Chapters (30)
- WITH ONE LONG STRIDE HE INTERCEPTED HER BEFORE SHE FINISHED . . .
- Also by
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Teaser chapter
- A BOUT THE A UTHOR
“Not stealing in the normal way. I think he has been taking the information regarding where James—my husband—buys his stock and to whom he sells it. I think he has been using my husband’s contacts to trade for himself. I suspect he sought his current position specifically to learn what he needed to know in order to do this.”
“What does your husband think?”
Mrs. Oliver lowered her gaze. “I have not mentioned it to him. It is really not my concern. It is not my company. He would not like me meddling.”
This was what was wrong with marriage, Minerva thought. One of the many things wrong with it. Here this perceptive woman had suspicions of activity that would harm her husband, but their union was such that the man would not want to hear her out.
“Tell me why you suspect this?”
“I visit my sister in Brighton frequently. I went down there two weeks ago. We visited the shops and, as I always do, I made it a point to pass by the one that buys from James. That is one of the towns that this new agent sells to, you see. I’m not checking on my husband’s trade, mind you. Just being curious.”
Keeping an eye on matters, was more like it. Mr. Oliver would do well to make his wife a partner.
“I don’t meddle,” Mrs. Oliver emphasized. “I just pay attention because if something ever happened to James, I’d have to do it all myself, wouldn’t I? There’s some money put away but not enough and I’d have to live on something.”
“You were telling me about Brighton?”
“So I was down there and passed by his patron shop and all appeared normal. I kept going, chatting with my sister, when ten doors down there was a shop that does not buy from James. In that shop there were the exact same lace collars and cuffs that he sells. Identical. Only one family in the Loire Valley makes them quite like that, and he never reveals their name. Well, in I go, pretending to want to buy some, and I learned this other shop had a price far below the one up the lane that James sells to. I knew then that something was wrong.”
“Shops can sell at any price they choose. Are you very sure that your husband did not sell this other shop the collars?”