Before he met his father.
And most definitely before he’d discovered the garden and made love to the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.
“To build a new school of course,” Taylor replied. “The plans are quite remarkable. There will be enough room for two hundred students, all from the most desirable families across the northeastern United States as well as the local area. An oasis where young minds can be encouraged.”
Soon Taylor was rambling on about a chapel, a gymnasium, school rooms, a library. Stables for horses. Lodging for students, faculty, and the small army of staff required to run it.
“They, of course, will be lodged on an adjacent property,” Berwick continued.
“Adjacent?” Beau replied. “Do you mean the Chandler property?”
Mr. Taylor nodded. “We have made them an offer as well. Contingent of course on the sale of this one. It would have no value to us without this one as well. They have been resistant to the idea. But I’m certain once you and I come to an arrangement, they can be made to see reason.”
Beau’s gut tightened. This was the matter Taylor had pressed Daniel about. Despite Daniel’s non-committal tone, perhaps the Chandlers were interested, if the money was good enough. Daniel had a daughter living in Avonford, a small town on the Bay of Fundy a few hours away. Hollis had just come from visiting her.
But he’d heard Daniel talk about the plans they had for the farm. How he hoped to give it to Teddy one day. If Beau sold the property, the Chandlers would have to move.
He’d just lost the man he’d thought was his father.
He could lose the man who was.
Beau took a moment to gather his thoughts. Used well, silence was a powerful tool. Instead of filling the air with mindless conversation, Beau took his time, spooning a bit of sugar into the tea Madeline had poured out for him. He stirred the liquid, watching the sugar disappear, then picked up the delicate porcelain cup he and Madeline had found packed away in a crate. All the while, he felt Nelson’s stare boring into him.
“I’ve been rethinking the offer,” Beau said. “Now that I’ve arrived, I’ve become quite taken with the property.”
“I didn’t think a man of your reputation would be interested in an old house and a barn,” Taylor replied, his voice edged with forced nonchalance. “Unless, I suppose, he needed a place to hide from the law.”
Beau laughed. He couldn’t help it. The moment Taylor had shown up at his door, Beau had known. It was out now, and Taylor had shown his cards.
“An innocent man doesn’t need to hide from the law,” Beau said, taking a sip of tea. “You’re a lawyer, aren’t you? You should know that. Unless, of course, you are more interested in keeping the guilty out of prison.”
Taylor narrowed his eyes and idly stroked his beard. “If you’re not hiding, why are you here? No one’s lived in this house for at least twenty years. And you hardly look like the sentimental sort.”
Once upon a time, Beau would have agreed with him. He hadn’t been particularly sentimental. Frank had only been interested in what he could earn.
“I was already making plans to visit and conduct an informal survey of the property when this business happened,” he said. “If I were guilty, do you think I would come here, of all places, when I could find a lovely little apartment in Rome and live out my days unbothered by the cold or a court in New Brunswick?”
Beau watched Taylor study him, trying to pick apart the truth. Beau had to believe this statement to the core of his soul to be convincing. And he could only hope that the heavily coded message he’d sent back to the detective might help the case get solved.
“In fact,” he continued, putting on his best smile, “we recently were informed of a very promising break in the case. I expect to be back in the boardroom at Silver Lumber in a fortnight. At the head of that boardroom table, I might add.”
He put down the cup and leaned in, as if inviting Taylor in on a secret.
“Please tell me that a man of your intellect would not be so eager to collect a mere two hundred dollars,” he said deliberately, choosing each word carefully, “only to lose out on the potential of future business with Silver Lumber or any of our customers across New England. Contacts who might be eager to send their sons to George’s College.”
Nelson stilled, the implications of Beau’s threats landing on his shoulders. It was a hollow threat, though Taylor couldn’t know that. Without any word from Dominic, Beau’s future was still very much in jeopardy. But the last person Beau would ever do business with was a man who’d treated someone he thought beneath him so abominably. Especially if that person was Madeline Murray.
“What kind of business?” Taylor asked, once he’d recovered himself. As Beau suspected, the man was driven by a familiar principle: greed.
“Once the charges have been cleared, we can discuss it,” Beau replied. “Do we have an agreement?”
Beau could tell the man was wavering. Besides whatever fee he was charging the school trustees, Taylor would no doubt earn an extra fee if he sealed the deal. He had to be as invested in Beau’s innocence as Beau himself.
“I will consider it,” Taylor said at last, getting to his feet and leaving his business card. “In case you need someone to keep you out of prison and in the board room of your company.”
* * *
From the room across the hall, Maddy peeked from behind a lace curtain, watching Nelson hop into his gig and drive away. The rain had already start to let up, but her insides were roiling. She stood motionless, watching the horses, not daring to look away until they were out of sight.