Ben’s younger brother dropped into a leather chair in front of Ben’s desk without waiting for an invitation. Since Ben had already overlooked Daniel’s unscheduled arrival at his Cavendish Square town house—not to mention his brother barging into his study unannounced and helping himself to a brandy—he held his tongue. Complaining would prove a waste of time, for Daniel rarely worried about inconveniencing anyone. And his brother’s sudden appearance now was damned inconvenient.
Ben checked the mantel clock and sighed, replacing his quill and abandoning his ledger. His next appointment would arrive in a quarter hour, and he didn’t need his brother bumping into Mr. Armstrong and Viscount Margrave on his way out. There wasn’t much time to get to the heart of the matter, then send his brother home.
Daniel scowled at the contents in his glass; his ankle was propped across his knee. Only one thing could bring about a surly mood like this: a problem with Hillary Shipping. What could it be this time? A squeaky hinge on the shipping office door? A loose shingle on the roof? Ben had never met a more obsessive man, and although Daniel’s fastidiousness had helped to make their joint shipping company successful, it could become tedious.
Ben drummed his fingers against his cherry wood desk. “Tell me the bad news, so we can sort through it. Quickly.”
With only thirteen months separating them, the two had been figuring things out together since they were both old enough to walk and talk.
“I don’t think we will be sorting this one. Lisette has charged me with inviting you to dine with us this week. She is planning a small dinner party tomorrow evening.”
“Egads!” Ben chuckled.
His brother was correct. There would be no escaping this one, although Ben didn’t greet the invitation with the same dread Daniel would have if the situation were reversed. Ben liked Lisette and her kin, and socializing had never been the same hardship to him that it was for his brother. Daniel abhorred playing the gentleman, preferring the simple life of a seaman, but he was a husband now. And his willingness to play host at his wife’s behest was a testament to how much he loved Lisette.
“You may tell your wife I accept.”
“Very good.” Daniel seemed to have no control over his jiggling foot. “Family is to arrive an hour before dinner. She wants to see everyone before we retire to Brighton for the winter.”
If his brother couldn’t live on the sea, he could at least be close enough to enjoy the salty breeze and never-ending crash of waves on the shore. Their father’s Brighton house would be the only property to suit Daniel for a long stay.
“I see.” Ben tried to control the twitching of his lips. “A tiny sailor is on the way, aye?”
“How did—?” Daniel’s gaze snapped up, his blue eyes dancing with undisguised pleasure. He laughed. “I swear to God, if you speak a word to anyone, I will break your nose. No ruining her surprise.”
Ben laughed too as he pushed away from the desk to come around to congratulate his brother. “I would not dream of stealing her thunder. Congratulations. Fatherhood suits you, I think.”
Daniel had been a father figure to Lisette’s younger brother for some time, so he’d already gotten a taste of what the job entailed. Daniel rose to accept his hearty handshake before they gathered each other in a rough hug. They were still pounding on each other’s shoulders when Ben’s man of business appeared in the doorway.
Mr. Davis adjusted his spectacles and cleared his throat. Ben bid him to come in. “Pardon the interruption, sir, but Lord Margrave has arrived with Mr. Armstrong.”
Daniel’s eyebrows shot up. “Harvey Armstrong, the Bow Street Runner? Why do you require the services of an investigator?”
So much for no one outside of his trusted staff knowing his business.
Ben inclined his head toward his man. “Allow me a few moments with my brother, then you may show them in.”
“Yes, sir.”
After the outing to the foundling hospital, Ben felt defeated. Eve was marrying another man, and he could do nothing about it. How could she possibly know enough about Sir Jonathan Hackberry to know she wanted to marry him? He’d only been courting her a few weeks. And then Ben had gotten an idea, one he didn’t want his brother knowing about. Moving to pour himself a drink, he tried to deflect his brother’s questions. “How is it you are familiar with Mr. Armstrong?”
“I hired him to locate a missing person. Lisette’s cousin, Xavier Vistorie.”
Ben swung back around, his interest piqued. “And did the man find him?”
“Hell no. It’s as if the earth opened up and swallowed Vistorie whole. Odd business, that.”
“Oh.” That didn’t inspire confidence. Ben wandered back to his desk and perched on the edge. “How difficult could it be to uncover a bloody American in Mayfair? He would be as conspicuous as a boar dressed in Sunday best.”
Daniel smirked. “Are you referring to Vicar Dowden?”
“And everyone says you are not clever,” Ben drawled. “Tell me, do you think Armstrong is a competent sort, or have I wasted my money?”
“Assuming you haven’t misplaced a person, it should be money well spent. I hired Armstrong because of his reputation for getting results.” Daniel sipped his drink. “Nice attempt to distract me, but I haven’t forgotten my original question. Why do you need an investigator, and how did you hear of him?”
Heat crept into Ben’s face. It was none of his brother’s concern, but Daniel wouldn’t cease his badgering until he got an answer. “Margrave recommended him. If you wish to know of my dealings with Armstrong, you are welcome to stay. It could be a long interview, however, so if you have other matters requiring your attention—”
“Very well.” Daniel sank back in the chair with a sly smile.
Damn! Ben had been certain his brother would lose interest if it meant sitting through an interview. Daniel was a restless man and not one to voluntarily sit still.
“Splendid,” Ben grumbled as his office door swung open and Margrave appeared with Mr. Armstrong in his wake.
While Ben’s old chum ambled in without an invitation and made his way to the sideboard to pour a drink, the investigator halted at the threshold.
“Come in, Mr. Armstrong,” Ben said. “Have a seat.”
The man moved with efficiency and assurance, nodded an acknowledgment to Daniel, and sat in the twin chair in front of Ben’s desk. There was nothing extraordinary in the investigator’s appearance. He wore a functional gray coat, trousers, and beat-up black boots. Mr. Armstrong looked like any man one might pass in the street, which likely accounted for his vaunted reputation as one of the best. And yet he couldn’t find the American?
Margrave returned with a drink in hand and positioned himself behind Armstrong’s chair.
Ben launched into the reason for the investigator’s visit. It seemed wisest to get it behind him, like diving into a cold lake without stopping to consider how uncomfortable it would be. “What have you learned?”
Armstrong pulled a paper square from his jacket pocket and unfolded it. “As requested, an accounting of Sir Jonathan Hackberry’s activities over the past twenty-four hours.”
Daniel uncrossed his leg, his boot landing on the wooden floor with a thump. “You had Miss Thorne’s betrothed followed?”
Ben ignored him, easing forward to catch every word, and motioned Armstrong to continue. He detected the hint of a smirk on Margrave’s face.
“At one o’clock yesterday, Hackberry left his town house en route to the lending library where he spent two hours and thirty-five minutes browsing. He purchased two books: one on Ancient Egypt and Travels to Discover the Source of the Nile, In the Years 1768, 1769, 1770, 1771, 1772, and 1773, volume two. After his departure from the lending library, he visited the hatter to commission a top hat, but he couldn’t decide between black and dark gray. When the shopkeeper suggested he choose both, Hackberry said perhaps he would make a decision after he thought on it a day. Next he made a visit to the glove maker, where he debated the merits of two pairs of riding gloves versus three. From there—”
“Argh!” Daniel groaned loudly and dropped his head back on the seat.
Ben chuckled. “Is there a less boring account of the man’s comings and goings? For my brother’s sake, of course.” Although, in truth, Ben wasn’t any more interested in Hackberry’s shopping excursion than his brother was.
Armstrong’s eyebrow twitched, but otherwise his stony expression wasn’t altered. “No, sir.”
“No?” Ben pushed from the desk to pace a few steps, then turned to point. “No, as in you are disinclined to deliver your report with more flair, or Hackberry’s activities remain mundane and uninteresting?”
“Both statements are correct, sir.”
That can’t be. Every man had his secrets, a touch of darkness lurking inside. Ben held out his hand for the paper, then wiggled his fingers impatiently when the investigator didn’t comply at once. “Let me see. Surely Hackberry cannot be that pedestrian.”
Margrave shrugged one shoulder when Ben looked to him to support his assertion. “I’m not acquainted with the man.”
Armstrong passed him the paper and sat stiff-backed on the chair. “I am afraid you are mistaken about the gentleman’s tediousness, Mr. Hillary.”
Ben read the list aloud. “The printer, reading room in Bloomsbury—” He dropped his arm to his side. “What does this mean? Hackberry went missing for an hour?”
The investigator shrugged. “Sir Jonathan took a wrong turn and accidentally locked himself in the museum storage room. When he was discovered among the cataloged exhibits, he stuttered an apology and bumped into a miniature porcelain bowl that shattered on the floor.”
Daniel laughed and shook his head before downing his drink.
“I am certain the museum librarian was not amused,” Ben said by way of scolding his brother.
“He was not,” Armstrong confirmed. “Nevertheless, the bowl was of no value, so Sir Jonathan was only escorted from the premises by two porters instead of being taken into custody.”
“Egads.” Ben thrust the list back at Armstrong. There was nothing remotely debauched in his report. Hackberry had even retired early on the day in question. “You may go. Mr. Davis will see to your fee on your way out.”
“Yes, sir.” The man tucked the paper back into his pocket and left as somberly as he’d arrived.
“Well, that was disappointing,” Margrave said and lowered his lean frame into the vacant chair next to Daniel.
Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ,” he said on a breath. What had Eve been thinking when she accepted Hackberry’s proposal? Surely she realized she was betrothed to a dolt. As his wife, either she would die of boredom or chronic embarrassment.
“What are you doing, Ben?” Daniel asked. “Spying on Miss Thorne’s fiancé serves what purpose? She has made her choice.”
Ben squared his jaw and met his brother’s stare. “I intend to change her mind. You heard the investigator’s report. Hackberry is all wrong for Evie.”
“Is that so? And you were able to determine his suitability from a list of activities?”
“Yes. Yes, I was.” Ben circled his desk, dropped into his chair, and retrieved his quill to finish his recordings in the ledger. In his mind, the matter was settled. His brother and friend could see themselves out.
Daniel cleared his throat. Ben’s quill kept moving.
“Ahem!” Daniel stood and planted his hand in the middle of Ben’s page.
Gritting his teeth, Ben looked up at his brother looming in front of his desk.
“How?” Daniel’s eyes were wide with curiosity, no longer mocking him. “How do you know he is wrong for Miss Thorne?”
Ben dropped his quill on the desk. “For twenty-four hours there wasn’t a single activity listed that showed he thought of Miss Thorne once. No lingering over the bonnets at the milliner shop. No box of her favorite sweets. He didn’t even call on her, and he chose to retire early rather than escorting her to whatever event she attended.”
“Ah.” Daniel nodded, discarding his glass on Ben’s desk. “And a day is too long for any man to go without calling on his lady if the heart is involved.”
“Exactly, which is the reason Miss Thorne cannot marry Hackberry.” Ben pretended not to notice Margrave rolling his eyes.
Daniel said nothing for a moment, as if mulling over the situation. He crossed his arms and his scowl returned. “How are we planning to stop her?”
“We?”
“You know putting our heads together reaps the best results.”
Ben smiled. Perhaps Daniel was correct. His assistance could come in helpful. “First of all, Hackberry should be added to your wife’s guest list. Just Hackberry. What I have in mind requires privacy, and I wouldn’t want Evie catching wind of our conversation.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Margrave said with a grin. “No need for your lady wife to issue an invitation, Daniel. You may let her know I’m available.”
“She will be relieved, I am sure.”