Page 1 of Wicked Rivals
Chapter One
“You want me to do what, my lord?”
Ashton Lennox stared at the gray-haired banker sitting across from him in the offices of Drummond’s Bank. He knew what he was asking of the other man was daring—and quite possibly illegal. Nonetheless, retaliation was required against certain players in his field of business. That didn’t mean his demands wouldn’t frighten any banker with good sense.
“It’s as simple as I said, Mr. Reed. I want you to deny Lady Melbourne gold credit if she should come to you seeking a loan.” As he spoke, he let his words come out in that cold, smooth voice that brooked no argument, and he finished by brushing his fingertips over his trousers, smoothing them out. By the age of thirty-three, Ashton had learned how to make men do his bidding with a cool stare and an imperious tone. Those who crossed him or dared to go against his wishes often ended up suffering a blow to their financial positions.
“But, my lord,” Mr. Reed said, his eyes as wide as teacup saucers, “she’s always been a valued client here—”
“I’ve no doubt of it, but you and I have an understanding, do we not?” Despite his tone, it was not a question. Ashton met Reed’s now frightened gaze. “It was I, as you’ll recall, who assisted you in selecting the consols to invest in last year. You were able to buy a country house in Sussex with the profits you made, were you not? I would think you’d like to keep my counsel on future matters.”
The old banker’s throat worked, and he managed a shaky nod.
“I am grateful, of course, but with regard to the lady in question, she is…” He struggled for words.
“Troublesome?” Ashton supplied, the word escaping on a growl as his cool demeanor threatened to unravel whenever he thought ofher.
Lady Rosalind Melbourne was more than just troublesome. As owner of Melbourne, Shelly & Company, she’d spent the last several months stealing bids on shipping lines and purchasing other companies by underbidding him.
The woman was a menace. He’d done everything a reasonable man could do by offering to buy out her shares and attempting to go about his own business, but she’d undermined his every effort—or more to the point, everylegaleffort. Had she been a man, he would have admired her tactics, the way she outflanked him, outmaneuvered him at every turn.
But she wasn’t a man, she was a woman—an intoxicating, beautiful,infuriatingmenace of a woman, with a fiery Scottish temper that pushed him out of his own control.
The situation was not acceptable. Control was his foremost weapon and his first line of defense. Where other men lost their bodies to passions, their minds to obsessions and their hearts to love, he always stayed in control of himself.
Except when it came to Rosalind. If she hadn’t been a woman, he would have called her out long ago and settled their differences on a field at dawn. It took a moment for him to regain his focus on the matter at hand.
“Are we in agreement, Mr. Reed? You will do as I’ve asked?”
Ashton rose from his chair and towered over the banker.
Swallowing hard, the older man nodded. “We will, Lord Lennox. Lady Melbourne will find her requests for credit denied until you direct me to do otherwise.”
Ashton inclined his head in approval and left Reed’s office. He straightened his cravat and retrieved his hat from the rack in the corner outside the office. Once at the front entrance of Drummond’s, he hailed a hackney.
“Where to, my lord?” the driver asked.
“Berkley’s Club.” Ashton climbed inside the coach and leaned back with a sigh.
“Very good, my lord.”
After this morning, an afternoon at Berkley’s was exactly what was needed. He didn’t enjoy using such drastic measures, but there was more at stake here than professional pride. Lady Melbourne’s companies were being used by the only man in England who worried Ashton enough to make him lose sleep at night.
Sir Hugo Waverly had been seen visiting with the captains of Lady Melbourne’s ships, and his men, or men whom Ashton suspected worked for Waverly, had been on her passenger lists more and more frequently. He suspected Waverly was using Rosalind’s companies somehow. It was unclear what Waverly was up to, but Ashton believed it wasn’t good.
There was a secret war going on, one fought not with guns or swords but with eyes and words, and not on open plains but in the shadows. Hugo had declared this war some time ago, and Ashton had been mustering a defense in his own silent way. It was in the best interest of the League to take control of the situation, which at the moment meant taking control of Lady Melbourne’s companies so that he could analyze her business activities and see how Waverly might be linked to them.
Ashton had visited five banks in the city this morning and had secured promises from each that Lady Melbourne would not be able to obtain credit. That way, when his friends called in their notes at each bank, she would not have the means to pay for their notes in gold.
It would crush her. At least temporarily. The woman would not be down for long; Ashton wasn’t foolish enough to believe he could ruin her. But a temporary blow to her income and self-sufficiency would be enough to bring her to heel.
Lady Melbourne brought to heel. A delicious thought indeed.I will own you, Rosalind.
Unable to stop himself, he thought back to the night when he’d caught her alone in an alcove of a theater. The intention had been to talk with her, convince her to leave his companies alone, but then he’d touched her and that plan had vanished, and something more primal had emerged.
He’d tried to use her body’s response to his against her by bringing her to the brink of passion, only to let her suffer without relief as a reprimand for her unorthodox business tactics. It had been a foolish indulgence, yet in that moment he had been unable to help himself.
It also hadn’t worked.
