Page 57 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

But Scarlett still wore a wool plaid pelisse, not bothering, evidently, in her haste to remove it. Zeph also noted that few of the others had removed their coats. This meeting, then, was called in haste, joined in greater haste.

Sitting like a queen behind her massive desk, the lovely lady merchant gazed at each of her visitors in turn and landed on Lord Ashley. “You spotted this man last Wednesday walking in Hyde Park?”

Rafe spoke up. “Yes, ma’am. Just that once. He talked with someone whom we suspect is one of his own. But O’Neill has seen him most often. Not I.”

Whomever they spoke of, none of them deigned to name him. What man were they discussing?

O’Neill nodded his dark head in agreement. “Aye, mum. I’ve seen the man in question four times.” He folded his big hands before him. He had frowned at Zeph when he showed up at Grosvenor Square minutes after her own arrival home. He’d asked for Gus, then reported to her that Zeph had left the house in secret, via the kitchen door of Ashley House, running two blocks over to hail the hack. “Each time I have noted his clothes, his gait, his demeanor. His friends, too. Each time I’ve seen him, I get a clearer picture that he may be our man. Then today, when I saw him enter the same house where Miss Butler had previously entered, I was alarmed.”

What was going on here? Was O’Neill following her?

He smacked his lips. “One of my men, Duggan, has been following Miss Butler ever since Sir Raphael and she arrived in Brighton.”

That shocked her. Zeph recalled meeting this man when Rafe and she were in Brighton. She’d had no idea that one of his men had followed her. James had been the one to accompany her whenever she left Rafe’s house here in London. It was disturbing that they’d thought so many men necessary.

She focused on Rafe but waited for more explanations of why they were all gathered here.

“We have come together, Zephora,” said Scarlett, “to share what we know about the man you met today in that house in Lambeth.”

Giselle had sympathy in her blue eyes, but her anxiety showed in the strong clasp of her gloved hands. “Your visit to Lambeth and Mademoiselle Lenoir raises many issues for us all. It does solve many mysteries for us, but presents even more problems for you. For us. All of us. And worse.”

“I wished no problems for anyone.” Zeph had had good reason to go alone to visit Cosette, though she would not tell all of them here until she had a better reason to do so. “I did not wish to disturb the butler.” I wished to go alone. “I did hire a carriage, yes.”

“Why?” Rafe asked, fear surpassing anger in his face. “You had seen your friend the day before. What was the urgency?”

“I will tell all of you my reasoning after you tell me why you are so intent on my actions.” What she had done had indeed looked…peculiar. But she’d wished to get her book from Cosette and hopefully analyze its contents quickly. Then she would decide how to deal with what she learned from it. If someone had stopped her then, she would have had to explain why she went to see Cosette again so soon. But here she was, doing it anyway.

“Thank you.” Scarlett met her eyes with bold assurance in her expression. “Appleby”—Scarlett turned to him—“please tell us all what you know about this man, Jean Lenoir, who called upon our Zephora yesterday with his daughter. Why would we question who he is and what he does?”

Zeph wondered how this man knew so much about Lenoir. Did he also know that Cosette’s father used another name when he appeared at Ashley House?

The earl, a broad-shouldered, handsome creature with bright eyes and pale hair, frowned. “This man is part of the large Parisian family of French bankers. Many are in Bordeaux in the Bourse, but most are now operating in Paris, close to Bonaparte. This family employs all their sons and cousins, so they run their banks as the Jarre, the Montagne-Jarre, and the Lenoir. This man who lives in Lambeth with his daughter is Jean Lenoir. He was run out of Paris last year because he stole funds from government investment in military equipment. Namely, rifles from the Charleville factory.”

Zeph did not need to be told about the association of Jarre with rifles. But was there a connection of stolen funds from Charleville…and her father’s invested profits from production of the guns? She hoped not. She would listen and learn, then ask if she must.

“Rifles. Lucrative indeed,” said Scarlett with satisfaction.

“Why do you tell me this? I know it.” Zeph frowned, intrigued by their knowledge of Jarre bankers. “You consider Monsieur Lenoir a threat to the security of Britain?” You think him a spy?

“Not him, no,” said Scarlett, who turned to her clerk. “What else do we know of him, Carlton?”

Carlton stood behind his employer, a hand to the back of her chair. A giant fellow with a musculature that would rival many a hefty French boatman’s, he smiled. His sharp-angled features went from boldly stark to daringly handsome. “Charleville manufactures rifles for Bonaparte’s Grand Army.”

Lord Ashley spoke up. “Lord Ramsey and Amber were there three years ago.”

Lord Carlisle was perplexed. “Why were they there?”

Gus chose to answer. “Amber was in hiding from Vaillancourt. She and Ramsey traveled the country, outrunning the gendarmes. They often talk today about the huge complex of armament factories in the eastern part of France.”

Carlton said, “They have expanded now. As well you might imagine. Bonaparte needs every rifle he can buy.”

“Which is why,” Zeph added, “any theft of investment money in the weapons is a crime. Treason, would you not say?”

“I do,” said Ashley, and the Earl of Appleby agreed.

Zeph knew more—and these people who were her friends deserved to learn all. “Monsieur Lenoir and his daughter do not have a sound relationship. He has been unkind to her, and the only reason she has come with him to this country is because Lenoir has so ruined the family name that the girl had no other means of support.”

Zeph sat, comparing what she knew to what the others offered up.