Page 29 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
Kit and Darius trailed after Lionel. The music started and couples began lining up to dance just as Kit and his friends left the ballroom.
Lennox was waiting for them on the threshold of the doorway to a drawing room and motioned for them to step inside.
“I take it the men you wished to see have had a good look at you?” Lennox asked.
“Yes, they have.”
“Good.” Lennox waved to some chairs near a card table, and the four of them sat. “Tiverton mentioned you needed my help?”
Kit glanced at Darius, who nodded at him encouragingly. “Tell him everything, Kit.”
Kit drew in a breath and started his tale, beginning from the moment Walsh came to him proposing they become business partners. He was careful to leave out any mention of Suzannah. When he finished, Lionel had news to add to the story.
“I trailed Walsh to a residence yesterday,” Lionel added. “It turned out it was a house belonging to Walsh’s sister, the Duchess of Stoneleigh. It seems that she has been having an affair with Balfour for some years. I suspect that Walsh will use that information to blackmail, or at least coerce, Balfour into helping him.”
Lennox folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.
“So it is revenge you seek?”
“Yes.”
“I would warn you against this course of action,” said Lennox carefully. “I’ve seen firsthand how a desire for revenge causes only more suffering.”
“I do not care. They stole my life from me, and I will see to it that they learn what that feels like.” Kit didn’t care if he sounded like a callous bastard.
Lennox looked into Kit’s eyes, judging how much this meant to him, what it was worth. “Very well. As our interests regarding Walsh are aligned, I will argue the point no further. How can I help?”
“Everything Walsh cares about is tied up in his shipping company. We will buy up his debts using third parties,” Kit said. “And when those debts are called in, we wish for you to purchase the company for the lowest price.”
Kit waited, half afraid that Lennox wouldn’t agree.
Finally, the blond baron nodded. “I have been meaning to purchase my own shipping company and I do not like that Walsh has been monopolizing the ports. Send me a message when it’s time to make an offer to him.”
“We will.” Kit stood and shook Lennox’s hand. “Thank you.”
As his two friends stood up, Lennox caught Kit’s arm. The man’s bright blue eyes were like stones beneath the surface of a frozen lake.
“Watch yourself, Kentwell. I know men like Walsh—he will be looking for any opportunity to put you back in Newgate. Or, if he fears for his safety, he may avoid using the law to deal with you and simply have you killed.”
“I consider myself warned.” Kit nodded at Lennox, but the man still held his arm.
“If you must have your revenge, understand this. You may find that once you have it, whatever you feel has been missing will still be gone. The greatest mistake you can make is to believe that vengeance alone is what you need.”
Lennox let go and gave him a nod, but Kit left the room feeling puzzled by Lennox’s words.
When he and his friends returned to the ballroom, he spotted Felix, Warren, and Vincent spread out among the crowd, socializing. Their gazes turned to him discreetly, but he gave no indication that he saw them except for the briefest meeting of eyes. He checked his pocket watch. If he knew Suzannah’s schedule, she would be headed back to her small room at that wretched little boardinghouse.
For a brief moment, his mind wasn’t filled with revenge. Thoughts of Suzannah dominated instead, and he had the strong urge to go to her despite having canceled their session that evening. What would she do if he turned up at her door? Could he coax her into letting him inside her small home again?
“You want to see your green-ribbon girl, don’t you?” Darius asked. The three of them stood a little way apart from the rest of the guests at the edge of the ballroom.
“Who’s the green-ribbon girl?” Lionel asked.
“Indeed,whois she?” Darius teased Kit.
Kit, with no expression at all, replied, “She is Townsend’s daughter. I’ve blackmailed her into painting my portrait.”
Lionel pinched a glass of punch from a nearby tray when a servant passed by. “Painting your portrait? Is that a euphemism for—”
