Chapter Twenty-Six

In his study, Raven, comfortable in his leather chair, worked on the ledgers strewn across his desk.

Prince Nicholas stood in front of the open door. “May I speak to you?”

Raven nodded. Prince Nicholas entered and closed the door behind him. With imperial majesty, Nicholas stood in front of his friend, adjusted his cuff, and asked, “What is wrong?” Raven motioned to a seat with his ruffled wrist then sat back and allowed the silence to speak for itself.

“You can’t suspect I would divulge any information. I’m the soul of discretion in financial matters. Why would I want to hurt my family’s investment? Ours is a double amount for a total of £100,000 British Sterling.” He removed a speck of lint from his textured jacket and flicked it away.

From the expression on Prince Nicholas’s face, Raven knew his continued silence distressed the royal. He held his gaze to Nicholas’. “Why didn’t you bring Lady Ivana with you? She has always made it clear she enjoyed Ravensmere. Have you two concluded your relationship?”

“Why have you changed the subject, Raven? What business is it of yours if we have?”

“I haven’t changed the subject. I have encouraged you to change your focus. Spurned women don’t think with any rationale. If Ivana knew of the cartel, through you, and because her future appeared insecure, she could have passed along the information to someone who would pay well for it. I’m convinced it is a woman who has done this.”

Raven arose from the chair and turned squarely to face the Prince. “I haven’t been able to determine possible explanations. There is no doubt in my mind that someone has held up the application for the charter. The document is required to list the investors. So whoever is the mastermind of this plot knows all of us have made a sizeable contribution.”

“Ivana would never do any such thing. We have these quarrels all the time. The truth is, though, she bores me and so I came alone.”

“Highness, from a hypothetical point of view, if Ivana knew you were bored and that you intended to leave her because you found someone else who interested you more, would she be angry enough to the point of retribution? Women act from emotions, not logic.”

Prince Nicholas’s forehead wrinkled in thought over the allegation and he shook his head. “She was never privy to any information. It’s a practice of mine not to discuss these things with my mistresses. True, I did transfer money to my London bank, but I handled the transactions through my intermediary in Moscow. She might have seen the withdrawal voucher, but she would not know what it represented.”

“Allow me another hypothetical question, Nicholas. The folders you received for yourself and Sergei, where would you keep them? Perhaps in your desk drawer in your study or your safe? Or perhaps you’d place the papers on a table in your bedroom?”

“Raven, tread carefully. I resent your insinuations. If I have to mistrust everyone who interacts with me, there would be a legion of suspects.” He shook his head and affirmed. “No, it’s not Ivana.”

Raven explained again his intent didn’t involve accusations, but he needed to make sense of how and why the information gained wings and spread before the charter could be approved. He informed his Highness that the head of the current Gas Light Company, Henry Preston, had neither ethics nor conscience. “He is in league with the devil,” Raven stated in somberness. “Think, Nicholas, who else would want to sabotage our venture?”

“Perhaps the oil lamp conglomerate? I heard a rumor that an agreement of sorts became necessary. Did you know this?” Prince Nicholas twirled the edge of his mustache upward, and it appeared his mind raced ahead of his words.

“Who else are the investors in the current gas light company?” asked Raven. He pondered and walked back to his desk to make copious notes of things he would have to do.

“I’m not sure, Raven. You could make discreet inquiries. You are, after all, a prominent Member of Parliament.”

Raven nodded. He did have an outline in his head where and who would start the first inquiry.

“I do not mean to exchange allegations here, but is your Lady Samantha involved in the cartel through her brother? Could she have spoken to someone?”

Raven sat at his leathered desk and tented the fingers of both hands and frowned. “The thought occurred to me, Nicholas. Everyone is suspect. I’m not aware if she supplied funds to her brother. I made it clear I didn’t want to know. This is a close-knit family issue.” He asked Prince Nicholas, “What do you know about Lord Roger Dudley?”

“Other than the fact that he is a flawed womanizer—not too much. He is always in need of money, though. His debts inundate him, and he seeks a wife with a generous dowry.”

Raven thought this could have been Dudley’s attraction to Samantha and the bid on her picnic lunch. He would obtain a beautiful, spirited woman and a significant amount of money for the man to squander.

“Have you asked for a particular reason, Raven?” They now were at ease with one another again.

“I believe he has an attraction to Samantha, and she would fit his qualifications. That is all. He is aware of my affection for the family and while he might seek information, Samantha would never hurt her brother in any way. I’m sure she is involved in the cartel through her brother.” Raven attempted indifference.

“I think you are much attracted to this lady,” Prince Nicholas stated in a less jocular tone.

“I believe you’re right,” answered Raven. He again wanted to change the focus of the conversation, and asked, “Will Sergei join you here, Highness?”

“He will send me word, Raven. I doubt it, though.” The Prince sighed in exasperation. “He ignored my advice and took a new mistress, Lady Sofia. Pretty, but greedy. She is much older than he, and Sergei is tired of her already. They have been together four short months.”

Prince Nicholas further explained that Sergei’s youth and inexperience caused great consternation and he mentioned that though they were well off, their finances were not inexhaustible. “Sergei is convinced there is an endless flow. Such an impetuous youth does not understand political ramifications, nor does he want to hear about them.”

Prince Nicholas laughed. “Da, Yes. He feels he is a Russian stud available to entertain and entice the women of England.”

Raven smiled and remembered he never knew youthful experiences. With his father’s untimely death at the age of nineteen, for him, study and prepare, became his motto. He envied his brothers’ freedom to do as they pleased.

“What do you know about the Earl of Ballantyne?” asked Prince Nicholas, who now changed the subject.

“They have been friends of the family for decades. They are above reproach.”

“We will soon run out of suspects,” commented Prince Nicholas.

“Maybe we look in the wrong direction.” Raven raised his right hand to his temple and worked his fingers in circles to ease his pounding temples. “Maybe the person is so obvious we can’t see through the deceit.” His thoughts became interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Enter,” he instructed.

Randall’s face held a serious look. “Your Grace, forgive the interruption, but there is a message for you from the Prime Minister.”

He heard the specified alert phrase. Raven excused himself from the Prince, and his majordomo followed him to the empty drawing room.

“What is it?” he asked his man.

“You indicated you wanted to know anything and everything no matter how unrelated it appeared.” He handed him a business card on which Lord Dudley’s name appeared.

“Where did you get this?” Raven’s mind raced.

“The valet found it in Lord Winston’s breast pocket. He brushed the garment clean and felt something. He gave it to me. That is all I know.” As an afterthought, he said, “Is this important, Your Grace?”

“Yes. I will keep the card for a few hours.”

Raven returned to his study. The Prince asked, “Since when does the Prime Minister communicate with you at Ravensmere?”

“Since he found the necessity to do so. It’s a small matter not related to the cartel.” Raven could not trust anyone until he could be sure. “By the way, Highness, do you have any new members of your entourage who are inquisitive about my guests or me?”

“So you think persons might be employed to spy on me or us?” He arose and turned to pace the marble floor. “I don’t handle the acquisition of people. I have so many, but will set about finding more information, Da. Yes.”

He sighed loudly and murmured, “This is exhaustive. Political intrigues are a bore, Raven. Then I shall retire and give instructions to my trusted aides. If there is anything else, I will let you know, my friend.”

****

Samantha reviewed the social events posted in the drawing room. Breakfast was an informal buffet. The men had already left on a tour of the estate with Raven and the estate manager.

After eating, the ladies busied themselves in a tour of the gardens. Samantha encountered the gardener and asked about the crimsoned roses. His reply didn’t surprise her. “The Duchess had a fondness for red roses. This flower is a hybrid developed and named in her honor. It won first prize at the National Flower Show because of its rich color and strong scent,” he said with obvious pride and continued to prune the roses. “We plant no other type rose, m’lady.”

“She must have been a unique woman,” Samantha whispered.

For once, Lady Minerva, who strolled with her, was at a loss for words of comfort to her niece. “Samantha, you will have to come to terms with this grand love Raven bore for his late wife.”

“It seems everywhere we turn, there is homage to her memory. I grow weary of it, Aunt Min. I’m jealous of a dead woman and her husband’s love. Would that he could espouse one tenth of that love for me,” she said in soulful sadness when she gazed upon the profusion of scarlet roses everywhere.

She walked to a bush and motioned to the under-gardener who cut a full bloomed rose and handed it to her. Samantha smiled and thanked him.

“How do you know he does not—or could not—feel as strong an emotion for you?” Lady Minerva asked during their leisurely walk farther along the path.

“I believe he has a strong physical inclination toward me, but about his emotions, he’s not let go of his memories. This manor house and grounds are a shrine to his late wife. Aunt Min, he did refurbish my quarters with me in mind, didn’t he? Though she loved astrology, too. I’m afraid it’s not me he sees and admires. How do I survive in the shadow of such an unforgettable love?” All the sunshine left her face when she dropped the rose to the ground and crushed it under her foot.

“You pride yourself on your strength of character, and yet you allow yourself to wallow in pity and self-doubt. It’s a credit to Raven that he held on to the love of her for so long. Patience is not a virtue you possess.”

Lady Minerva went on to say, “If you’ve waited this long time for your special love, a little while longer will not hurt either of you. Help him and continue to show him who you are. You caught his interest in the first place. Remember he did give up his mistress because of you. We have but a few days left before we leave. Make the most of it. He will come around. You’ll see, but don’t give up. That would be surrender.”

“Wise counsel I know, dear Aunt Min, but when I see that picture gone from the drawing room mantel, I will know he has buried the past at last.”