Heirs of Acadia - 02 - The Innocent Libertine Read Free Page B

he had and more. Considerably older than his young wife, Grantlyn’s heart had not withstood the shock of learning that he was soon to be destitute. For Lillian, one sorrow had been followed by another. Then, just nine days earlier, had arrived the worst blow of all.
    The banker now waiting for her in the front parlor was dressed in black. He always wore black save for some absurd trifle. Today his somber form descended to gray silk stockings and matching shoes buttoned up the side. They were polished to a mirror sheen, such that she could see herself approaching. “Good evening, Mr. Bartholomew. I trust you are well?”
    “Seeing you again, my lady, would be sufficient to revive me from any ill health.” He offered a modest bow. “And yourself ?”
    “Other than being plagued by matters which are not of my own making, quite well, thank you.” Pointedly she did not offer Simon Bartholomew a seat as she lowered herself into the chamber’s most ornate armchair. She leaned back slightly, a lady of power settling into her throne. “You wished to speak with me about some matter?”
    “Indeed so.” He flipped back the tails of his coat and settled himself into the chair opposite. “I find myself in need of your assistance.”
    “Forgive me.” She approved the frosty note in her voice. There was nothing to be gained by having this man know the fear he generated. In the sixteen years she had been wed to the count, she had learned many a lesson about letting others know their proper place. “I thought your occupation of my late husband’s country estate was all the assistance I should ever be expected to offer.”
    “Were that only so, my lady.” Simon Bartholomew was head of Bartholomew’s Merchant Bank, which managed the finances of many at Court. At first glance, he did not cut an altogether repellent figure. Smallish in stature and narrow faced, his age was impossible to determine, for he looked both old and timeless. His fingers were long with oddly flattened cuticles. His nose ended in a rather blunt fashion, as though he had poked his attention in one too many hidden crevices and someone had cut off the tip. His dark hair was laced with silver, somewhat like that of a wild fox entering its winter’s cave. His voice was mild like the breath of a killing freeze.
    “I fear you have come for no good reason, sir. No matter—”
    “Permit me to continue, my lady?”
    She bridled at being interrupted. But she had little choice save to respond “Pray make it swift, then. I am due elsewhere within the hour.”
    “I am indeed grateful for the smallest portion of my lady’s valuable time.” He settled further into his seat. “As you are no doubt aware, relations between our king and his opposition in Parliament have reached a crisis point.”
    “I fear I have no interest in politics, sir.”
    “Were it only possible for me to share your distance, my lady. The opposition is led by one William Wilberforce—you have heard of him?”
    “The name, perhaps. But I know him not.”
    “Be glad of that, my lady. A most contemptible gentleman. He leads the drive to abolish the slave trade.”
    Despite herself, Lillian found herself becoming fascinated. She had made it her business to learn as much as she could about this man who had become her greatest foe. Bartholomew’s Merchant Bank was heavily invested in the slave trade. Although slavery had been banished from England itself for twenty years, British vessels still trafficked in human misery. Some of the empire’s richest men, and the king’s staunchest supporters, lived off of vast estates in the Caribbean colonies and South America. These men stood to lose massive fortunes if slavery was completely abolished. Bartholomew’s could be wiped out entirely—not an unhappy circumstance since that would mean her own problems would evaporate.
    But Lillian held to the languid tone of one who could scarcely be bothered to hear the man out. “How anyone could be so