The Price of Glory by Seth Hunter

Author:Seth Hunter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: McBooks Press
Published: 2010-08-23T04:00:00+00:00

“I felt I should apologise for my abruptness of last night,” began the banker promisingly. “I did not wish you to feel put out.”

“Not at all,” Nathan assured him. “You were right. It was neither the time nor the place.”

“I appreciate your understanding. Paris is now much safer than it was for the pursuit of business interests, but it is still necessary to be discreet.”

They sat in a quiet corner of the lobby. The same corner, in fact, where Nathan had met Thomas Paine, the evening before his arrest.

“I will come directly to the point,” Ouvrard continued briskly. “Gilbert Imlay.” He leaned back and regarded Nathan with a secret smile as if they shared some delightful private joke.

“You are acquainted with Mr. Imlay ?” Nathan enquired politely.

“I have met him.” The smile broadened a little. Whatever the joke, he was clearly enjoying it. “Did he not mention my name to you?”

“Whatever my own failings in the matter, Imlay has a great regard for discretion,” Nathan replied. “He named very few of his acquaintance in Paris.”

“But Madame Tallien was among them.”

There was no point in denying it but Nathan’s nod was reserved.

“I am here as the representative of Madame Tallien,” the banker assured him, though with a continued amusement that Nathan was beginning to find irritating. “Imagine she is before you.” He watched Nathan’s countenance with interest. “Difficult, I agree. Perhaps this will assist you.” He reached into his pocket and produced a slim violet envelope which he slid over the table. It was addressed to Nathan and contained a single sheet of paper, also violet and heavily scented.

Dear Captain Turner,

I am pleased to introduce to you Monsieur Ouvrard who has been so good as to advise me on certain matters of business. You may place your complete trust in him, in the sure knowledge that he has all that of

Your good friend, Thérésa Tallien.

Nathan replaced the letter in the envelope and passed it back. Rather to his surprise Ouvrard took it and put it carefully back in his pocket.

“Good. Now we can talk business,” he continued briskly. “As I am sure you are aware, Mr. Imlay made certain investments for Madame Tallien before I had the honour of advising her on such matters.” Did this imply a criticism or degree of doubt? “I take it he has instructed you to report on the progress of those investments.”

Nathan dropped his voice. “Imlay is presently in London,” he confided, “but he has recently returned from Louisiana where he was able to make an account of the situation in the western territories. Unfortunately the Spanish authorities continue to oppose settlement in the region, actively encouraging the Indian tribes to attack those brave enough to venture west of the Appalachians—apparently with the approval of Madrid.” He paused and tried to think how a land agent might put it. “As a consequence of which, land values in the region remain static.”

“Static,” Ouvrard repeated, as if this was not a word with which he was familiar.

“Neither up nor down,” added Nathan, for the sake of clarity.

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