CHAPTER 1
Bath, England
January 1891
William, Viscount Wethington, stared in horror at the missive in his hand, the blood draining from his head. He read it a second and then a third time, but the words never changed.
My dearest son,
After much consideration I have decided to retire from our townhouse in London and take up residence with you in Bath. Since the family holding is quite large, there is no reason for me to seek my own dwelling.
I have many things to do to close up the London townhouse, so it will be a week or two before I arrive.
I am so looking forward to spending time with my only son.
Affectionately,
Mother
His mother was coming to live with him.
They had not lived under the same roof for so many years that he’d lost count. He loved his mother dearly, but she consulted her dead husband for advice, found happiness and joy in every second of her life, which could be trying on some days, and had a tendency to get lost if she walked more than a block from her home.
Worst of all, his beloved mother was also determined to see him married with children. He oftentimes thought the sole reason she had given birth to him and his sister, Valerie, now the Countess Denby, was to provide her with grandchildren.
When he reminded her that Valerie and her husband had been reproducing at an alarming rate—seven children so far—she sniffed and said that as much as she loved them, she needed grandchildren she could see regularly. The earl and countess were currently living in France.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. She was correct, the house was very large, but nothing was large enough to shelter both him and his mother. He folded the letter and dropped it on his desk, relegating it to the list of things to think about after a brandy. Or two.
James Harding, his man of business, was due to arrive any moment. William had an uncomfortable feeling that something wasn’t right with his finances, though he had very little to go on.
He’d employed James for three years and had never had reason to mistrust the man. However, some of his own numbers did not add up to the information James had last provided.
William’s father, the former Viscount Wethington, had left him a tidy sum when he passed away, but William, wanting to ensure his future—and yes, the future of his one-day children—had used a good portion of the money to invest in various businesses and stocks.
He currently held an interest in two restaurants, one hotel, a small bank, and a printing company. Although James had advised against it, William had also financed a couple of industrial ventures in the United States, which were currently his best-performing investments.
His government bonds were solid as his railroad stock. Yet something wasn’t right, and he hoped to discover what it was today and set his worries aside.