The Edge of Desire

was.

Hope that on this unsettling and unfamiliar battleground, he was advancing his cause, and drawing ever closer to recapturing her heart.

Chapter 13

The following morning, Christian left Letitia sprawled boneless in her bed; returning to Allardyce House, he breakfasted in solitary state, then went to call on Montague. That expert in money matters received him in his office-with a frown.

“I’m having a great deal of difficulty following the trail of Randall’s money back in time-which I shouldn’t have. It’s as if he, as a financial entity, simply came into being, fully funded, twelve years ago.” Montague reached across his desk, picked up a sheet and peered at it. “Interestingly, that was the same time-twelve years ago-that the Orient Trading Company first surfaced.”

Lowering the sheet, Montague looked over his pince-nez at Christian, seated before the desk. “It’s quite remarkable that I can find no trace of any accounts for Randall prior to his establishing the accounts he died with, all of which are with London banks.”

“Twelve years ago, Randall was twenty-two years old.”

“Indeed. And I can tell you there are few twenty-two-year-olds who could claim the level of capital he had. I’ve even considered the question of an alias, but there’s no sign of that. Much as it shocks me, I’m tending to the theory that when Randall set up his currently held accounts twelve years ago, he deposited the funds in cash. It was a significant amount, yet there’s no trace of that money coming from anywhere-meaning any other account or instrument or fund.” Montague shook his head. “It had to have been moved in cash.”

Christian nodded. Given Randall’s background, that was perhaps not surprising. Chances were, he hadn’t had much to do with banks before coming to London.

“One thing I have made headway with is the estimation of Randall’s final estate. I’ve yet to hear back regarding the estimated worth of the third share in the Orient Trading Company, but even leaving that aside, the figure is quite startling.” Montague glanced at a sheet of paper, then handed it across the desk.

Christian took it, read the figure, and raised his brows.

“Indeed.” Montague sat back, removing his pince-nez. “While I’m sure it’s not what you want to hear, I would have to say that Randall’s estate provides an excellent motive for murder, even if the one inheriting is one’s sister.”

Christian pulled a face. He handed the sheet back. “And the company?”

“The Orient Trading Company appears to be a legitimate enterprise, at least on the surface, with reputable legal representatives. As to the nature of its business, I’ve sent out inquiries, but have yet to hear more.”

“We’ve found a set of books that Randall kept-they appear to be the accounts, income and expenses, and so on, of the Orient Trading Company, but even though we’ve only started looking through them, all the entries are in some sort of code-as if they’re payments to and from various sources but with only initials identifying the sources, and no indication of what goods were traded.”

Montague frowned. “That sounds like an amateurish method of account keeping, but it doesn’t preclude what I’ve said-the company may still be entirely legitimate, just run very privately and secretively.”

“Randall was nothing if not secretive, so that’s no surprise.” Christian thought, then said, “It might be best if you concentrate first on identifying the other owners.”

“The beneficial owners.” Picking up a pen, Montague made a note.

“Just so. And it would be helpful if you could verify the company’s income, at least to the extent of confirming whether it was profitable or not. After that, if we still have no clue as to what the company’s business consists of, we’ll need you to delve deeper. We’ll see what we can learn from the books first, but it might well be that they’ll only increase the mystery.”

Montague nodded. “Rest assured I’ll give these matters my fullest attention.”

His enthusiastic tone made Christian smile; as he stood, he remarked, “You seem to enjoy these forays into investigation.”

“Oh, I do.” Montague pushed back his chair and rose. “Indeed, I will admit I live for the unusual queries you and some of my other clients bring me from time to time. They lend spice to the mundane accounting and investing that otherwise is my bread and butter. While sustaining, bread and butter and nothing else can be rather dull.” Smiling, Montague accompanied Christian to the door. “Sadly, good money management often is deathly dull, so I feel rather blessed when you or one of the others looks in.”

Christian grinned; he saluted as he went through the door. “Glad to be of service.” Walking through the outer office, he headed back to Mayfair.

At midday they all assembled in Randall’s study-Letitia, Christian, and Dalziel, with Hermione as lookout. They shut Mellon out and locked the study door, much to his consternation.

Also to Barton’s; the runner was still keeping watch from the street. Lounging against the area railings of the house opposite, he’d noted Christian’s and Dalziel’s arrivals with mounting curiosity. When Letitia drew the study curtains firmly across the windows, then peeked through a tiny gap, she saw Barton frowning. He started across the street; she tugged the curtains closed.

Turning, she glanced at the study door. “Did you leave the key in the lock?”

“Of course,” Dalziel replied.

“Good!” She ignored the arrogant look he sent her. “So even if he weasels his way into the house, that pest Barton won’t be able to see in.”

A heavy knock fell on the front door. Letitia waved dismissively. “Don’t bother-it’ll only be him.” She headed for the window and the catch for the secret door.

“I don’t think so.” Christian sent her a warning look.

She slowed, halted-and heard deep voices in the front hall.

Christian exchanged a glance with Dalziel. “It sounds like Trentham has brought reinforcements.”

Returning to the study door, Christian unlocked and opened it-to admit three gentlemen. Tristan and two other large gentleman Letitia hadn’t previously met.

Christian and Dalziel knew them; they exchanged handshakes and greetings, then Tristan brought the newcomers to Letitia and Hermione, who had sidled up to stand beside her. Tristan shook both their hands, then waved to the gentlemen alongside him. “Lady Letitia Randall, Lady Hermione Vaux-Anthony Blake, Viscount Torrington-for his sins, another member of our club-and Jonathon, Lord Hendon, who escaped by being in a slightly different wing of the services.”

Anthony Blake grinned and elegantly bowed over Letitia’s hand, then Hermione’s. “Delighted to make your acquaintance, ladies.” The dancing light in his dark eyes suggested it truly was. “Please call me Tony.”

Lord Hendon smiled and shook first Hermione’s hand, making her blush furiously, and then Letitia’s. “A pleasure, ma’am. And please call me Jack-everyone does. I understand you’ve inherited a share of a trading company.”

“Apparently. Unfortunately we’ve yet to determine just what the company trades in.”

Tony glanced around. “Tristan said you had books…?”

Letitia looked across and confirmed that Christian had shut and relocked the study door. “Indeed.” Turning to the window frame, she depressed the catch for the secret door. “Come”-turning back to Tony and Jack, she waved beyond them to where Christian was swinging the secret door wide-“and we’ll show you.”

Jack and Tony were as amazed by the secret room as they’d all been, but they quickly got down to business when Christian showed them one of the ledgers.

“Just from this, it seems certain the Orient Trading Company, whoever they are, are a going concern-a business selling…what, we don’t yet know.” Jack looked up from the ledger. His gaze scanned the rows of packed shelves, taking in the enormity of the task they faced, then, jaw firming, he nodded. “We’ll need to get everything down-every box, every file, every ledger. We need to look for the account ledgers-money in, and money out. They could be in separate ledgers-from this one it looks like they will be-and there could well be more than one set of