Alex came to stand in front of Laura’s desk. “You’re welcome to try.” He leaned back against its edge, folding his arms. “But I wouldn’t advise it. Not when you’re guilty of fraud and deceit yourself.”

Weatherwax puffed his chest. “A slanderous charge. I could bring suit against you for that, sir. My reputation as a solicitor—”

“I wonder what another solicitor would have to say about your conduct?” Alex paused. It was a stab in the dark. “Tom Finchley, perhaps?”

The effect was instantaneous.

Weatherwax’s face changed color, and he sputtered his words. “A villain of the first order! And he’ll have no room to accuse me of anything unethical. The man put a spy in my office. The shameless guttersnipe stole a file from me, and then disappeared. It’s a dark game Finchley and Fothergill play. Everyone knows it. The very notion of Miss Hayes consulting with the man—”

“Mrs. Archer,” Alex corrected automatically.

The idea of Tom having grown up to be a villain both fascinated and disturbed him. Alex hadn’t parted from his former friend on the best of terms. He’d hurt and betrayed him. How much of that betrayal had shaped the man Tom was today?

It was a troubling thought.

“Mrs. Archer, then,” Weatherwax amended, as if the name left a bad taste in his mouth. “You’ll forgive my skepticism. She said nothing of you at our last appointment. The very idea that there was time for the two of you to meet and marry—”

“A whirlwind courtship.”

“And now you summon me here to lay claim to half of the Hayes business. You don’t waste any time on pretense, do you, sir?”

“Which brings us to the crux of the matter,” Alex said. “How much of the business is left?”

The solicitor seemed to crumple. “The property in France is all that remains.”

“And the profit you made selling the other properties?”

“I invested the proceeds from both the sale of the Dorset and the London properties into a canal scheme. It was guaranteed to be a success. I had it on good authority.” Weatherwax withdrew his handkerchief again and blotted the perspiration from his brow. “Unfortunately, the project ultimately failed, absorbing all of the stakeholders’ money. There is some residual litigation over the matter, but it appears unlikely that any of the investors will recoup their losses. Not to a significant degree. These are the risks of doing business—”

“My wife wants to see the relevant documents. Bills of sale, bank records, and the like. You will have them here by tomorrow morning. Send them by messenger. My wife is in no mood to see your face again.”

Weatherwax gaped. “But Mr. Archer—”

“Shall we say nine o’clock at the latest? That’s not too unreasonable.” Alex straightened to his full height. “And now, I require you to write a letter confessing everything you’ve done.”