An Icy Christmas Engagement (Christmas Matches of Worth #1)

Chapter Seven

Operating his business on Bond Street had its downsides.

Cedric remembered a time when he’d longed to visit the office, knowing that he could learn a little bit about how his father managed the business. His father had been his idol, after all. His inspiration. Cedric had aspired to be exactly like him.

So when he inherited the business—and by extension the office—he’d decided to do everything in his power to maintain it, to keep the memory of that perfect, seamless business that was operated by a no-nonsense kind of man. It was one of the ways he wished to preserve his father’s memory, since he’d been snatched away from Cedric at such a young age.

Cedric didn’t like to think about his parents’ death. The suddenness of it, the unfairness. It brought nothing but anger and resentment.

Today, however, it brought shame.

He turned away from the window—and the busy street he had been staring at for the past ten minutes—to look back at his desk. Fifteen minutes ago, his secretary came in with a report of a missing shipment. A shipment that had contained hundreds of pounds worth of spices and silk from the Far East. Gone, without a trace.

Not only was he going to lose money but his suppliers were not going to be happy. This would never have happened to the late earl.

But then, Cedric doubted his father had ever been under attack like this before.

His door opened but Cedric hardly spared it a glance. Only one person would dare to enter his office without knocking.

Harrison approached the desk, spying the report sitting on top, and sighed. “This is getting from bad to worse,” he complained.

Cedric turned back to the window but saw nothing. “I take it Linton has briefed you on what has happened then. ”

“He told me that he passed on a report of a missing shipment to you, yes.” Harrison was silent for a moment. Cedric didn’t turn. He could only assume that he was reading the report.

“Good God, this will cost us a fortune,” he griped. Cedric heard the telltale sound of paper hitting a flat surface. “Not to mention how many other people will be affected by this.”

“This goes far beyond just sabotaging my ledgers,” Cedric said. He turned, crossing his arms. “At this point, whoever is behind this is beyond forgiveness.”

Harrison huffed a mirthless laugh. “As if you would have attempted to forgive them in the first place.”

“You’re right. But when I find out who they are, they will regret ever attempting to ruin me in the first place.”

Furious was an understatement. Rage was not good enough to describe what he was feeling. It felt as if vengeance was burning in his veins, longing for escape.

As if he sensed the direction of his dark thoughts, Harrison sighed and made his way to the sideboard. “How was Ambrose’ dinner party?”

Cedric resisted the urge to groan. He’d been trying not to think about Ambrose’s insane proposal all day but had very little success. “He wants me to marry his daughter.”

Harrison winced visibly as he made his way back to Cedric with two glasses of brandy in his hands. “Ouch. I’m sure he did not take your response well.”

Cedric said nothing, sipping the brandy instead.

Harrison was silent for a moment too, and that was all it took for him to catch on. “You didn’t turn him down?” he gasped.

“I didn’t say yes,” Cedric mumbled.

“But you didn’t say no either. Surely you aren’t considering marrying her? I mean, I hear that she is a lovely girl who is quite on par with other ladies of our peers but I thought you were against the idea of marriage after everything that happened.”

“I am,” Cedric bit back.

“And yet you did not turn him down the moment he fixed his lips to suggest that you marry. That is quite…” Harrison paused, frowned, and then sipped his drink as if giving himself time to think of the right word. At last , he ended with, “Odd. ”

Cedric didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “As far as I am concerned, I am neither betrothed nor have I promised myself to anyone. Let us focus on the matter at hand instead, shall we?”

Harrison said nothing at first, watching Cedric closely as he made his way to the desk. Cedric ignored him. He pushed aside the offensive report and brought forth clean sheets of paper. His first order of business was to write to his suppliers about the missing shipment, as much as he loathed to do so.

“To be honest, Cedric, I did not have much faith in your ability at all,” Harrison said at last. “You are not one to dally with others for too long. Heaven knows how we ever became friends.”

“I am beginning to reconsider that myself,” Cedric grumbled but Harrison only laughed.

“You shall soon find yourself regretting those words, Cedric," he remarked casually, settling into the chair opposite the desk.

A moment later, someone knocked on the door.

“Oh?” Harrison sat up straight, eyes sparkling. “I wonder who that could be.”

Cedric narrowed his eyes. Harrison was up to something. And Harrison being up to something never spelled well for Cedric.

“Come,” Cedric called, already on edge.

The door opened and his secretary, Linton, strolled in. He always wore an anxious look on his face as if he was afraid to be within ten feet of Cedric. Cedric had seen Linton talk with Harrison and his other employees and he’d never looked so apprehensive.

Linton came up to the desk bearing a white letter bearing a seal. “There might have been a mistake, my lord,” Linton said, placing the letter on the desk then taking two large steps back. “This was received for you just now.”

“And not my residence?” he asked, looking balefully at the letter. He could already tell it was an invitation, though to what and from whom, he hadn’t a clue.

Linton began rubbing his hands together. His mouth opened and closed as he thought of how to respond. Cedric stared at him with one raised brow, waiting.

“Oh, the man does not know anything,” Harrison quickly came to his rescue. “You’re making him nervous. ”

“He is not nervous,” Cedric contested. “Are you nervous, Linton?”

“No, my lord,” Linton responded quickly.

Harrison rolled his eyes. “Terrified might be a better description.”

Cedric sighed, reaching for his spectacles. As he put them on, he asked, “Are you terrified of me, Linton?”

His response was not as quick this time. After a brief moment, he murmured, “No, my lord.”

Cedric reached for his quill pen. “There you have it.”

He didn’t have to look up to know that Harrison was shaking his head. Cedric ignored him.

“Is that all, Linton?” he asked.

“N-no, my lord,” his secretary stammered. “You have a visitor, my lord.”

Cedric paused, his hand hovering over his paper. He looked at Linton and then at Harrison who sported a broad grin.

“Your doing, I assume?” he asked.

Harrison nodded slowly.

Cedric was almost certain he was going to regret saying this but, “Show him in then.”

Linton was all too happy to leave. He scampered out the room, Cedric and Harrison staring after him.

“You frightful, frightful man,” Harrison lamented with a shake of his head.

“They do not call me the Ice Earl for no reason,” Cedric drawled. “Who am I expecting?”

“Worry not, my friend. He may be the answer to our problems.”

That only intrigued Cedric further and since this visitor couldn’t be more than a few feet away from the door, he didn’t bother questioning any further.

Soon enough, Linton reentered, showing a tall, bespectacled man inside. He had a nondescript appearance, so average looking that Cedric would not have spared him a single glance in any other setting. Now, however, he watched as the man silently made his way to the desk and stuck his hand out.

“Mr. Thornton Thatcher,” the man greeted in a gruff voice .

Cedric stood, clasping his hand. “The Earl of Colenhurst,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It is no pleasure, my lord,” Mr. Thatcher said solemnly as he released Cedric’s hand and took two steps back. “While I do value my work and treat it with the utmost seriousness, I am saddened by situations that make my work necessary.”

Dumbfounded, Cedric could only look at Harrison—who wore the biggest grin known to man.

“Mr. Thatcher is a private investigator,” Harrison provided, clapping Mr. Thatcher on the shoulder. The private investigator made no attempt to hide his disinterest in being touched as he took one large step away from Harrison and his apparently offending hand.

Harrison didn’t seem bothered by it, however. If anything, he seemed perpetually amused by it all.

“A private investigator, you say,” Cedric murmured. He studied Mr. Thatcher openly and the other man stared back unabashedly. “Smart of you, Harrison. This clearly is not something we have the capability or the time to get to the bottom of ourselves.”

Harrison beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “That is why I am here, Cedric, my friend. To provide solutions to otherwise bleak situations.”

“Perhaps we should end this small talk,” Mr. Thatcher spoke up. “So that I may be informed of the incident.”

“Incidences,” Harrison corrected with ease. He clearly didn’t mind Mr. Thatcher’s pragmatic demeanor. “It began when Cedric here went to the countryside and left his steward in charge in London, only for him to ruin his ledgers. By the time Cedric returned to London and realised what had happened, his steward was long gone.”

Mr. Thatcher reached into his coat and pulled out a pocketbook and pencil. He licked the tip and began writing. “I assume this is deemed unusual behaviour for him?”

“Correct,” Cedric answered, leaning against the wall behind his desk with his arms crossed. It was the only way he could hold in the underlying anger that was steadily returning to the fore. “He was a keen man, or else I would not have hired him in the first place. And I have had no issue with him until now. It only leads me to assume that he was convinced to doublecross me.”

“Has there been any altercation between this steward and you that may cause him to have ill feelings towards you?”

Cedric had to think about it. He knew he wasn’t the kindest to the servants, but he didn’t go around barking at them either. For the most part, he left them in the care of his butler and housekeeper, paying scant attention to what was being done around him. He treated James a little differently, of course, since he had become his right-hand man over the course of the two years he’d been employed. And during those two years, Cedric couldn’t recall ever having an issue with him.

“He was perfect,” he said at last. “If he harboured any ill will towards me, it was without my knowledge.”

“Hm.” Mr. Thatcher scribbled furiously in his pocket book. “You said there was more than one incident?”

“Yes, this is the other,” Harrison told him, gesturing to the offensive report on the desk. “Our shipment has gone missing without a trace.”

Mr. Thatcher’s pencil paused. Then began its scribbling again. “Is there anyone outside of you two who would be privy to the trade routes?”

“Linton, my secretary who showed you in,” Cedric told him. “I could give you a list of any other employees who would know such information.”

“And what of your competitors?” Mr. Thatcher asked, pausing his writing to peer at Cedric over his spectacles. “I assume you have a few.”

“Mostly friendly competitors, to my knowledge. Though, of course, that opinion has changed as of late. I could provide you with a list of that as well.”

“That would be appreciated. I would need both lists by the end of the day.”

“Not a problem.”

Mr. Thatcher closed his book and tucked it back into his coat. “I believe that is enough information for me to begin an investigation. But before I go, is there anyone who you are suspecting? ”

Cedric looked at Harrison. Harrison looked at Cedric. For one eager moment, he considered telling the private investigator just who had been resting on his mind for the past few days.

But instead, he shook his head. “Nothing is certain right now,” he said. “But if I do think of someone, you will be one of the first to know.”

“Please.” Mr. Thatcher nodded his head stiffly. “I shall take my leave then.”

Cedric straightened. “Linton,” he called.

“No need,” Mr. Thatcher told him, holding up a hand. “I can see myself out.”

Cedric nodded and watched as the stoic man took his leave. Once he was gone, he finally looked at Harrison, who was grinning expectantly at him.

“That was smart of you,” Cedric conceded, reclaiming his chair. “I should have thought of that.”

“Worry not, my friend,” Harrison sang. “Mr. Thatcher, as serious as he may be, is the best private investigator in London. If he cannot get to the bottom of this, then no one can. And while he takes care of that, we can focus on putting out these fires.”

Cedric rubbed his temples before reaching for his quill pen, already feeling a megrim forming at the correspondences he would have to send out to explain and apologise for the loss.

“You take care of that,” Harrison said. “I’ll head down to the wharf and see what I can learn.”

Cedric didn’t respond with anything more than a curt nod, focusing on the task at hand. But when he heard the telltale sound of the door closing behind Harrison’s retreating figure, he returned the quill to the inkwell and sighed. His eyes fell on the invitation Linton had brought in.

Deciding to get it over with, he picked it up and broke the seal, reading quickly. It was for Lady Maria’s annual Christmas ball, an event the late Countess of Colenhurst had never missed. Cedric didn’t want to go. The last thing he cared to do was mingle with lords and ladies when he had such a pressing matter to deal with.

But he also understood the importance of a ballroom. And if he didn’t attend, not only could it open his earldom up to criticism, but he could also miss out on maintaining crucial relationships that could help him outside of the ballroom. As much as he loathed the thought of doing so, he knew he would have to go.

Mr. Thatcher was a beacon of hope, though it was a little amusing describing a man like that in such a manner. But Harrison was right. Cedric could leave getting to the bottom of this mystery in his hopefully capable hands while he managed his business—a business that was beginning to burn down from the inside.

He just hoped he could put it out before the legacy he’d inherited came crumbling down around him.