Martin held Sophy’s chair for her, then sat beside her. Oliver settled opposite, with Charlie beside him, across the table from Sophy.
Silence—or rather, their churning thoughts—still held them.
The soup was served, and her ladyship, anticipating the likely discussion to come, waved Higginbotham and the footmen away.
As those at the table picked up their soup spoons, Charlie grumbled, “I thought that blasted document had something to do with my debts.” He caught Martin’s eye. “Other than affect my voting rights, is there anything else that document does?”
Martin savored his first mouthful of oyster soup and shook his head. Briefly, he outlined what Brumidge had told them about the customary use of the instrument. “It’s limited to changing the voting rights of shares and nothing else.”
“Changing the voting rights is more than enough.” Sophy looked around the table. “So, is Edward behind all of this? Is he Vince Murchison’s ‘gaffer’? Is Edward the one who hired Vince and his thugs to damage the steelworks?”
No one leapt to answer her.
Oliver had been frowning in thought. “I’m no legal expert, but once those documents were executed, given there’s no theft as such involved, I imagine getting them rescinded and the outcome reversed wouldn’t be easy or even straightforward.”
“Given how the courts work,” Martin pointed out, “it might take years.”
“Years during which Edward would have unchallenged and unchallengeable control of the business.” Sophy’s expression grew dark. “And I can readily imagine that, as I’m a female and Charlie is widely viewed as a reckless profligate, Edward would be in an excellent position, socially, morally, and legally, to dismiss any formal appeal to have the documents overturned.”
After a moment, she glanced at Charlie. “Thank God we didn’t sign, so it won’t come to that.”
Oliver caught Martin’s eye. “A lot can be done with a business in two months, let alone a year.”
Martin nodded. “Irreversible changes.”
Julia set down her soup spoon, dabbed her napkin to her lips, then in a surprisingly steadfast voice, stated, “I simply cannot see Edward having a role in any of this.” She looked around the table, her expression adamant. “He’s stuffy and starchy and difficult to like, but that stuffiness and starchiness are because he holds himself—and everyone else—to the highest possible standards of behavior. He’s rigid and unbending and prides himself on being what we term ‘correct.’” She shook her head. “I honestly can’t see him being this”—she gestured—“devious.”
The rest of the company regarded her, then Lady Bracknell huffed. “I have to say I’m having the same problem casting Edward as the villain. He’s such a priggishlyrighteoussoul. To be so underhanded…” She, too, shook her head. “I really don’t think he has it in him.”
Across the table, Martin exchanged a look with Oliver. They both knew of instances of righteous façades concealing much darker natures.
Beside Martin, Sophy sighed. “I’m having much the same problem. Despite Edward being the only person to benefit from the execution of those documents, I’m having great difficulty seeing him planning all this, much less hiring the likes of Vince Murchison.”
Charlie slumped back in his chair. “I can’t even imagine Edward knowing who Murchison is, much less making contact with him.”
Sophy tipped her head Charlie’s way. “And even more to the point, I cannot understand why, apparently entirely out of the blue, Edward would have developed such a compelling desire to run the steelworks.” She met Charlie’s eyes, then glanced at Martin. “He has never shown the slightest interest, not even when my father encouraged him to claim a position in the business—any position he wished.”
Lady Bracknell huffed. “I remember that. I was present at that meeting, and from the way Edward reacted, you would have thought Edmund had offered him a position as the lowliest of workers rather than one at Edmund’s right hand!”
Julia was nodding in emphatic agreement.
They fell silent as Higginbotham and the footmen reappeared and cleared the soup plates and brought forth the dishes of the main course. All was served as her ladyship directed, then she waved the staff from the room again, and they addressed their plates.
After they’d been eating for several minutes, Martin glanced at Oliver, then spoke to the table at large. “If we accept your collective insights regarding Edward as accurate and, from that, postulate that he knows nothing about the activities of Murchison and his thugs, that leaves us facing the question of whether Edward knows about the documents. Those documents which, if signed, would give him sole control of the steelworks.”
When the others all frowned as if unsure where that got them, Martin went on, “For argument’s sake, let’s say that Edward knows nothing about the documents. If so, then it appears he’s being set up to be used as someone else’s puppet.” He looked up and down the table. “From what you know of Edward, is that possible? And if so, who might be the one planning to pull his strings?”
Charlie’s face cleared. “Ah—I see.” He set down his cutlery and reached for his wine glass. “I have to say, that sounds much more likely. Edward thinks he’s thoroughly up to snuff, but in reality, he’s led a very sheltered life and, therefore, is quite naive, especially when it comes to other people.”
From their expressions, Lady Bracknell, Sophy, and even Julia agreed.
“But,” Charlie continued, “if Edward is being used as someone else’s pawn—or should that be someone else’s unwitting stalking horse? Regardless, the person looking to pull his strings won’t be Murchison or anyone like him, for precisely the same reason that Edward would never have approached Murchison in the first place.”
Julia put in, “Edward would consider all such people far beneath his notice.”
“Exactly.” Cradling his wine glass, Charlie warmed to his theme. “Edward is an arrogant snob who would never sully himself—or his belief in his own superiority—by consorting with those he deems the underclass. I grant you the older Murchison, Walter, is rather more presentable than Vince, but even Walter is a rough sort with only the thinnest veneer of respectability. Neither brother—or any of their peers—is the sort Edward would ever lower himself to deal with.”
It was obvious that Sophy, Lady Bracknell, and Julia shared Charlie’s assessment of Edward.
