Cain His Brother - Anne Perry [11]
However, on this occasion he made no attempt to impress.
“I gather from Mrs. Stonefield’s letter that she has sought your help to discover what has happened.” He made it a statement, not a question. “I admit, I am close to my wits’ end to think what can have befallen him, and would be glad of any assistance you can give.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Monk acknowledged. “I have been to his offices and they appear to know nothing, although I have not yet been able to question Mr. Arbuthnot, whom I am told is in charge and would have the authority to speak more frankly to me. However, if there is any financial hardship, it is certainly not evident—”
Ravensbrook’s black eyebrows rose fractionally. “Financial hardship? Yes—I suppose you have to consider that. To one who does not know Angus, it would seem a possibility. However …” He walked over to the mantelshelf, where two exquisite Georgian silver candlesticks sat on either end and an Irish crystal vase a little to the left of center held a spray of golden winter jasmine. “As Mrs. Stonefield will have told you,” he continued, “I have known Angus since he was a child. He was five when his parents died. He has always been ambitious, and prudent, and he had the skill to bring dreams into reality. He has never been one to seek shortcuts to success, or easy paths. He would not have gambled.”
He turned to face Monk, his eyes very dark, absolutely level. “He was of a nature which hated risks, and was totally honest down to the slightest detail. I happen to know that his business is flourishing. Of course, if you wish to satisfy yourself in the matter, it will be perfectly possible for you to examine the accounts, but it will be a waste of time, as far as finding him is concerned.”
His voice was tight with emotion, but his expression was unreadable. “Mr. Monk, it is of the utmost urgency that you learn the truth, whatever it may be. The business requires his presence, his judgments.” He took a deep breath. Behind him the fire roared up the chimney. “When it becomes known that he is missing, not merely on some journey, then confidence will crumble. For his family’s sake, if something … appalling has happened to him, the business must be sold or a new manager appointed before it is known, and prestige and the value of his reputation are squandered. I have already offered Genevieve and her children my protection, here in my home, as I did Angus before them, but so far she has declined. But the time will come, and quite shortly, when she can no longer manage.”
Monk made a rapid decision as to whether he should be candid. He regarded Ravensbrook’s lean, intelligent face, the sophisticated taste in the room, the slight drawl in his voice, the steadiness of his gaze.
“After financial difficulty, the other most obvious possibility is another woman,” he said aloud.
“Of course,” Ravensbrook agreed with a slight down-turning of his lips and the barest flicker of distaste. “You have to consider it, but you have met Mrs. Stonefield. She is not a woman a man would leave out of boredom. I rather wish I could believe it was something … forgive me”—a muscle twitched in his jaw—“so pedestrian. Then you could find him, bring him to his senses, and return him home. It would be most unpleasant, but in the end it would make no permanent difference, except perhaps to his wife’s regard for him. But she is a sensible woman. She would get over it. And of course she would be discreet. No one else need know.”
“But you think it unlikely, sir?” Monk was not surprised. He found it less easy to believe than he would were it any other woman than Genevieve