The Formidable Earl (Diamonds in the Rough #6) - Sophie Barnes Page 0,76

at Simon before returning her attention to Reeves. “Where was he employed?”

“At the Shadwell Gun Works,” Reeves said.

“Are you sure?” Simon asked.

“Course I am.” Reeves sounded slightly annoyed.

“I wonder, did Harold ever give any indication that he might fear for his life?” Simon asked.

Reeves shook his head. “Not that I recall. If anything, he was very excited about something right before he died. Said all his problems would soon be solved.”

“I’m sure that’s what he believed,” Simon muttered. “What about his colleagues?”

“Huh?” Reeves gave Simon a puzzled look.

“Did none of the other Shadwell employees ever come here?”

Reeves blinked a few times, then turned a questioning look on Blayne. “I’ve no idea. Do you?”

“No, but I can ask around,” Blayne said.

Following Simon’s reasoning, Ida felt a renewed sense of hope. “Let us know what you find, all right?”

Blayne nodded. “Aye. Ye can count on me.”

Ida thanked both men and was glad to see Simon shake Blayne’s hand in parting. He was trying to be cordial for her sake, which meant a great deal since she knew it wasn’t an easy thing for him to do.

Taking his arm, she allowed him to guide her back to the carriage. She glanced toward Amourette’s and briefly considered calling on Philipa, then dismissed the notion. All she wanted right now was to be alone with Simon. The very idea of having to answer questions and explain herself was exhausting. But just when Simon was ready to hand her up into their conveyance a squeal erupted, followed by her name.

Ida turned and instantly spotted her aunt.

“I heard you were back but I didn’t know if to believe it,” Philipa said in a rush. Having hastened over from the building next door, she panted for breath while trying to keep her plump body upright. “Was one note really all you could manage, Ida? I’ve been near death worrying over you and what you’ve been getting into.”

“I’m sorry,” Ida said while doing her best to quash the guilt creeping into her conscience. “As you can see, I’m perfectly well.”

Philipa glanced at Simon. “Are you absolutely certain about that?”

“Yes. Fielding is actually helping me.”

“From where I’m standing you would have been better served without his interference.”

Ida sensed Simon’s tension and tried to end the uncomfortable conversation by saying, “I promise to explain it all later, but I really must go now.”

Philipa shook her head and sighed with exasperation. “I doubt your parents would want this for you.”

“You’re probably right, but certain events have transpired these last few weeks that will make it impossible for me to live with myself unless I try to see justice served.” She took Philipa’s hands between her own. “I’ll never be happy otherwise.”

Philipa pressed her lips together and nodded. “You always did have a formidable will, just like your mother. Cynthia was also determined to have the life she envisioned.” She raised her chin and scrutinized Simon. “Will you keep her safe from now on?”

“I’ll lay down my life for her if need be,” Simon swore without hesitation.

Ida’s lips parted with surprise. He sounded so serious. But—

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that,” Philipa said.

“Indeed,” he murmured.

Ida stepped forward and gave her aunt a tight hug. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

“I’m sorry that didn’t go better,” Ida said once they were back in the carriage.

“Your aunt is simply concerned for you, and rightfully so. Her previous interaction with me was not the best.”

Nodding, she clasped his hand. What did it matter if he and Philipa got along? Ida had no reason to worry over whether or not her aunt approved of Simon. After all, it wasn’t as if he was going to be a permanent part of her life.

“I trust you also noticed the timing of Harold’s death?” Simon said, distracting her from the uncertainty pooling inside her.

Blinking, Ida forced her thoughts back to the forger. “He died right around the time the letters were sent.”

“And he worked for the munitions company all three men have invested in.”

“Who invested the most? Do you know?”

“Not yet. For us to figure that out, we’ll have to consult someone with access to that information.”

“Mr. St. John?”

Simon’s golden gaze pinned her. “If our instinct is correct, and I’m inclined to believe it is, then Harold was silenced in order to keep him from talking.”

“Yes, but do you honestly think Mr. St. John will tell us anything?” Ida hated the sense of hopelessness creeping over her, but they had to face the truth. “He has no reason to trust