London's Most Wanted Rake by Bronwyn Scott

Author:Bronwyn Scott [Scott, Bronwyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin Historical
Published: 2014-03-31T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Roland Seymour could not have wished for better luck. Expenses were high with the Season starting and the Comtesse de Charentes’s deed would come in useful. He’d left for London immediately and, a day later, sat ensconced with his syndicate in their offices on Fleet Street. ‘I want to send someone out to the property right away so we can determine what improvements need to be made. Then we can show the bank our list of intentions in order to get a lien approved.’

Seymour winked at the young man who served as the syndicate’s assayer. ‘Look hard, we want a nice long list, Charlie.’

Charlie grinned—he knew the game. ‘Yes, sir. I’ll set out this afternoon if you like.’

‘You may set out now,’ Roland offered expansively. There was a practicality to the request that suited him. Charlie might know the game, but only on the surface. The fewer people who knew about the darker side of his business, the better. There were things he and the syndicate needed to discuss in a more private setting.

With Charlie gone, Roland leaned forward and fixed Mr Eagleton with a strong stare. Eagleton specialised in knowing all sorts of unsavoury details about everyone, a collateral that was often more useful than money. ‘Well?’

Eagleton was a skinny weasel of a man with a sallow complexion. He usually looked avaricious. Today he looked contemplative and that worried Seymour. In fact, the whole atmosphere in the room had bothered Seymour from the start. He’d expected today to carry a celebratory air to it—he’d brought them a French countess, after all. But the tenor of the meeting had been quite serious.

‘She’s rich enough, I’ll give you that much, Seymour,’ he admitted slowly. ‘However, need I remind you that this is not usually how we go about it? Typically, we pick the “client”, not the other way around.’

Seymour fought back a grin. Client was a polite way of saying ‘mark’, but mark was far too much of a backstreet, St Giles sort of word and the syndicate wanted to paint themselves with a finer brush. ‘I did pick her,’ he answered quickly, his agitation building. They were questioning him? He’d been the making of them and now they doubted his judgement?

Eagleton looked about at the group as if waiting to take a cue from them and shrugged. ‘Perhaps. We’ve heard your account of the house party.’ He paused here and looked about the group before continuing. ‘We believe from your account it’s not entirely clear who picked whom. She made the first approach, did she not? She flirted with you across the dinner table, she sat with you for cards and she encouraged the walk about the room.’ Eagleton ran through the key events leading up to the introduction of her business.

‘She’s a widow and she might as well be French for all the time she’s spent over there. She’s bound to be more forward than other Englishwomen,’ Seymour defended his choice.

Eagleton steepled his hands. ‘We are worried you may have been manipulated, that’s all.

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