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“Money governs which laws pass and fail in this country,” Silvester said. “For example, England just passed a coinage act that established a gold standard for the pound. Do you know of it?”

“I read about the Coinage Act,” Stella said. She was fairly certain that Mrs. Thyme would gasp in horror if she knew that Stella revealed as much, but it wasn’t as if the duke was one of her suitors.

“The act is an exemplar of laws invoked by commerce rather than by those who govern. The Royal Mint is regulated by laws enacted by the Houses of Lords and Commons, but the content of those laws? Politicians don’t have the knowledge or, if you’ll forgive me, the intelligence.”

Stella thought about it. “So, are you a banker? When you’re not being a duke, I mean.”

“No,” he said. “Bankers spend too much time fiddling about.”

She narrowed her eyes. “But you do things with money, don’t you? With gold, I expect, since you brought up the new act.”

“I do.” Silvester slowed his team to a walk as they threaded their way through a crowded street. “During the war with France, the Mint issued bundles of paper notes. Now the Prime Minister needs to redeem them.”

“But not with silver coinage?” Stella watched intently as the sophisticated aristocrat peeled away as if he had never existed.

This man, the one sitting beside her, breathed a different kind of power, one brewed of intelligence and daring, if she had to guess.

“Silver coins have been debased and will be used only for small denominations.”

Stella didn’t understand why, but she wasn’t interested in particulars at the moment. The complexities of the man who sat next to her were far more absorbing.

“What did you have to do with the decision?” she asked. “Who was behind the law? The Mint? The Prime Minister? The House of Lords?”

“Lords are born to a position that gives them a voice,” Silvester said. “It doesn’t give them the ability to understand complicated fiscal policy.”

“But you have that ability,” Stella guessed.

“I watch the markets. For several years, the market price of silver has been lower than the Mint valuation. The financial stability of the country depends on balance. Using a gold standard will solve that problem.”

“I see.” Stella watched him from under her lashes. Silvester was guiding his team with nonchalant ease even though the street was crowded with masses of shoppers, barking dogs darting from one side to another, not to mention a child wielding a broom in the center of the crossing.

Generally speaking, she had found people to be precisely whom they appeared to be. Mrs. Thyme presented herself as a matron who spent her energy honoring the elaborate rituals of society and fearing the disreputable passions of men. And that was precisely who she was.

On the opposite extreme, Stella had thought Silvester was kindly and discovered he was occasionally unkind. She had thought he was foolish, and it seemed he was the opposite. Nor was he lazy.

In fact, he was Machiavellian; her favorite author would think him a fine candidate for a prince. Put that together with the fact that Silvester couldn’t bear not to win . . .

“I would guess you bought gold in large amounts in the last six months,” she hazarded. “You thereby influenced the price that the Mint puts on that coinage.”

She saw one side of his mouth curling up. It wasn’t the big, charming smile he offered to society. It signaled genuine amusement.

“How did you come to that conclusion?” he asked.

“I guessed. You are unlikely to be satisfied with an advisory role, no matter how carefully you watch the markets.”

“I thought I was so bumbleheaded that I could scarcely be trusted to pay my gardeners?”

“Do you want me to pat you on the hand for doing something other than capering in a ballroom?”

Chapter Ten

Silvester threw back his head and laughed. Every time he thought he understood Stella, she surprised him again.

“My mother thinks that I should leave these matters to the Bank of England,” he said. “You’re the first to understand that trading currencies is crucial to financial futures, hers and others. May I call you Stella, by the way?”

“No, you may not,” she stated.

“Specs?”