His gaze fixed coolly on Franklin’s face and left the other man in no doubt as to what was about to be discussed. It was likely that neither looked forward to the conversation, and Franklin sighed as he followed the Duke’s example and took his seat.
“My congratulations upon your marriage, your Grace. You’re probably wondering…” he began.
The Duke held up his hand. “Let me say one thing right now, Franklin. You have never given me cause to doubt your integrity or your commitment to the successful managing of the Maidenbrooke financial matters that lie within your purview. So I’m not here to berate you. I am here to find out what you know about the situation in the north and if there could be any connections at all between those circumstances and what we have in the way of investments.”
Hiding his sigh of relief, Franklin reached for a set of books that occupied one side of his desk.
“Here are the Maidenbrooke accounts, your Grace. I’ve been through them most scrupulously since the first hint of that damned rumour reached my ears.” He frowned at the ledgers. “I’ve been through them twice, actually. And each time I’ve found nothing that would indicate any involvement with any enterprise that might be of a dubious nature. Your charitable contributions are scrupulously administered and categorized. Absolutely none of your investments are linked in any way with the reform movement, if you want to call it that.”
The Duke nodded. “That was my belief as well. So I’m happy to hear you verify my conclusions.” He leaned back in his chair. “But that leaves us—or at least me—with one very large problem. How did this rumour start, and how has it developed sufficiently to become a genuine threat to my name?”
Once again, Franklin was struck by the cool and penetrating gaze of this aristocrat, and the intelligence lurking behind it. He was no dilettante frittering away his fortune at the card tables. Nor was he a pedantic scholar, immersing himself in ancient tomes. He was sober, well-informed and determined. All traits that Franklin had admired in their first meeting close to a decade ago. There’d been nothing since to change his mind, and today’s conversation merely confirmed that the Duke was still in possession of all his faculties and God help whoever had put him in this uncomfortable position.
On a deep breath, Franklin folded his hands in front of him. “Rumours can grow from tiny whispers, your Grace. I don’t need to tell you how they develop once they’re interesting enough to be repeated. And embellished.”
A nod was the only response.
“As for the starting point for this particular rumour…well, we’ve given that some thought as well.” He unfolded his hands and gestured to some notes next to the ledgers. “I sent out a few messages as soon as this matter broke. The actual situation in the north is deteriorating, with ever louder calls for political reform. There are reports of so many people barely surviving; starvation is not uncommon, and with the price of bread continually increasing, one can only assume that things are going to get even worse.”
“And there isn’t anybody to speak for them, is there?” mused the Duke. “They have no recourse at all. It must be…well, to say frustrating is to understate matters considerably.”
“It’s a complex situation, your Grace,” answered Franklin carefully. “And there are many traditionalists who are, shall we say, less than willing to see the old laws changed.”
“In a way that would not benefit them,” added Maidenbrooke dryly.
“Quite.”
“So the old guard Magistrates keep their pockets lined, while the workers starve, and the scarcity of any kind of political representation leaves a large portion of the populace helpless.”
“As I understand it, yes.”
“And yet somehow funds from a Maidenbrooke account have been alleged to be supporting this reform movement which is starting to sound like a rebellion of sorts.”
“That’s what I heard,” answered Franklin.
Silence fell for a few moments while both men thought over the matter.
“Well,” said the Duke, rising from his chair. “I see no other alternative.”
“Your Grace?” Franklin stood, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.
“I shall have to go north.”
Franklin’s jaw dropped and hadn’t risen until well after the Duke had nodded and left the room.
*~~*~~*
“You’re what?”
The exclamation was not quite a shriek, but Ivy knew it was probably closer than it should be. She glared at her husband across the dinner table.
“I’m going to have to travel north. I’ve made arrangements to leave tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She snapped her mouth shut. Then opened it again. “This is all about the rumours?”
Colly nodded. “Franklin is as puzzled as I am. And we both agree there’s nothing in the way of any kind of connection between the Maidenbrooke estates and investments, and any uprising. So something is going on up there that involves my name. It’s up to me to take care of it.”
“Can’t you send an agent? Wouldn’t your Mr Franklin go?” She fought to keep her voice steady.
“Under normal circumstances, yes. But this is a matter of my personal reputation, Ivy. I need to find whoever is talking, look them in the eye and make them tell me why.”
She fell silent, understanding his perspective, and seeing an expression on his face that did not bode well for whoever was behind the whispers.
“Very well,” she said finally, touching her napkin to her lips. “I’ll have Barnes pack for me, and I’ll be ready to leave when you are.”
“Er, no.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why not? We’ve been married barely more than a day. What would it say about our status if you go haring off to northern parts, leaving your brand-new bride
