Laura Martin - An Earl To Save Her Reputation

‘I will leave you to continue your walk,’ Mrs Henderson said, ‘without the interruptions of a nosy old lady.’

‘It is always a pleasure, Mrs Henderson.’

‘The entirety of London society will know we have been out walking together by the end of the evening,’ Lady Fortescue said with a shake of her head, following Mrs Henderson’s departure with her solemn grey eyes. ‘I don’t understand why people are so interested in the lives of others.’

‘Boredom and human nature,’ Harry said with a shrug. Gently he guided Lady Fortescue over to a bench situated just in front of a small pond. ‘Let me help you.’

‘How? Why?’

‘You’re not very trusting.’ It was said in jest, but he felt his companion stiffen next to him. ‘Let me help you get to the bottom of who is sending you those packages, who is threatening you,’ he ploughed on quickly.

‘I’m sure you have much better things to be doing with your time.’

‘Give me six weeks. If I haven’t found out who is behind the threats by then, I will admit defeat.’

Six weeks should be plenty of time to find the culprit. Harry had spent five years in the army and, although he had fought in his share of skirmishes, most of the time he had been deployed to gather information, to blend in with the locals and uncover any plots and plans. Those were skills you never lost once acquired and it had been a while since Harry had been given a challenge like this.

‘Why would you?’ Lady Fortescue asked, turning those searching grey eyes on Harry and making him feel as though she were staring past his face and into his mind.

‘No one should have to live in fear. No one should have to endure what you are enduring every single day.’

There was more to it than that, but Harry couldn’t tell Lady Fortescue he’d seen the same desperate expression she’d had on her face when the package had arrived before. That in the weeks after his sister had been humiliated and shamed he’d seen that emptiness , that desperation. He had failed Lydia in her time of need and the results had been almost fatal—he would not let another woman suffer alone.

‘Let me consider the idea,’ she said.

‘Shall I call on you tomorrow?’

‘I have some business to conduct in the morning, but perhaps you would care to dine with us at lunchtime.’

‘Perfect. I will look forward to it.’

Instinctively he raised her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over the knuckles. Although she concealed it well, Harry sensed her discomfort at even this most innocent of contact. Moving away, he wondered just what had happened to Lady Fortescue to make her so averse to human touch.

Chapter Four

‘There’s been a problem, ma’am,’ Billy Godden said as he rapped on the door and strode into the office, his face grim.

‘Tell me, Billy.’

‘Reports of a storm off the coast of Portugal. The Tildenhall Shipping Company have lost three ships, the London Shipping Company two and there are rumours many more have gone down.’

Anna closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to digest this newest disaster that had befallen the company since she had taken over managing it.

‘Both the Lady Magdalene and the Norfolk were scheduled to be sailing along the coast of Portugal.’ Anna stood and crossed to the shelving unit on the opposite wall, running her fingers along the handwritten labels until she came to the correct one. Quickly she pulled out a large map, unrolled it and laid it on her desk. ‘Where did the storm hit?’

Billy took his time, consulting a small notebook and tracing his fingers over the map before pointing out an area just to the south of the city of Porto.

Trying to keep calm, Anna opened the ledgers that contained the details of the routes and cargos of the two ships.

‘If on schedule, the Norfolk should be out of danger—it is due to round the Cabo de Roca tomorrow.’

‘And the Lady Magdalene ?’

Tracing the predicted route with her finger, Anna grimaced.

‘There have been no sightings?’ she asked. ‘No reports of it docking in Lisbon for repairs?’ she asked hopefully.

‘Nothing, ma’am.’

Resisting the urge to sink to the floor in despair, Anna rolled up the map and then focused on the details in the ledger. Twenty-four sailors were aboard the Lady Magdalene— she just hoped they were unharmed.

‘Send out messages to anyone who might have information and see if you can persuade one of your men they might like a trip to Portugal to investigate if there are no sightings within the week. I will deal with the clients.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Once she was alone Anna allowed her body to sag. The loss of a ship was devastating for any shipping company, but many of the larger outfits could withstand one loss here and there. The Trevels Shipping Company was still in its infancy. After the death of Lord Fortescue, the only thing his children had not contested was her ownership of the small shipping company her second husband had owned and run into the ground. When Anna had revived it she’d barely hoped that they would survive a year, but slowly they were emerging from the piles of debts and starting to make a small and hard-won profit. A disaster like this could cripple them.

Straightening up, Anna closed the ledger. She would not overreact. As yet there was no evidence the Lady Magdalene had sunk. The captain was experienced and knew how to handle a ship in a storm, and the ship itself was one of their newer vessels.

With a glance at the clock that hung above the fireplace Anna grimaced. Already she was late for lunch and now she had to compile a list of the clients whose goods were aboard the Lady Magdalene and decide when to contact them. Quickly she scribbled a note, explaining the delay to her uncle. Uncle Phillip had never tried to control her movements, never quibbled when she was called out to attend to business or missed the odd meal here or there, but he did worry if she didn’t inform him that she would be delayed. The office for the shipping company was situated in the docks, not the most salubrious of areas, and although Anna had become used to most of the more colourful characters, she still ensured she never walked alone outside the office.

‘Lady Fortescue, hard at work as usual, I see.’ A large man burst through the door without knocking.

Anna forced a smile. Roger Maltravers ran the biggest and most profitable shipping company in London and had his office situated on the other side of the docks, the more prosperous side, but that didn’t stop his frequent visits to the offices of the Trevels Shipping Company.

‘I’ve said it a thousand times and I’ll say it again, not proper work for a woman, this shipping business. And certainly not one as lovely as you.’ As he spoke he wandered around the office, fingering charts and ledgers, peering at the maps on the walls.

Anna clenched her teeth together to try to hide her irritation. It wasn’t that she disliked Roger Maltravers, but she didn’t particularly like him either. He was too effusive, too sure of himself, and ever since her company had started to have a modicum of success he’d been trying to persuade her to join her company with his.

‘Awful storm off Portugal, I hear,’ he said casually.

‘So I am told,’ Anna said, wondering if he didn’t notice the coolness in her voice or if he just ignored it.

‘Could be devastating if you lost one of your ships.’

‘We have insurance.’

‘Crafty scoundrels, you’ll never see a penny back.’ He paused and Anna knew what was coming next. It was the same every week, had been for the past six months. ‘You wouldn’t have to worry your pretty head about issues like this if you married me. I would look after you.’