Historical Romance May 2017 Books 1 - 4. Bronwyn ScottЧитать онлайн книгу.
the bulky footman, escorted Captain Christiansen to the ground floor were proof enough.
‘How dare you treat me like a pickpocket?’ Captain Christiansen wrenched out of Adam’s firm grip. ‘Do you know who I am?’
‘The second son of Lord Fenton,’ Jasper announced, stepping into the lantern light near the back door to meet the men.
‘And who are you?’ Captain Christiansen demanded. He was tall and round faced like his father the Earl, but with a higher forehead and more hair. His skin was tanned from his years at sea and would never lighten to a more aristocratically preferred pallid white.
‘Mr Patrick, the owner of this establishment.’ It was one thing for Captain Christiansen to meet him, but he wasn’t ready for the man to spread his identity all over London. Jasper might be working to leave this life, but he still couldn’t risk his family learning of it. ‘I thank you for your patronage, but it cannot continue.’
‘You think I don’t have enough to play in your rotten room, but I have more money than you can imagine.’ He poked one finger in the air at Jasper.
‘I’m sure you do.’ Jasper allowed the man his dignity in an effort to make him more compliant. ‘But I don’t permit men to ruin themselves here. I must insist you no longer frequent this establishment.’
‘You can’t ruin me. My brother is sick, the wasting disease.’ He seemed to relish his brother’s impending demise.
‘I’m sorry for his ill health.’ Even with the lingering estrangement between Jasper and Milton, he’d never wish death on him, even if it meant Jasper and not Milton would inherit his parents’ wealth and business. It made the need to be rid of Captain Christiansen all the stronger.
‘My almighty father settled a great deal on me to make me resign my commission. I’m suddenly precious to him when before he didn’t think twice about throwing me to the horrors of the Navy at thirteen.’
Jasper exchanged a wary look with Mr Bronson. Captain Christiansen hadn’t been playing with his money, assuming he had any left, but his father’s. In the last few days, Jasper had heard disturbing rumours about the Fenton family’s mounting debts. He had no idea how much of Lord Fenton’s already diminished wealth this man had lost.
Captain Christiansen mistook the silence. ‘Already regretting kicking a future earl out of your filthy gaming room?’ The captain was reaching far into the future and his lineage to try to assert dominance over Jasper—it didn’t work. He’d lost his respect for nobility in America.
‘I’m safeguarding the legacy your father has settled on you, the one you’ll some day pass on to your son.’ The Charton family might not have a manor house or a title, but his parents had always valued family and the business Milton would one day inherit, the one his father had inherited from Jasper’s grandfather.
‘There’s your legacy.’ Captain Christiansen spat at Jasper’s feet. ‘I could crush you and your little hell if I wanted to and I might just.’
He stormed past Jasper and out of the warehouse door into the thick fog blanketing the neighbourhood.
‘I think that went well,’ Mr Bronson said, his voice echoing in the dark room.
‘As well as can be expected. Adam, please return to the gaming room.’
The footman hurried back upstairs.
Mr Bronson took his pipe and tobacco pouch out of his pocket, but did nothing with either. ‘He can’t ruin us. What we’re doing isn’t illegal.’
‘I never thought you a legal scholar,’ Jasper joked, trying to shake off the tight worry in his shoulders and Mr Bronson’s words.
‘I’m not, but I’ve been doing things like this long enough to make a habit out of knowing the local laws. Captain Christiansen can’t do anything more than bluster.’
‘No, but Lord Fenton could make things difficult for us, perhaps even see us closed. Earls have a way of wielding influence. Let’s hope he doesn’t take an interest in his son’s evening activities.’
‘How long do you think the son’s been playing with his father’s money?’
‘I have no idea, but I’ll have to find out.’ He wasn’t sure how he’d do so. He didn’t know anyone in the Admiralty who could tell him when the captain had resigned his commission. Mr Rathbone might be on good terms with someone there, given his vast network of connections, but it would mean telling him about the club. Perhaps Jane could assist him, but he refused to drag her into the mire of his gambling affairs. He’d have to find a way to discover it on his own. ‘How much did Captain Christiansen lose before you cut him off?’
‘Two thousand. I was distracted by another matter and the Hazard man is new and didn’t know to tell me.’
‘Two thousand might be enough to catch an earl’s attention.’ He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. As pleasurable as his mornings with Jane were, he was tired from missing a great deal of his usual sleep since the wedding. ‘Uncle Patrick wouldn’t have been this sloppy about managing clients.’
‘He didn’t exactly manage them as much as he fleeced them,’ Mr Bronson snorted.
‘You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.’
‘I know.’ He shoved the tobacco pouch back in his pocket and tapped the pipe bowl against his palm. ‘What are we going to do about Captain Christiansen?’
‘Nothing tonight.’
‘Then go home and get some sleep.’ Mr Bronson clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You look like hell.’
Mr Bronson headed back upstairs, leaving Jasper alone in the warehouse. He didn’t make for his carriage, but stared at the emptiness around him, broken only by the gaudy furniture in the corner. The furniture was some of the last tangible remnants of his life in Savannah, except for his uncle’s ring on his finger, the one he’d won from a tobacco merchant. Jasper had no idea how much of the man’s other goods and wealth his uncle had taken from him or how much of what Jasper had inherited had come from a similar source.
He twisted the ring on his finger. Jasper might have stopped Captain Christiansen from ruining himself, but he couldn’t say how many other men had thrown their livelihoods away in Savannah without his knowing.
They chose to throw it away.
Even if he left the business it wouldn’t stop men from chasing luck or betting on cards. Better they do it under the eye of a man who intervened rather than the many in London who’d bleed them dry. These were the tales Jasper had told himself, the ones he hoped Jane never discovered.
The Covent Garden Theatre glittered with the thousands of candles in the chandeliers hanging over the audience. Jane could barely sit still or concentrate on the performance on stage. She was too busy watching the audience from her place in the box Jasper had rented for the evening. She and Mrs Hale used to read about performances when she was younger, but Philip had deemed them improper for her to attend. Now she was a married woman, she could come here as much as she pleased and no one could disapprove or look askance at her because of it.
This was exactly how she’d expected married life to be.
‘Are you enjoying yourself?’ Jasper approved the bottle of champagne the footman held out to him and sent the man on his way.
‘I could get used to doing this every night.’ She sat back from the edge of the box where she’d been perched to watch the King carrying on with his mistress, Marchioness Conyngham, in a box across the way. Jane and Mrs Hale used to read about the woman in the papers. She never thought she’d be watching her and His Highness together before her and everyone. Between this spectacle and the glow of the last few nights of lovemaking, she felt