Castles (31 page)

Dreyson nodded. He waited until the princess had walked past him, then turned to Flannaghan. “Is Sir Hallbrook at home today?” he asked.

Flannaghan nodded. Dreyson looked relieved. “Would you mind getting him for me? I believe he'll want to hear this distressing news.”

The butler turned and hurried up the steps to see the task completed. Dreyson went inside the salon and sat down across from Alesandra.

“Your frown is very fierce,” she said. She folded her hands in her lap and smiled at the agent. “Could the news be that terrible, sir?”

“I've come with two bits of bad news,” Dreyson admitted. His voice sounded weary. “I'm sorry to have to bother you at all on your second day of marriage.” He let out a sigh before continuing. “My contact has just informed me a substantial amount of your funds—in fact, all of the funds in the account back home—won't be released, Princess. It seems a general named Ivan has cleverly found a way to confiscate the near fortune.”

Alesandra showed very little reaction to the news. She was mildly confused by his explanation. “I understood the money had already been transferred to the bank in Austria,” she said. “Is that not correct?”

“Yes, it was transferred,” Dreyson replied.

“General Ivan has no jurisdiction there.”

“His tentacles are far-reaching, Princess.”

“Has he actually taken the money out of the bank or frozen the account?”

“What difference does it make?”

“Please answer me and then I'll explain the reason behind my question.”

“It was frozen. The bank won't let Ivan touch the money, but the officers have been intimidated by the unethical man and won't release the funds to England's bank.”

“That is a dilemma,” Alesandra agreed.

“Dilemma? Princess, I would call it a disaster. Have you no idea how much money sits idle in that bank? Why, it's most of your fortune.”

Dreyson looked in jeopardy of weeping. She tried to soothe him. “I still have quite enough to live a comfortable life,” she reminded him. “Thanks to your sound investments, I'll never become a burden to anyone, least of all my husband. I am confused by this news, however. If the general believed I would marry him, why would he . . .”

“He knew you'd left the convent,” Dreyson explained. “And I imagine he knew you were running away from him. He's out to punish you, Princess, for defying him.”

“Revenge is always a nice motive.”

Colin made that announcement from the entrance. Both Alesandra and Dreyson turned to look at him. The agent stood up. Colin turned, closed the doors behind him, and then walked over to take his place on the settee next to Alesandra. He motioned to Dreyson to sit down again.

“There isn't anything nice about revenge, Colin,” Alesandra announced.

She turned her gaze back to the agent. “I believe I know how we might get the funds released. I shall write to Mother Superior and give her a note for the full amount. The bankers might very well be intimidated by the general, but they'll be quite terrified of the superior when she calls on them to collect. Oh, yes, I do believe that's just the ticket, Dreyson. Holy Cross needs the money. I don't.”

Colin shook his head. “Your father worked hard to build up his estate. I don't want you to give it away.”

“Why do I need it?” she countered.

Dreyson interjected the sum of money under discussion. Colin visibly blanched. Alesandra shrugged. “It will go to a worthy cause. My father would approve. Mother Superior and the other nuns took care of my mother while she was ill. They were very loving to her. Yes, father would approve. I'll write the letter and sign the note before you leave, Matthew.”

Alesandra turned back to her husband. He still didn't look pleased by her decision, and she was thankful he wasn't going to argue about it.

“About the ship, Princess,” Dreyson interjected. “They have agreed to your terms and arrival date.”

“What ship?” Colin asked.

Alesandra hastened to turn the topic. “You said there was another bit of bad news, Matthew. What was it?”

“First he's going to explain about the ship,” Colin insisted.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” she whispered.

“Alesandra?” Colin wouldn't be put off.

“When I was in your father's library, I happened to read about a wonderful new invention. It's called a steam vessel, Colin, and it can cross the Atlantic in just twenty-six days. Isn't that amazing,” she added in a rush. “Why, my letter to the mother superior will take at least three months to reach her, perhaps longer.”

Colin nodded. He was well aware of the new invention, of course. He and his partner had already discussed the possibility of purchasing one to add to their fleet. The cost was prohibitive, however, and the idea was put on hold.

“And you purchased one, is that it?” Colin's voice shook with anger. He didn't give his wife time to answer his question but turned his attention, and his scowl, to her agent. “Cancel the order,” he commanded.

“You cannot mean it,” Alesandra cried out, her distress apparent. She was suddenly so angry with Colin she wanted to kick him. The steam vessel would increase revenues considerably and he was just being stubborn because the money came from her inheritance.

“I do mean it,” he snapped. He was furious with her now because he had been quite explicit when he'd told her he wouldn't touch her money and she had blatantly disregarded his decision.

The set of his jaw told her he wasn't going to listen to reason. She was about to tell Dreyson to cancel the order when the agent intervened.

“I'm having trouble understanding,” he remarked. “Sir Hallbrook, are you telling me you're going to refuse her uncle Albert's wedding gift? I believe it is customary to receive gifts.”

“Who is Uncle Albert?”

Colin asked Alesandra that question. She didn't know what to do. If she told him the truth, that Albert didn't exist, Dreyson would be insulted. He would probably refuse to do further business with her, too, and she certainly didn't want to jeopardize that relationship.

She didn't want to lie to her husband either.

Truth won out. “He isn't my uncle,” she began.

Dreyson enthusiastically cut her off. “But he likes to believe he is,” he interjected. “He's a friend of the family. Why, I've known him for years,” he added as a boast. “And made a pretty profit from his investments, I might add. Albert handles some of your wife's funds, you see, and I believe he would be very offended if you didn't accept his gift.”

Colin's gaze stayed on Alesandra. Her expression didn't tell him anything. She looked very serene. Her hands told a different story, however. They were clenched tight in her lap. Something wasn't quite right, but Colin couldn't put his finger on what that might be.

“Why haven't you mentioned this uncle Albert to me? And why wasn't he invited to the wedding?”

She was going to have to lie after all. The truth wasn't going to do anyone any good.

Alesandra could also see the mother superior shaking her head with displeasure. She forced herself to block the image. She would have plenty of time to feel guilty later.

“I thought I had mentioned Albert to you,” she said. She looked at his chin while she gave that lie. “Albert wouldn't have come to the wedding. He never goes anywhere. He won't receive visitors either,” she added with a nod.

“He's a recluse, you see,” Dreyson interjected. “Alesandra's his only connection to the outside world. He doesn't have any family. Isn't that right, Princess? If your hesitation stems from the cost of his gift, rest assured. He can well afford it, Sir Hallbrook.”

“You've known this man for years?” Colin asked Dreyson.

“Yes, of course.”

Colin leaned back against the cushions. He knew he probably owed Alesandra an apology for jumping to the wrong conclusion. He decided he would get to that later, when they were alone.

“Convey my appreciation in your next letter,” Colin told Alesandra.

“Then you accept . . .”

She stopped her question when Colin shook his head. “It was thoughtful of him, but much too extravagant. I—or, rather, we—cannot accept it. Suggest something else to him.”

“Such as?”

Colin shrugged. “You'll think of something,” he told her. “What was the other matter you wished to discuss?”

Dreyson became agitated. He started to explain, then suddenly stopped. While he threaded his fingers through his thinning gray hair, he cleared his throat. Then he started again. “A delicate situation has developed,” he announced. “A nasty piece of business, I warn you.”

“Yes?” Colin urged when the broker didn't immediately continue.

“Is either of you familiar with the Life Assurance Act of 1774?”

He didn't give Colin or Alesandra time to answer. “No one pays much attention to the ruling these days. It was passed such a long time ago.”

“For what purpose?” Alesandra asked, wondering where in heaven's name this discussion was leading.

“A shameful practice was found out,” Dreyson explained. “There were immoral men who would insure a life and then hire out the murder so they could collect the profit. Yes, it's shameful, but true, Princess.”

“But what does this have—”

Colin interrupted her. “Give him time to explain, Alesandra.”

She nodded. “Yes, of course,” she whispered.

Dreyson turned his attention to Colin. “Not too many of the firms pay any attention to the Act anymore. It served its purpose, you see . . . for a time. However, it has just come to my attention that an insurance policy was taken out on your wife. The date was set at noon yesterday, and the sum is quite high.”

Colin let out a low expletive. Alesandra leaned into his side. “Who would do such a thing? And why?”

“There are stipulations,” Dreyson added with a nod. “And a time allowance as well.”

“I heard that Napoleon's life was insured, but only for one month's time,” Alesandra whispered. “And the Duke of Westminster insured his horse. Is that what you mean when you speak of a time allowance, Matthew?”

The broker nodded. “Yes, Princess. That is what I mean.”

“Who underwrote this policy?” Colin demanded. The anger in his voice was barely controlled.

“Was it Lloyd's of London?” Alesandra asked.

“No,” Matthew answered. “They're too reputable to become involved in a common wager. Morton and Sons underwrote the policy. They're the culprits, all right. They'll take any contract if the sum is high enough. I certainly don't deal with them,” he added with a nod. “But a friend of mine does and he's the one who gave me the news. Thank the Lord I happened to run into him.”

“Give me the particulars,” Colin commanded. “What is the time limit?”

“One month.”

“Who benefits if she dies?”

“The man who purchased the contract wishes anonymity” he answered.

“Can he do that?” Alesandra asked.

“Yes,” Dreyson answered. “Your uncle Albert does the very same by using his initials and he wouldn't have to put those down if he didn't want to, Princess. The underwriters are sworn to secrecy.”

The agent turned his attention back to Colin. “Thus far my friend and I haven't been able to find out who is behind this foul scheme. I'd wager, however, that it is the same scoundrel who blocked your wife's funds.”

“General Ivan? It can't be,” Alesandra argued. “Colin and I have been married only one day. He can't know yet.”

“Precautions,” Dreyson speculated.

Colin understood what the broker was trying to tell Alesandra. He put his arm around his wife, gave her an affectionate squeeze, and then said, “He probably gave orders to one of the men he sent after you. He's just having his fun, wife. He's a damned poor loser. He obviously knew you didn't want to marry him. You did run away in the dead of night.”

“He's cruel-hearted, isn't he?”

Colin could think of at least a hundred better descriptions. “Yes, he is cruel,” he agreed, just to please her.

“Matthew, did you mean it when you said Morton and Sons will issue any sort of policy?”

“Not policy, Princess, but contract,” Dreyson corrected.

“What is the difference?”

“Your husband would insure his ship,” he answered. “He would take out a policy to protect against disaster. A contract is another matter altogether. At least the type of voucher Morton and Sons issues is different,” he added in a mutter. “It's nothing but a wager, but cloaked as insurance protection so it doesn't violate the Act of 1774. Now then, in answer to your question, yes, they will issue any sort of wager. I remember one in particular. Everyone in London was talking about it. The Marquess of Covingham's wife delivered him a son, and a contract was immediately taken out on the infant's life for one year. The amount was high and payable only if the infant died.”

“Do you mean to say the contract could have been issued for the opposite? To pay if the infant lived?”

“Yes, Princess,” Dreyson agreed. “Everyone was appalled, of course. The Marquess was in a rage. Speculation grew during the course of the year, for you see, although the buyer of the contract can remain unknown at the time of purchase, his identity will be found out when he collects the sum due him. He must present himself at Morton and Sons and personally sign the voucher. He cannot send a representative.”