CHAPTER 198: CHAPTER HUNDRED AND NINETY EIGHT

After her successful but draining series of meetings with the Ellington advisors, Augusta sat in her husband’s imposing chair in his study, looking at her own copy of the list of the establishment’s advisors and investors. Mr. Prescott stood by her side, ready to answer her questions.

"Tell me about this one," she said, her finger tapping on a single, unfamiliar name. "Lord Carlisle Austen."

Prescott cleared his throat. "I have done my research, Baroness," he started. "The name itself seems to be a ghost. There is no Lord Carlisle Austen in the official peerage. However, I have found someone who is connected to the surname ’Austen’. A Lady Isla Austen." He paused. "It might be an anonymous person," Prescott continued carefully, "maybe her father or male relatives held a significant number of shares in Ellington Textiles. It is possible he gave her his shares as a gift or left them to her in his will. I might be wrong, of course, but the connection is strong."

Augusta dropped the list on the desk with a sharp slap of paper against wood. She leaned back in the large chair, her gaze fixed on Prescott. "Isla Austen?" she repeated, the name tasting familiar in her mouth.

Prescott nodded his head. "Yes, Baroness. She is a very influential woman. She owns an exclusive social club in the city called The Gilded Cage. It is for recreational purposes, mostly for high-ranking aristocratic ladies and women to play cards, paint, practice embroidery, play croquet, listen to music, and, of course, drink tea and gossip."

Augusta nodded her head slowly, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. "I know her," she said, more to herself than to Prescott. "She once sent me an invitation to join, years ago. I declined, of course. I had more important things to do than paint flowers and gossip." She looked at Prescott again. "She runs in the most prominent wives’ circle in this kingdom. Her influence is considerable." She asked Prescott. "Have you made contact with her, like sending her a letter of invitation?"

"Yes, I did," Prescott replied. "It was delivered to The Gilded Cage by special messenger this morning."

"And her reply?" Augusta asked, leaning forward with anticipation.

Prescott’s expression was carefully neutral. "She turned down a meeting with you, Baroness."

The air in the room grew cold. Augusta stared at him, her face a mask of disbelief that quickly hardened into anger. "Is that all?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet. "She owns nearly ten percent of the establishment we are trying to control. Ten percent, Prescott. We need her on our side before Delia gets to her if not all our efforts will be in vain and you are already giving up after one failed letter?"

"I’m sorry, Baroness," Prescott said, bowing his head slightly. "I can try again..."

"Leave me," Augusta commanded, dismissing him with a sharp wave of her hand. She rubbed her temple, a headache beginning to form behind her eyes.

Prescott bowed again and exited the room, closing the heavy door softly behind him. Augusta was left alone with the list, her mind racing. Isla Austen had refused her. It was an insult, and more than that, it was a dangerous obstacle. She would have to find another way to get to her.

~ ••••• ~

The very next day, after gathering her own information from her investigation and from Prescott’s letter, Delia went to The Gilded Cage. Lady Isla was making a fresh pot of tea for both of them as Delia sat down in the quiet, private room, her gaze falling on the half-empty jar of her own strawberry food dye that now sat on a shelf as a precious ornament.

Isla dropped the tea tray on the table and gave Delia a cup. "Drink this," she said, her voice warm and friendly.

Delia collected the cup with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Lady Isla."

Isla took her own seat, gently blowing over the top of her teacup before taking a small, delicate sip. "I must admit, I am very curious, Delia," she asked, as she dropped her cup back into its saucer. "Why did you want to see me today?"

"You have a great deal of assets invested in the Ellington Textile Establishment, Lady Isla," Delia replied, getting straight to the point.

Isla smiled, a knowing, almost mischievous expression on her face. "Oh, that?" she said. "Yes. I had to buy them using a man’s name, of course. A woman making such large, independent investments would cause far too much talk." She leaned forward. "I am pretty good at investing, am I not?"

"It is not a very promising establishment at the moment," Delia replied, her own tone now serious. "With all of their financial issues lately, you might be at a great loss with your investment."

"And should I guess what you are trying to ask me now, Delia?" Isla replied, her smile returning.

"Do you know what I am trying to ask you?" Delia asked.

Isla chuckled, a soft, warm sound. "You want my help," she said simply. "You want my 9.9 percent, my vote, to go up against the Baroness Augusta." She then revealed something that made Delia’s eyes widen in shock. "I have already been asking around, you know. I have been speaking with the wives of some of the other advisors, trying to convince them to get their husbands to side with you. It will not be easy. Many of them have very good, very long-standing relationships with the Baroness."

"Why?" Delia asked, her voice a shocked whisper. "Why did you do all of that for me already?"

"What do you mean?" Isla let out a nervous, but genuine, chuckle. "It is because we are friends, Delia. That is what friends do for each other."

Tears welled up in Delia’s eyes.

Isla, concerned by her sudden emotional reaction, asked, "Are you alright, Delia?"

"I... I thought about it all through the night," Delia said, her voice a little shaky as she tried to explain the real reason she had come here today. "Who is this mysterious Lord Carlisle? A source told me that he might be your father. Another one of my sources told me that a man with that name does not even exist. I thought and I thought about it all night long, and then I finally came to a strange conclusion."

She looked at Isla, her blue eyes now shining with a brilliant, deductive light mirroring the other woman’s blue eyes. "I decided to unscramble the name, to see if it was a code. And I found two names hidden inside. ’Isla’ from the letters i-s-l-e. And the letters from the beginning of the name ’Ca’." She paused, her eyes locked on Isla’s. "I wondered what name started with Ca. I thought of all the women I knew from my childhood, all the girls I grew up with. And now, sitting here, I’m sure of it."

The room was silent. The only sound was the soft ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner. Isla’s own friendly, smiling expression had dropped.

Delia continued. "It’s Catherine."