Amanda Quick: Wait Until Midnight

"No" Adam carried his plate back to the table and sat down. "But it would appear to be the most logical explanation, given the timing and circumstances."

"Well, then, if you are right, whoever now possesses the diary will no doubt soon be in touch."

"I prefer not to sit and wait for the killer to send a message inviting me to pay blackmail." Adam dug into his eggs. "I intend to find him first."

Wilson drank some coffee and lowered the cup. "Did you learn anything useful in the course of your inquiries last night and this morning?"

"No. The only halfway promising suspect proved to be an exceedingly difficult and unpredictable female who thinks t hat 1 am an ideal model for a villain in a sensation novel." "How odd." Wilson's pale gray eyes lit with interest. "Tell me about her."

Trust Wilson to seize upon the one aspect of the business that he least wished to discuss, Adam thought. He buttered some toast while he considered his response.

"There isn't much to tell," he said. "I am convinced that the lady in question is not involved in this affair."

Wilson leaned back in his chair. "This is not the first time that you and I have had occasion to discuss murder and potentially dangerous documents at breakfast."

"What we have done in the past along those lines were matters of business," Adam said shortly.

"Nevertheless, this is the first time in the long history of our association that you have mentioned a conversation with an exceedingly difficult and unpredictable female who found you to be a perfect model for a villain in a novel. Forgive me, but I find that quite intriguing"

Adam munched on his toast. "I told you, I do not think that the lady has any connection to this affair of the diary."

"She obviously made an impression on you."

"She would make an impression on anyone."

"You know what the French say: cherchez la femme."

"This is England, not France." Adam put down the corner of toast and went back to the eggs. "Things are different here."

"Not always. I cannot help but notice that the lady appears to have had a very striking effect upon your mood, most notably your temper."

Wilson knew him far too well, Adam reflected.

"I would remind you that I have not slept in the past

twenty-four hours," he said evenly. "It is little wonder that

f am not in the best of tempers."

"On the contrary," Wilson said. "In my experience, the more there is at risk, the more cold-blooded and unemotional you become. Quite chilling, actually."

Adam gave him a look.

Wilson ignored him. "In fact, if one did not know you well, one might assume that you did not possess any of the warmer passions."

A tingle of alarm went through Adam. The fork in his hand paused in midair. "With all due respect, sir, the very last subject I wish to discuss this morning is what you are pleased to call the warmer passions."

"Now, Adam, I am well aware that you do possess those sorts of passions. All the more reason why you should get married and employ them to produce heirs for the Grendon-Hardesty fortunes."

"You have no shortage of heirs, sir. Julia has already married and provided you with two of them. Jessica will be making her debut into Society next spring. She will no doubt attract dozens of offers within a fortnight. When she marries, she will supply you with still more heirs. And do not forget Nathan. Sooner or later he will lose interest in his philosophy and mathematics long enough to fall in love, marry and produce even more heirs."

—That still leaves you unaccounted for," Wilson pointed out. "You are the eldest of the lot. You should have been the first one to marry"

"It is absurd to sit here and discuss yet again my failure to find a wife when we should be occupied with a far more pressing problem," Adam said, hanging on to his temper with an effort. "I suggest we return to the matter of the diary."

'Wilson grimaced. "Very well, but I must tell you that I am not nearly as concerned about it as you are"

"Yes, I can see that. Would you mind explaining why in blazes you are not worried about it?"

"The diary's sole value lies in the fact that it can be used as an instrument of blackmail. Sooner or later, whoever stole it from Elizabeth Delmont will make contact and at-tempt to extort money from you, just as Delmont did. When t hat occurs, you will track down the new blackmailer, just as you did Delmont" Wilson raised one narrow shoulder in a dismissive shrug. "It is simply a matter of time."

Wilson 's logic was impeccable, as always, Adam thought. But he was unable to take a similarly sanguine approach to the problem.

"It is not in my nature to wait upon the convenience of a blackmailer who is also very likely a killer," he said quietly.

Wilson sighed. "No, of course not. Very well, find your blackmailer and deal with him. Then you can get back to more important matters"

There was only one really important matter in Wilson's opinion these days. He was determined to see Adam wed. Having made his decision, he had become relentless.

Adam felt the sort of affection, respect and loyalty for his mentor that he imagined other men felt toward their fathers. Nevertheless, he had no intention of marrying merely to satisfy Wilson Grendons demands.

Wilson Grendon was in the latter half of his sixth decade. He was the last direct descendent of a once-powerful aristocratic family whose properties and finances had been sadly depleted by a long line of wastrels and rakehells. Endowed with a steely will and a great talent for business, Wilson had devoted himself to rebuilding the family for-tunes. He had succeeded beyond anyone's wildest expectations only to lose the very reasons that had inspired him: his beloved wife and two children.

Brokenhearted, Wilson had devoted himself to building an even larger empire. He had lost himself in the arcane machinations of his far-flung enterprises in England and on the Continent. On several occasions over the years, the long-reaching tentacles of the Grendon empire had proved useful to Her Majesty's government.

Wilson's agents and employees abroad often picked up rumors and information concerning clandestine intrigues and foreign plots. That sort of thing was passed along to the Crown, which, in turn, sometimes took advantage of the Grendon connections to send secret diplomatic messages.

The informal arrangement had continued after Adam had become involved in Wilson's business affairs, hence the occasional breakfast conversation concerning murder and mischief. For Adam, it all came under the heading of business; a natural extension of the career he had pursued while making his living on the streets. Information was a commodity, just like everything else. It could be bought, stolen, traded or sold.

Much in his world had changed fourteen years ago when he and Julia and Jessica and Nathan had moved into Wilson's big, lonely mansion in Laxton Square, but the way he made his living was not one of them, he reflected.

Society was under the impression that he and the other three were long-lost relatives of Wilson's. According to the story Grendon had put about, the family connection had been fortuitously discovered by his solicitor while going through some old papers. Wilson had immediately located the four young people, taken them into his household and made them his heirs.

Some portions of the tale were certainly true, Adam mused. He and Julia and Jessica and Nathan were, indeed, Wilson's heirs. But the relationship between the five of them was a good deal more murky and convoluted than anyone in the Polite World imagined.

While he had turned over much of the day-to-day operations of his financial empire to Adam in the past few years, Wilson was still as astute and cunning as he had always been. Because he was no longer required to apply his considerable abilities to his business affairs, he had a great deal of free time to work on other projects, such as maneuvering Adam into marriage.