Chapter 27

Passepartout sent word four days later that he had returned to London with the Aurora. Phileas left Rebecca's house that evening late at night to not be seen. It was time for the mission to continue.

The next day at teatime, Rebecca Fogg's cousin was seen entering her home only to have the civil English pastime marred with a shouting match that could be heard on the street. Phileas Fogg left, looking fit to kill. Rebecca did not show herself again for another two days.

Jordan showed up the morning after the battle, making Rebecca wonder if he had a watch on the house. He knew nothing. He had only come to offer a schedule of payments for her debts. The mortgages, he proposed, could be combined with her debt to his firm. "That way, you will not have to make three different interest payments," he said.

Rebecca looked forlornly at the arrangement and did not have to fake what came next. That combined total would bring tears to anyone's eyes.

"I am so sorry," Rebecca said.

She rose to hide her face from her visitor. "This is utterly impossible. My cousin and I–we have had words. I tried to speak to him about the way he handles my estate. He wouldn't listen to me. Phileas said the way he runs our estates is his own affair and that I shouldn't worry about it. I told him I wanted to run my estate myself and he attacked me for doubting his abilities."

"Imagine!" Rebecca shouted in utter contempt. "He ruins me and then expects me to continue to trust him. It is beyond the pale."

She went silent for a moment, trying to regain control. "I assume you are talking to me about this matter because Phileas still refuses to make good on his mistakes?"

"True," Jordan said. "I told you he ended all business with my firm. Your cousin told me he would not repay the debts to the firm and accused me of mishandling the funds. Only I did not handle the funds at all. Your cousin set the whole thing up and how it would work. Your properties will go into foreclosure if the banks holding the liens are not paid. I suggest this method to save that from happening."

Jordan moved closer to Rebecca, standing at her back. He gently placed a hand on her elbow and turned her to him.

"Miss Fogg, I know you are an innocent in all this. You did nothing but trust your cousin. It is a shabby business when this sort of thing happens between family members. If you sign these papers and allow me to be your representative, I will get those mortgages taken care of so your properties can be protected. You can pay me back as you can. I would advise you, however, to stay away from your cousin and not discuss this with him further. You have no hard assets other than your personal possessions now. The income to repay your debts comes from his generosity."

Rebecca made an angry sound at that suggestion, but he took her hands, insisted she continued to listen to him.

Jordan said, "For better or worse, you depend on your cousin. It would not do to try his anger further. If he cuts you off, you will be completely without means and possibly without a home."

"But the debts are so large," Rebecca cried. "How could I ever repay them on what I receive from Phileas?"

Jordan lowered his head for a moment. "I could forgive my portion of the debts, the part that is owed to my firm. That would decrease it somewhat."

Rebecca looked at him in utter surprise and dropped her gaze to hide the shame she felt at accepting such sweet charity. "That is most generous of you, sir. I could not think how I could show my gratitude."

"There is no need," Jordan said, giving her a sympathetic smile as he pat her hands. "Please, call me Isaac. Our association may still be business, but I feel fate has placed us here to become friends. I only ask that you do not anger your cousin further."

"This is highly presumptuous of me," Jordan said as he led her back to the tea table; "but you have no other advisors. I would speak further if you will hear?"

Jordan looked at her for permission to continue.

Rebecca sat down in her chair again and nodded permission.

"I would suggest you consider some means of gently cutting ties with your cousin. There are ways to remove oneself from these situations." Isaac said. "I assume, as a lady of your background, you have few skills you could use to employ yourself?"

"I sew well," Rebecca said as a possibility.

Jordan smiled to her again in apology for the set down he would have to give. "Seamstresses make pennies for their work. That will not do."

Rebecca, visibly disappointed, looked down at her hands, accepting his words.

"You could, however, sell advice," he said. "It is called consulting. Your family, I believe, is highly respected by the Queen. You have court connections. There are many people who would pay you for information on what you hear about foreign trade, domestic policies; even who is and who is not in the Queen and Prime Minister's good graces. You would be surprised at how much business is done at the balls and receptions of London's social season."

"People would really pay for court gossip," Rebecca said in disbelief?

"People would pay handsomely, especially for court gossip," Jordan said. "All you would have to do is enjoy yourself at the parties and balls you usually attend and keep your ears open. I would think if you thought about it, you could already think of something of value to impart. Have you gone to any court receptions since returning from the country?"

"Yes, I went to the one the Queen gives for her godchildren and family members," she said.

Jordan's eyes lit up. "Exactly the sort of events the people I mentioned could gain valuable information from. Now, I'm not suggesting you impart just anything you hear, but consider what you may have heard that concerns foreign relations, trade, or the buying or selling of stocks or commodities. Tell me now, what might you have heard on those subjects?"

The two spent the next hour going over things that happened at the reception. He told her what could be of use and how it could be worded. Rebecca listened carefully and was visibly amazed at the way this business worked. Jordan encouraged her to seek invitations and go to as many of the season's events as possible.

"That will be difficult," Rebecca said. "Phileas does not like to go to ton functions. He only took me to the Queen's reception out of obligation. I can't go to these things by myself. That is just not done."

"Surely you have admirers," Isaac said. "A lovely lady such as you must have men on her doorstep constantly."

It was high flattery, and Rebecca smiled with pleasure at it.

"No, in truth, Phileas is my guardian and discourages anyone who pays suit to me. He says they have flaws. Phileas would know about such things," she added sarcastically.

"Come now," Jordan said. "You are not a debutant. You are a grown woman. It might be customary, but you are of age and can make your own decisions about such things. Are you telling me that all these years he has been refusing you anyone's company?" When she nodded, his mouth went agape.

"Miss Fogg, your cousin has been abusing his position. I strongly suggest you stand up for yourself and take control of this. Why, I know of at least one person who does business with me who confided that Mr. Fogg refused his suit to you, not once, but twice. It had been an offhanded comment. I was privy to this in response to a party he saw you at recently. This person would be most willing to court you if you will receive him."

"And who could this admirer be?" Rebecca said.

"He is the Earl of Thornbourgh's son, Nathaniel St. Pierre. I am sure you have heard that he has a terrible reputation," Isaac said, as her recognition of the name reached her face. "Please do not judge him by gossip. I have known him for several years. He may have been wild as a boy, but he is much more settled now. Nathaniel could do as your first escort until you find someone you like better. He is highly placed enough that your cousin could not object to him openly once you are seen with him."

"I do not know," Rebecca said. "This is so new and so… how would I contact him? It is not done for ladies to go calling on gentleman."

"If you give me permission, I could let him know you are open to meeting him," Isaac offered. "It could be some chance meeting in public. I understand the constraint women of your class live under. Have some courage in this," he said as a brother to a sister, leaning toward her in his seat.

"You know… I don't know why your cousin keeps you from meeting anyone, but if you were to take an interest, say in St. Pierre, for example. He is a very wealthy man in his own right, you know. I help manage his assets. Your consulting could pay off your debt by the end of the season. But should you find someone that pleases you, you could marry and throw your cousin off for good. A husband assumes the obligations of his wife. Nathaniel, for one, would not find your debt, even in its present state, a problem."

His eager brotherly demeanor dropped as he seemed to remember his station and his place with the lady he was talking to. "I speak out of turn. It is not for me to suggest such things," he said, visibly embarrassed. "I only wished to explain your options. I should go now."

He stood, and she stood with him.

Rebecca walked him to the door but touched his arm to hold him before he left.

"Thank you for your advice, Isaac," Rebecca said. "I have much to think about. I shall send you word once I have decided how to proceed."

Once the businessman was gone, Rebecca returned to her parlor and closed the door. She smashed the first thing she got her hands on against the far wall.

"He suggested what?" Chatsworth's jaw dropped.

Rebecca had just finished her report to Sir Jonathan on her meeting with Isaac Jordan. She ended it with his suggestion that she find a rich, titled husband to remove herself from Phileas's control. "I nearly choked when he made that suggestion myself."

"This is not what you had me expecting," Rebecca said. "I had every expectation that he would proposition me when he offered to forgive his portion of the debt. Instead, he turned into a society mama before my very eyes. Can you imagine? He wants me to go to court, take notes on gossip, and hunt down a husband."

Chatsworth could very well imagine Rebecca Fogg at court, but not as a part of it. She was a beautiful woman with all the graces necessary; but she just did not have the dull-witted intellect necessary to tolerate it for long. Chatsworth had met a few very intelligent women at court in his time as director of the Secret Service. They had all been married to powerful men and lived vicariously through their husbands. Rebecca would never do that. She was used to being in the forefront, running her life herself.

The question was, did she have the means to do what Jordan was asking? He had never known the Fogg family on a social level, so did not know what connections Rebecca could call on. Sir Jonathan knew Rebecca did not attend many social functions, but that could be choice, not lack of opportunity.

"The domestic espionage Jordan is suggesting you start is nothing new," Sir Jonathan said. "Jordan is very correct in how much statecraft is done at society balls. While irritating and unethical, it is not illegal unless the information is used illegally. My question is, do you have entry into that sphere? That is a very closed club he is asking you to join. The Queen's favor you enjoy as her goddaughter does not always include admittance."

"We have admittance," Phileas said from the other side of the room. He had been listening to Rebecca's report and watching her reactions while in Chatsworth's presence. Her demeanor gave him no clues. She was the soul of professionalism. If she still contemplated leaving the service or harbored any anger toward Chatsworth, she was keeping it to herself.

As she had gone deeper into her revelations, he had only just restrained his mounting rage. He had steeled himself for her having to deal with Jordan, forcing her into an affair. But this? This was not only unexpected, but beyond suffering. The bastard wanted to turn her into a spy for his own use.

Why he was after her to spend time with St. Pierre, Fogg could only guess. And Jordan was wrong about the fop's settling down. Phileas had known the man for years. All the stories of his affairs and antics were true and a continuing occurrence. As Phileas could remember, he had refused St. Pierre's suit to Rebecca once only because of his poor reputation. The other refusal must have come from Sir Boniface.

"Rebecca's maternal grandaunt, before her death, sponsored Rebecca into society," Phileas said. "Erasmus and I were brought along as her escorts. We were all given the seal of approval, and Rebecca and I still use it occasionally. When father had your post, and Rebecca was newly installed in the service, we used it to investigate blackmail cases involving peers. We still attend a few ton events a year as members on the fringe, but few."

There was more to the story than that, but Phileas did not see any reason to tell Chatsworth about it. Rebecca's dear grandaunt had, with imperial force, insisted his father allow her to put Rebecca through a grand debutant year. As he had dared not refuse, he made Erasmus her escort and Phileas her shadow. It had been spectacular and overwhelming for all of them after their studious, controlled upbringings.

Fogg had run across a group of older brothers doing the same thing he was and had been invited to join their group. They had been rakehells who had taken a liking to him and delighted in the chance to catch him up on all the fun they said he had been missing. In between balls, they introduced him to drinking, gambling, women, opium, and truancy. That fun got him hauled before Sir Boniface one night by his father's agents. They had saved him from arrest during a raid on a den of vice.

Sir Boniface had not minced words. He sat his oldest down and told him just where his behavior that night had nearly taken him and threatened to not only cut him off, but have him deported. Phileas had been old enough to resent his father's power, but young enough to have no resources to counter the threats.

Chatsworth cut into Phileas's thoughts, as he said, "The man may be after bits to use as blackmail or insider trade knowledge and domestic affairs. Or, he may owe this St. Pierre a favor and is providing you as payment. There is no way to tell without letting the matter run its course."

Sir Jonathan smiled in amusement. "You are familiar with doing what he wants. Meet with St. Pierre. Attend some parties. You know what should and should not be public knowledge. Give him some gossip. Phileas and I will keep a close eye. The two of you will continue the assignment for however long it takes to bury the swine."