Page 73 of A Duke Changes Everything
“I believe he’s in with the guests.” The maid led them toward the heart of the partygoers, but before they made it halfway to the room, a male voice stopped them in their tracks.
“You found him.” Iverson stepped out of his study. He offered Nick a somber expression. “We’re ready to begin.”
Inside the room, Nick saw Calvert had come alone.
“You’ve told him?” Calvert asked, gaze fixed on Iverson. “He understands my terms?”
“Not yet.”
The smile that stretched Calvert’s wrinkled face made Nick’s skin itch. “Then do let me have that pleasure.” He finally turned to face Nick. “Your club, Mr. Lyon. Or should I call you Tremayne? That’s my price.”
“You’re insane.”
“Nick.” Huntley laid a hand on his arm, as if to hold him back from striking the nobleman. Nick shrugged him off.
“The club is not for sale.”
Calvert let out a maniacal cackle. “I’m not interested in buying anything from you, Tremayne. You will sign over ownership because if you do not, I shall drag you through the courts until I’ve beggared you, ruined you, left you with nothing but a title you don’t deserve.”
Somewhere inside him, Nick knew there were perfectly rational thoughts. Reasonable, even generous impulses. Mina had unearthed them in a fortnight.
But he couldn’t find a single ounce of generosity now.
All he saw was black. Ink spots flickered behind his eyes. This pompous, corrupt fool of a man thought he could take everything. One threat and he and Huntley and Iverson would fold like a gambler afraid of losing his first bet.
“No.”
Every head in the room pivoted. Every set of eyes locked on his face. Calvert began to tremble as if he had a lit firecracker inside him and its fuse was burning low.
Nick worked to control his anger and speak clearly. “Myterms are these. I forgive your debt. I burn your vowels, you go on your way, and you never enter Lyon’s Club again.”
“Have you been to your club of late? A few empty tables, I’d wager.”
“I’d rather have fewer members than arseholes like you laying down your bets.”
“How dare you!”
The words were familiar. Though Lyle had pronounced them with more dignified horror. Calvert just sounded tremulous. The man wasn’t as sure of the cards he held as he pretended to be.
“I have a strong case,” he insisted. “Others have also agreed to bring suit against you for unfair play at Lyon’s.”
“Then they’re liars too.” Nick sighed deeply. “I’ve no interest in tangling with the courts.” He waited for the twitching grin on Calvert’s face to grow. “But I employ the best solicitors and barristers, and justice rarely smiles fondly on gentlemen who refuse to pay their debts.”
Calvert shifted on his chair. Nick could see the man was wavering.
“Do you not recall what you offered if your debt went unpaid? What will your wife say when I take possession of the hunting box bequeathed in her uncle’s will?” One step closer to the viscount, Nick noticed the sheen of perspiration on his wrinkled brow. “Or the ruby necklace you bought as an engagement gift? Or the diamond ring you gave your mistress?”
Among the pile of Calvert’s vowels, Spencer had included a helpful list describing what the viscount had wagered as collateral. Nick had been employing private inquiry agents for years to look into the property he acquired when nobleman failed to pay their loans. He’d learned long ago that a man’s greatest weakness had nothing to do with pounds and coin, but what the money represented. And who might be harmed by its loss.
“Take his offer, Calvert,” Huntley put in, employing a friendly tone. “Let the man forgive your debts and think no more about the duke and his devilish club.”
Calvert began to tremble like a man taken by fever. Rage carved his face in hideous lines of tension, and then his mouth twisted in a grimace of pure loathing. But, rather than spewing more vitriol, he slumped back in his chair.
“I want forgiveness of Lord Webster’s debt too,” he said on a choked whisper.
“Who?” Iverson had taken the chair behind his desk to write out what Nick assumed was a statement of the agreed terms of their negotiation.
“Lord Calvert’s nephew, I believe,” Huntley said. “We can do that, can’t we, gentlemen? Anything to put this unpleasantness to rest. I for one wish to join the other guests.”
