Page 59 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
“Good. Let’s plan to depart in two hours,” Kit said. The quicker they could leave London, the better. He only prayed his enemies would not discover his plans.
* * *
Maynard Walsh staredat the pile of letters he had opened a short time ago. His heart pounded, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth as his body started to spiral into terror. He held the top letter in one trembling hand as he reread the words.
Dear Mr. Walsh,
Your line of credit at our bank has not been extended at this time. A private group of investors have purchased your debts from us and have notified us of their desire to call in your debt. You have one week to pay the following amount—
Maynard droppedthe letter and swallowed hard. Had it just been one debt, Thomas could have assisted him, butallof his debts had been called in at every institution. He had no way to pay that much back for several months, andthatwas assuming he could operate his shipping company without a single expense, which was impossible. He had dockworkers, sailors, and captains to pay, and those were just the most immediate expenses.
Kentwell was behind this, he had to be. It was too orchestrated, too perfectly timed. A well-delivered death blow.
He was finished. He couldn’t recover from financial ruin like this. Maynard’s gaze strayed to the drawer of his desk that held his pistol. He stared at it for a long moment, thinking of how easy it would be to use.
No, he should speak to Thomas first. Thomas always had a plan. When they had learned that the captain Thomas had paid to kill Kentwell had returned to England, Thomas had sent men to help the man “disappear.”
Maynard collected the letters and shoved them into a small leather case before he left his office. Thankfully, Thomas was at home for once that evening. Maynard was used to spending hours trying to track him down, either at his club or the various brothels across London. When the butler showed Maynard into the drawing room, he found Thomas sitting on a settee scowling, a snifter of brandy in his hand.
“What is it, Maynard? Your sister is on her way, and you know I don’t like to be disturbed when I have my time with her.”
Maynard opened the leather case over a nearby reading table, and the creditors’ letters spilled out.
“What are those?” Thomas demanded.
“What do you think?” Maynard snapped, his own temper flaring. “My credit lines have been closed. My debts have been called in.”
“I’m sure I can cover them—”
“No, you can’t. It’s all of them, Thomas.Every last one.” He enunciated the last three words heavily.
Thomas set his glass of brandy down and stood, his gaze distant. “It’shim.”
“Yes.”
“Then I have more bad news. The captain, James Murray, still lives. It seems Kentwell came to his rescue and spirited him away. Five of my best men ended up unconscious in a tavern.”
Maynard broke out into a cold sweat. “He’s too strong, Thomas. We never should have sent him away. The man is a bloody mountain.” When he had glimpsed Kentwell at the Lennox ball, he’d been terrified of the sight of him. The young, innocent lordling he had lured into his scheme was gone. Kentwell was now an unstoppable force of vengeance.
“If Murray had done what I paid him to do, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Thomas paced the room, hands clasped behind his back. Suddenly he stilled, and a cruel smile stretched his lips. “Are you familiar with the legend of Achilles, Maynard?”
“No, can’t say that I am.” Maynard had always been more of a numbers man than literature.
“According to myth, Achilles’s mother dipped his infant body into the river Styx, which made him invincible to injury, all except for his heel, which was where she held on to him when she plunged him into the water. That one small spot was his weakness. What we need to do is strike out at Kentwell’s weak spot. We must find his heel.”
“But you said yourself he couldn’t be beaten by your best men.”
“Every man has a weak spot. Even a strong man cannot turn a knife in the back or a shot in the dark. When we strike, he must not see it coming, but it will bring him down. I’ve been tracking his movements, and we will find a time when he is vulnerable. We must be patient, that is all.”
Maynard frowned. That was easier said than done. Balfour didn’t seem to understand the depth of trouble they were in.
“I... think we should sell the company.”
Thomas whirled on him. “What?”
“We cannot operate without capital. Lord Lennox sent me an offer to buy our company.”
“Don’t be a fool. Do not sign anything. Once Kentwell is dead, I think you’ll find those calling in your debts will become more... lenient.”
