Drusilla's Gentlemen [Madame Joly's House of Passion 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Em Ashcroft

Author:Em Ashcroft
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
Published: 2014-03-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Mal came out of the offices of his man of business with his heart in his boots. Sarah had managed to get to the asset he was relying on to form the core of the rescue of his estates. The comfortable, prosperous manor in Ayrshire was mortgaged to the hilt, the flocks of sheep sold.

He had to confess to his tenants that he’d have to let some of them go. Close the coal mine he’d just opened up and the mill next to it. He had no recourse except to close everything he could and survive on what was left.

A small sum remained to him. Enough to live on. If she’d discovered that, she’d have spent that as well. His home was stuffed with rubbish that she’d bought, mostly useless once-fashionable items, fakes, and clothes. Most of the jewels were paste. He’d discovered her vice too late.

He couldn’t go to Madame’s in this frame of mind. As he walked past the Baltic coffee house, he decided to drop in. He wouldn’t see anyone he knew very well there, which was what he wanted right now. To be alone, to still the thoughts whirling around his head. Get himself under some kind of control before he went either to Madame’s or to Cam’s house.

After collecting his coffee, he crossed the room to one of the Windsor chairs set around the fire. At this time of day, in the early afternoon, the place was throbbing with activity. Men shouted, exchanging views, making deals, scribbling in those little books they all kept close to their hearts. Cam had one, but when he’d allowed Mal a look at it, he couldn’t make sense of any of it. Cam had laughed. “Nobody can, except my assistant. That’s deliberate. If anyone steals it, they’ll be none the wiser.”

Cam had made a fortune from his investments. Now it could be Mal’s only chance. He’d ask Cam, but he wanted to do his own work first. Leaning on Cam for more than moral support didn’t sit well with him.

He sat back and listened. People discussed deals and ships, and Mal absorbed the atmosphere. He’d always associate the smell of strong coffee and tobacco with this place, and those like it, the small, sparsely furnished rooms where thousands of pounds changed hands, where the air seethed with power. Closing his eyes, he put his mind to work on this latest setback.

“Lord McAllister?”

Startled, he blinked up at the man standing before him, blocking the light from the window. All he could see was a dark shadow and the ghost of features. “Yes, do I know you?”

“I believe so.” The man held out his hand. “Lord Dalythorpe, at your service. I’m acquainted with your friend Cameron Gilligan.”

Mal sensed no derision in the man’s tone. Since he and Cam had never bothered to contradict any rumors flying around them, some people assumed they had a special arrangement, as some coyly put it, or more specifically, they were fucking each other. If they were that way inclined, they would be.

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