean?”
“We have reason to believe he is connected to certain groups operating beyond polite discussion.”
Francesca’s gaze did not waver as she considered him. “What sort of groups?”
“The sort that do not limit themselves to persuasion.”
Francesca straightened slightly. She felt as though the air itself had altered.
“We are looking into the nature of them as we speak,” he added.
Then, very quietly, she asked, “Do you think he will do something criminal… and with my funds?”
He did not soften the answer. “Quite possibly, I fear.”
Francesca turned away for a moment, moving towards the window as she had done earlier, though this time there was no uncertainty in the motion. She stood there, looking out without seeing, her thoughts moving swiftly and with far greater clarity than they had earlier.
She closed her eyes briefly. When she turned back, all hesitation had left her.
“What should we do?” she asked.
He did not move immediately towards her, but there was something in his posture that suggested readiness.
“He expects me to offer support,” she said.
“Then we give him what he expects.”
There was the briefest hint of approval in his expression. “Enough to see where it goes, that is all.”
Francesca considered his words, then nodded once. “I insisted on a full accounting.”
“He may disguise the structure behind it.”
