As if offering a demonstration, Mr. Mayhew waved his arms before himself in wide, furious arcs and insisted he had been powerless. “It is in the bylaws, you see, in a section outlining how loans may be dispersed to intimates and acquaintances of partners in the firm. It was added by my grandfather who worried that the bonds of affection would influence the partners’ ability to make rational business decisions.”
Urgently, assertively, he launched into an account of the particulars of the clause, but neither Bea nor Kesgrave paid him any attention and slowly he trailed off.
“What objection could he have to lending Mr. Réjane money?” Bea said to the duke, her brows drawn in confusion. “If he intended to establish a new enterprise with the funds, who would deny him the opportunity? His renown was widespread and he had proved himself to royalty. Anything he created would be sure to succeed.”
The duke agreed that Mr. Réjane was a reliable investment but noted that the banker’s primary concern was not the acquisition of wealth.
Deeply offended, Mr. Mayhew cried out in protest, insisting that he assiduously pursued the acquisition of wealth to the exclusion of all other vices.
It was a bold statement but demonstrably wrong, and Bea chided the banker for his display of false modesty, for he had also managed to cultivate an excess of pride and envy.
Once again, Mr. Mayhew maintained a delighted expression on his face despite his true feelings, and Bea admired how well he kept himself in check. It could not be easy.
Aware he had given offense, Kesgrave apologized to the banker for causing him undue agitation. “It was never my intention to imply you are not avaricious. Please know that I am fully cognizant of your greed and find it quite unseemly. Have no worry on that score. I was merely drawing greater attention to your desire for prestige because it explains your unwillingness to even discuss the matter with Mr. Réjane. Had you not interrupted, I would have cited your excessive fawning and attempt to coerce the duchess’s assistance in moving my deposits to your establishment as evidence of your determination to attain a higher quality of client. You would never consent to loan money to a cook, no matter how talented he was or respected, because that is not the quality of client with whom you wish to associate. You are interested only in the nobility and would happily extend credit to a second son with no skills or competencies as long as he had something suitable to offer as collateral. Have I explained your outlook correctly, Mayhew, or would you like to add a few words in support of your fervent devotion to the aristocracy?”
Nothing Mr. Mayhew could have said in his own defense would better illustrate Kesgrave’s point than the way the banker bowed his head and congratulated the duke on his understanding of the situation. Then, his impressive control slipping just a little, he darted a spiteful look at Beatrice, as if to imply that these were precisely the sort of subtleties her inadequate female mind could not grasp.
“How did Mr. Réjane respond when you refused to discuss a loan?” she asked.
“Mr. Bayne refused,” he corrected.
Bea, whose patience had been greatly restored by Kesgrave’s cool display of temper, accepted the amendment with a genial smile. “Thank you, yes, how did Mr. Réjane respond when Mr. Bayne declined to meet with him and you refused to intercede on his behalf?”
“My hands were tied, which he understood,” Mr. Mayhew replied. “He was more upset about the quails. One or two were of questionable quality, and he was very distressed at the thought of serving them to my guests.”
That was a lie, Bea knew, for it directly contradicted his earlier statement regarding the birds, and recalling his apprehension about his servants’ propensity to gossip, she wondered aloud how Parsons would respond when questioned by the duke. “Will he say that Monsieur Alphonse grew heated because the butcher saddled him with a pair of substandard quails or would he relate a fierce argument about your refusal to provide him with a loan? What about Gertrude? Will she confirm that the quails were substandard? And your housekeeper as well? Are you quite sure the staff comprehend the true source of the chef’s displeasure?”
The banker, smiling stiffly, allowed for the possibility that one or two of the servants might have thought they heard Monsieur Alphonse directing his anger at him, not the quails. “I did not want to say this because I have so much respect for the chef, but he did not accept Mr. Bayne’s decision with any sense of equanimity. Indeed, he raged at me quite viciously. To be completely honest with you, I feared for my own safety.”
Patently, that was false, but it was delivered with sufficient distress, and Bea murmured sympathetically. “I am sure it was terrifying. You must have been relieved when he resigned his position on the spot.”
Mr. Mayhew was astonished by the statement.
Oh, yes, he was too taken aback by the information to do anything but stare at her in amazement. But he recalled himself quickly and affected mild disappointment at her credulity in believing the idle talk of servants. “For that is where you heard this canard, is it not, from the servants? They have no understanding of what they overheard. Monsieur Alphonse might have declared in a fit of pique he intended to leave my employ at once—truthfully, I cannot recall all that was said between us—but he was merely venting his spleen. I assure you he was far too satisfied in my employ to seek a position elsewhere. I allowed him every indulgence and paid him handsomely. He would get that nowhere else in London.”
He spoke confidently, assuredly, as if Mr. Réjane provided an esoteric or arcane service that he alone appreciated. It
