CHAPTER THREE
Connor focused on his friend as the man took the empty seat across from him. His lean, almost-feminine form folded easily into the sturdy wooden chair, and Connor noted that Hamp’s appearance hadn’t changed in all the years they’d known each other. He still had the boyish look of his youth, his hair the darkest ebony with nary a grey strand to be seen.
“I do not understand why you insist on meeting at this insufferable tavern, as if I am someone who frequents these types of establishments.” The man’s gaze flitted around the crowded room.
You are the only thing that is insufferable here. Connor couldn’t help but take in his surroundings. The tavern was a respectable place, as far as country taverns went. The family who ran the public house and inn kept a clean yard, edible food, and tidy rooms. People in the area didn’t ask for more. “Unlike yourself, I seek to keep our dealings a secret. People here are not prone to gossip, as I meet many business clients herein.”
Both men paused when the barkeep’s daughter arrived to take their drink order.
“Right nice see’n ye, Mr. Cale,” she said and turned her smile on Hamp. “And you, m’lord, always be a pleasure to serve ye.” She winked.
Connor swore she licked her lips. Subtlety was not Darla’s forte, and her father well knew it. It was a wonder the barkeep hadn’t sent the girl to live with relatives further removed in the country, but seeing as she drew in a crowd, Connor was willing to bet that they overlooked her indiscretions.
“It is always a pleasure to be in your company as well, Miss.” His friend’s lecherous smile mirrored Darla’s.
“We will both have scotch,” Connor said and waved his hand in dismissal.
With a small pout of her painted lips, Darla moved back toward the bar and her father.
Hamp watched as she sauntered away, her hair moving in time with her ample hips. Connor guessed his associate wasn’t so against this particular establishment after all.
Connor noticed the man’s perfectly tied necktie and impeccably tailored riding coat and a pang of jealousy surged through his body like a bolt of lightning. There had been a day when he had dressed similarly, when women had looked at him the way Darla lusted after this man—as he had always hoped Lady Vi would look at him. One day, he promised himself, she would—and it would be too late.
“I can only be away for so long. What did you need to discuss?” Connor asked, shifting Hamp’s focus from the girl.
Reluctantly, his business partner returned his attention to Connor. “You should learn to enjoy life a bit more.”
“I do not enjoy life because I do not bed the local barkeep’s daughter?” Connor heard the tiredness in his own voice.
“That is only one way you do not enjoy life. Remember when we used to run about town?” Hamp laughed. “Those were good times. Now, you work yourself to the bone for that ungrateful girl.”
“You should not complain about my employment with Lady Viola.” Anger infused Connor’s voice. Taking a calming breath, he continued. “If not for Foldger’s Foals, we would not have been able to successfully start our—”
Darla returned with their drinks and cut off the conversation.
“Here is ye drinks, boys.” Lust dripped from her lips, and she directed her words at Connor’s companion. “Ye better be find’n me before ye leave.”
“I always do, my sweet,” Hamp said.
The door to the tavern swung open and Connor trained his eyes on the new arrivals. He didn’t recognize the pair dressed in well-worn breeches and overshirts.
“I be waiting for ye, m’lord.” The girl leaned over the table to better display her assets as she wiped a bit of spilled ale from the table.
“Darla,” the barkeep called, a gruff expression on his weathered face. “Some new customers do be need’n a drink.”
She glanced over her shoulder with a huff before turning one last smile on Connor’s companion and moving to the recently arrived pair.
“Has Lord Featheringdon contacted you yet?” Connor asked to attract Hamp’s attention again.
“Yes, I received a letter from his man of business with the post yesterday. He is sending his stable master to acquire a few foals.” Hamp knocked back his scotch in one large gulp and his face pulled into a grimace. “Is this scotch or horse piss?”
“We are not in your exclusive club in London—”
“Speaking of London, I am in need of more money . . .” The man’s voice trailed off as he waited for Connor to offer up more coin.
“I have siphoned off as much as possible without her noticing. There is no more money to be had.”
“There is always coin to be had. If I am to impress potential clients in town, I must have money.”
“Have you blown through your inheritance already?” Connor could not help but ask. His curiosity about Hamp’s financial status had grown over the last year. “From what I hear, your mother is living quite comfortably on her stipend.”
“Do not question me about my financial well-being. This is about our business.” He tilted his tumbler back and drained his glass, his knuckles white as he grasped the glass a bit too tight.
Connor had struck a nerve. He must remember his longtime friend could only be pushed so far—Hamp was not a man Connor wanted to be at odds with. “There is little money coming in and much more leaving to feed and pay the last remaining staff.”
“So, she is close to shutting down?” Hamp asked.
“Very close.”
“And you have copied her client list in its entirety?
“Of course.” Connor pulled a folded sheet of paper from his coat pocket. “All thirty-six clients and their direction.”
He made to grab the parchment from him, but Connor shifted the list out of his reach.
“This is not yours. Yet.”
“Why ever not?”
“It is too soon yet to contact anyone. Another fortnight and it should be clear that Foldger’s Foals will be no more. It will be far easier to persuade most of her clients to purchase from us then.”
“I knew there was a reason I aligned myself with you.” He raised his hand to signal for Darla to bring him another scotch. “Another?” When Connor shook his head, the man held up one finger in the direction of the bar.
“I only think it is important that we are not too obvious in convincing her clients to instead purchase from D & C.” Connor lowered his voice as another man sat at the table closest to them. “We cannot risk a client going to Lady Viola.”
“I doubt there is much she can do at this point. I guess she could travel to London and spread word of how you deceived her, but then she would only be exposing herself.”
He despised when Hamp was correct. It irritated him even further when he knew it.
“Is this all you wished to discuss?” Connor asked.
“I needed to verify that you and I were still working toward a common goal.”
Darla shimmied up to the table and set down the man’s drink. “Will that be all, gentlemen?”
“Yes,” Connor responded before the man could draw out their useless meeting any longer. “How much do I owe?”
“Don’t ye be worrying ‘bout that, Mr. Cale. Ye friend more than pays the tab.” She giggled and moved on to the men at the next table.
“I do not mind working off the tab,” he said with a wink.
That’d be the only thing the man had ever earned in his life, Connor couldn’t help thinking.
Connor stood. “You have not changed, my friend. If there is nothing else, I will be on my way. I must return to feed the foal.” He dropped a curt bow and turned to leave.
Before he took a step, the man grabbed his arm, halting him.
“I need more money to continue in London,” he spoke low.
“I plan to travel to London soon myself. I will bring you funds then.”
“Make sure you do, or I will be forced to quicken the downfall of Foldger’s Foals.”
Connor made no comment, seething
at the impossible position he’d been put in. But if it was a choice between Lady Vi or his own return to society and respectability, he knew he wouldn’t hesitate. Connor would choose his own needs above all else.