The Price of Deception (13 page)

“I have here a letter,” he began, taking the paper
into his hand. “I’m afraid the news will be quite shocking to
you.”

Philippe raised his eyes and gulped the lump down his
throat. “Does someone wish to foreclose upon a loan?”

“Oh, no, no, Philippe. Our meeting here today is not
to give you bad news, but frankly I’m here to tell you some rather
surprisingly good news.”

Philippe couldn’t help but lean closer.

“Someone responded favorably to the advertisement we
placed in the business classifieds for an investor. I’m here to
tell you that you’ve received a positive and rather generous
offer.”

Benoit adjusted his spectacles that
had slipped down his nose, pushing them up with his index
finger.

“The individual has gone so far as to send me the
investment funds in good faith.” Monsieur Benoit picked up a check
from his desk. “I’ve been instructed by the investor to give you
this money; however, it does come with some conditions.”

Philippe’s eyes bulged from their
sockets. He could hardly believe the news that an investor dared to
find an interest in his failing business. He scooted forward and
leaned over his solicitor’s desk to ask a question.

“Conditions? Exactly what do you mean by conditions?”
Philippe furrowed his brow in concern.

“Well, first off, the individual who wishes to
invest, insists on total anonymity. I have strict instructions to
deposit this money directly into your account without your
knowledge of who signed the check that I hold in my hand.” Benoit
set the check face down on his desktop and picked up the letter
once again.

“You are to be given total control
of the business, but are required to write monthly reports and give
a strict accounting of your earnings and expenses. In addition, a
detailed business plan must be submitted within the fortnight
outlining the efforts you plan to take to bring the business from
the red into the black. You have six months in which to turn the
circumstances around, and if the investor is not happy with the
results, he will withhold further funds.”

Philippe sat somewhat dumbfounded over the news. “May
I ask how much the check is for?”

“15,000 Francs, based on the
current valuation of your customer base. Frankly, I think that is a
rather generous sum in light of your company’s recent
performance.”

“My recent performance,” Philippe mumbled. “I had a
thriving business until a string of bad luck and my partner died.
It wasn’t entirely all my fault.” He raised his voice in
defense.

“I’m not accusing you of anything, Philippe. However,
as you can see, these conditions are rather strict. It may take you
some time to comply with your investor’s wishes. That is, of
course, if you decide to take his offer.” He hesitated for a moment
and then continued. “The investor has one further requirement.”

“And what is that?”

“He requires that if he finds suitable accounts that
are worthy of your pursuit, you are required to take his
recommendations and procure those accounts to the best of your
ability.”

Philippe considered the conditions. The anonymous
investor wanted to insert his advice and exercise power over
certain business transactions. Though Philippe wanted total control
over all aspects, he had been pushed into a corner of take it or
leave it.

“Based on that further requirement, will you take the
offer?” Benoit looked at him in hopeful earnest.

It didn’t take long for Philippe to reply. He blurted
out, “You think me a fool? Of course, I’ll take his offer. What
choice do I have? Shall I relegate my wife and children to living
upon the streets? I’ll lose everything if I don’t turn things
around.”

He wanted to grab the check from his solicitor’s
possession and see the name penned across the signature line. It
was frustrating not knowing who was behind the investment.

“Very well then,” Monsieur Benoit
replied. He slowly folded the letter and laid it down. “I shall
communicate with the gentleman that you have accepted his offer. He
has asked that I be the intermediary in this arrangement. All
correspondence, reports, etcetera, are to be funneled through me to
pass onto the investor who offers these funds. I shall without
delay deposit the money into your business account. When the check
has cleared, I will notify you so that you may access the money
immediately.”

“Thank you,” Philippe breathed in relief.

“Be careful with the funds Philippe. Use each Franc
wisely to get yourself back on your feet. I’d hate to think of the
alternative.”

“And I,” he wholeheartedly
agreed.

Philippe watched Benoit stand to
his feet and reach out to shake his hand. He stood and grasped it
in return. “Thank you for the good news. I was expecting the worst,
I’m afraid.”

“Not today,” he replied. “Today you’ve received good
news.”

As soon as Philippe left the
office, he let out a loud sigh and wiped from his brow the beads of
nervous sweat with the back of his hand.

Whoever this mysterious sponsor
happened to be, he owed him his life! He would be eternally
grateful for the infusion of funds. The peculiar fact that he
wished to remain anonymous shaded the offer, but it wasn’t
unusual.

Philippe shrugged off the
uncomfortable aspects of the terms and focused on the positive. One
day he hoped to meet the man who saved him from bankruptcy and
profusely thank him for this second chance.

Chapter Eleven

Robert discovered the perfect avenue into the lives
of Suzette and his son—through the weakness of her husband. When
the correspondence arrived a week later from Philippe’s attorney
regarding the acceptance of his offer, a smug smile spread across
his face. Unquestionably, if he really knew where the money came
from, he’d refuse it in a heartbeat and bring his family down to
destitution through his pride. Robert had to protect Suzette. He
had cared for her since he met her at Chabanais, and he determined
to care for her until the day he died, now that he knew the truth
of the matter.

The check had been cashed, and Robert used his
connections to further his infiltration into their lives. Of
course, like any shrewd business investor, he wanted a return for
his money. In order to make certain he received a profit, he turned
to Marguerite’s husband, Lord Chambers, to secure that future.

As promised, though slightly delayed in occurrence,
Marguerite and Lord Chambers arrived at their residence for a visit
with their two children. Suddenly, the household filled with the
activity of a rambunctious four-year-old boy and a two-year-old
toddler, who seemed to get into everything. Marguerite brought
their governess, whose extra set of eyes kept the little ones in
line.

As soon as they walked through the front entrance,
Jacquelyn swooped down upon both children like a hungry eagle out
to rob another’s nest. Marguerite could hold her tongue no longer.
He could tell that his sister was on the verge of giving Jacquelyn
a piece of her mind, so Robert pulled her into her study for a
heart-to-heart talk.

“Give her an opportunity to get it out of her system,
Marguerite. She desperately needs it,” he pleaded.

“Needs it? The woman takes over every time she’s with
them. I really think she’d steal them away, if she could do it.
It’s rude, Robert. Terribly rude.”

“I know. I know,” he agreed, with a sigh. “She’s
getting worse in many ways as the years pass and no child is
conceived. I have no answers to the dilemma.”

He wanted to tell her Jacquelyn’s stability was a
concern, but worried it would fuel fears in Marguerite’s mind that
she might do something harmful to her children. Robert thought the
idea ridiculous, but his sister had a way of blowing things out of
proportion.

“Well, I do feel for her, Robert. Every woman wants a
baby, and I assume you do too, though you don’t articulate it very
much.”

“Of course, I want children. A son in particular
would be nice,” he added, with the knowledge of one already. “Just
let her play with them. It makes her happy. If you scold her like a
child over the matter, she’ll only sulk and then I’ll suffer for
her miserable moods.” Robert chuckled, trying to make light of the
situation.

“I will try and be tolerant,” Marguerite conceded.
“Though I find her somewhat overbearing in many ways. She
completely occupies my children’s attention when they are here.”
She paused for a moment as she thought of the past.

“I suppose, Robert, you could very well blame me for
your predicament. I am the one, after all, that told Father and
Mother of her family. When I first met Jacquelyn, we were close
friends. She was quite different in personality years ago. I
thought her a good match, and so did Mother and Father.”

“Well, I don’t blame you, if that’s what you’re
worried about. I answered Father’s bidding. What’s done is done,
isn’t it?”

Robert walked toward the study door and opened it for
Marguerite. “Now, do me a favor, little sister, and send your
husband in here. I have business to discuss with him.”

Marguerite raised an eyebrow. “And what kind of
business might I ask?”

“Business,” Robert insisted. “Money matters, which
would bore you to death. Now go get him.”

Marguerite raised her right hand and patted Robert on
his cheek. He knew she did it specifically to provoke him, because
he hated the patronizing practice of his mother.

“Of course, dear, whatever you say.”

He rolled his eyes, and she laughed gleefully as she
left the room. Robert walked over to his desk and sat down. A few
moments later, Lord Chambers stood at the door.

Edmund Chambers did not receive any deep respect from
Robert. Though he had given in to Marguerite’s cries to marry him,
he found the man of questionable character. His father apparently
had no objection to the match, so to honor his dying wishes, he
relented to the marriage.

Edmund’s wealthy family had made their fortune in
generations past through, what Robert thought a despicable
means—slave trading. Lord Chambers’ father had been a ruthless man
with no mercy for the plight of Negros. He transported men, women,
and children from Africa, the West Indies, and elsewhere to the
Americas during the heyday of purchased workers and servants.
Though they had, since the abolition of slavery in the Americas,
ceased business, Robert knew the money that now cared for his dear
sister had been earned by the sweat and torture of other human
beings. It disturbed him to the core.

Edmund, though, had continued commerce in the West
Indies by maintaining a sugarcane plantation that his father had
owned. Though he lived in England, his shrewd land managers took
care of the business for him and merely forwarded his profits.
Occasionally throughout the year, Edmund would travel to the
plantation on business and leave Marguerite at home.

As much as Robert hated the question he would soon
ask Edmund, he knew that the man had to be used to further his less
than honorable purposes.

Edmund walked through the door and greeted him with
little civility. The man’s demeanor brought a spirit of darkness to
the atmosphere. Tall and commanding, his dark hair and eyes added
to the mystique of his appearance. The two rarely talked one-on-one
in a situation such as this, and no doubt Edmund wondered about the
sudden need for a private conversation.

“Ah, Edmund. Come in. Would you like a drink?”

Edmund glanced about the study and spied the decanter
of alcohol. “Is that brandy?”

“Brandy it is.” Robert walked over and poured him a
glass. He took one as well, and then returned to sit behind his
desk after he gave the spirits to Edmund. He watched as he
swallowed it rather quickly and then took a seat in a nearby
chair.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yes, I have some business matters I’d like to go
over with you.”

“Well, this is a rare occasion,” he sarcastically
replied.

“Yes, rare indeed,” Robert chimed back. “I’ve
recently made an investment in a shipping company.”

Edmund nearly choked on the alcohol in his throat.
His eyes narrowed. “You invested in a shipping company? Pray tell,
why?”

Robert took a drink. “Let’s just say it’s for
personal reasons. An old friend from Paris fell on hard times and
needed help. I offered to invest so his company wouldn’t go
bankrupt.”

“Nice of you,” he drawled. “But what’s that got to do
with me?”

“Well, I need to procure a rather large account,
Edmund. You ship your sugarcane from your plantation to Europe, do
you not? Who is your shipping company?”

Edmund laughed aloud. “Oh, I see where this is
going,” he said, with a look of superiority on his face. “You wish
me to drop my current carrier for your new business?”

Robert smiled in response. “You’ve concluded
correctly. Can we talk business?”

“Refill my glass and we’ll see, Duke Holland.”

Robert reached over and took the empty glass from his
hand and walked to the decanter. He poured enough into the glass to
loosen up his brother-in-law and handed the brandy to him. Robert
sat down and sported a smug look upon his face.

Edmund took another sip. “Willingham Brothers
Shipping is my current carrier. If I were to drop them, it would
have to be worth my while. I am after all a business man as well,
Robert.”

Robert watched Edmund mull over the possibilities of
savings in his mind. Instead of waiting, he decided to make the
first offer.

“Ten percent discount off your current terms with
Willingham.”

“Fifteen,” he pompously countered, “or we have no
deal.”

“Fifteen it is then.” Robert extended his hand across
the desk. He knew he had just procured for Philippe a large
account, but one more thing had to be done before the deal
concluded.