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Authors: Madeline Hunter

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“My attacks? You are mad. Completely insane. I will have to speak with the bishops about that, and seek counsel on whether your fellow peers should be made aware of your condition.”

“Are you threatening me, Meadowsun?”

“I am concerned for you, that is all.”

“You would be wiser to be concerned for yourself. Winterside told me all about your involvement in the attempts to dissuade Miss Montgomery. He described his meetings with you, and your insistence that he approach me to request my help.”

“Nonsense. He would not dare such a thing.”

“He would not dare to cross you, you mean? He did not like the way you arranged for his to be the visible face in this game. He realized that the finger might point to him if anyone sought a culprit for those—what did he say you called them the other day—episodes regarding Miss Montgomery.”

Leona rose from the bench. Her eyes blazed. “Episodes?
Episodes?
You hounded my father to his grave. You nearly ruined him, and we spent years waiting for the next strike, the next fire or scuttled ship. You tried to run me down with a horse here in London and set fire to my house, and you thought of these crimes as
episodes
?”

An expression of disdain twisted Meadowsun's face. He looked at Leona with revulsion.

He turned on his heel. “I will not be insulted by this woman. If you have more to say, come to my chambers, Easterbrook. But leave your whore here.”

Christian gestured for Tong Wei to join them.

“Sit here. Wait for me,” Christian said to Leona.

“I will not. I am going in there and I am going to claw that man's eyes and—”

“You will sit here and wait.” He physically emphasized the command by pressing her shoulders until she was on the bench again. “Tong Wei, do not leave her side.”

“You said I could confront him,” Leona protested.

“And you have. I will do the rest alone.”

“I want him to admit he did it. I want him to pay.”

“He will pay, Leona. I promise.”

He looked back and checked on her twice while he crossed the courtyard to the building's entry. It would be just like her to follow him.

He made his way to Meadowsun's chambers. He closed the door after he entered. Meadowsun sat near a window, his profile limned by the bright light outside, his face resolute and his eyes mean.

Christian walked over to him. He grabbed him by the coat, stood him up, and smashed a fist into that creased, astonished face. Meadowsun landed back in his chair with a bad fall. He scrambled to right himself, holding his hand against his jaw. Christian hit him again.

“That is for the insults out there to Miss Montgomery, and the way you have endangered her. Be glad you are a cleric or I'd call you out and kill you.”

Christian walked away and forced some calm. Meadowsun collected the fear that had crashed out of him and tucked it away.

Christian gazed down at the man. “The opium trade is not illegal under our laws. Nor the secrecy. Even the attacks on Montgomery—they were long ago and far away and I doubt I can prove your hand in it. Recent events in London, however, were neither legal nor distant. And this company smuggles more than opium, and its ships are not only going to China. You will hear what I say and answer my questions or I will see you answer for all of that with your freedom.”

“Then have your say. Ask your damned questions.”

“My father kept records of the payments he received. I assume as much or more profit was made in the years since he died. I know how much you stole from me. It adds up to a significant fortune that I did not receive. Why would you risk being caught in such a theft?”

Meadowsun carefully touched his jaw and winced. “You could not be trusted.”

“And Denningham and Rallingport could be?”

Meadowsun just looked at him.

“Ah, I see. It was not just me. It was them too, after they inherited. You kept it all.”

A silence hung while Meadowsun weighed his situation, and his words. “The sons were not the fathers. I could tell as you one by one took your places at the whist table. Denningham was dim-witted. Rallingport was a drunk. You—well, you were too odd to trust. I stole nothing. The initial investments had been repaid many times over.”

So Denningham had been ignorant all along. There was some relief in hearing that.

Meadowsun smiled slyly. “You won't accuse me. I do not care what Winterside said. You don't dare air this in
any court. The world would know then. Everyone would know that your father started it all. It was all his idea, and the rest of us bought in after it was well underway.”

“That might be true. Or not. If it comes to it, though, I will let a judge sort the facts. I cannot allow you to continue these crimes now, not to protect his name or mine.”

Meadowsun sneered. “See, this is why I did not trust you. Why your father's share in the partnership was buried with him. There was the danger you did not take after him, but after that madwoman of a mother.”

“You must like being thrashed, Meadowsun. You should be careful. You never can be sure how far a madman will go once he starts.”

Meadowsun's face fell. He eyed Christian more cautiously.

“Why did you publish that death notice?”

“Her father was a nuisance, just like her. He was one of the early shippers contracted by our man in Calcutta, then he had a change of heart. He turned against the trade completely, like a damned reformer. We didn't care about that. There are always other shippers. But he had to go writing all those letters, and trying to ferret out who we were. He wrote to the Company. He wrote to members of Parliament. He began to talk to captains, and suspect our shipments into England and France. When he died, it was in our interest to make sure all those recipients of his letters knew he was gone.”

“You could not resist indicating he died of that which he condemned, though.”

“It would call into question his state of mind when he made his accusations.”

Satisfied that he had all of Leona's answers for her, and a few he needed for himself, Christian made himself comfortable on a chair. “So, how would you like to pay me this money?”

Meadowsun's face fell in shock. “
What?
You come at me like an angel of justice, and all you really want is your share? This is about
money?”
He cackled. His eyes cleared, relieved at this most ordinary goal.

“I would like to settle it.”

“I am certain we can work something out.”

“I would like it now.”

“You really are mad. You are speaking of years’ worth of payments. It isn't just sitting in my library, to be handed over.”

“That is unfortunate. That puts you in a bad spot, doesn't it?”

Meadowsun stared at him. Emotions finally burst out of him. Dismay. Panic.

“I could force the matters through the normal means. Both those of the money, and the attacks on Miss Montgomery. Perhaps a less public solution would be better. You remember how it goes. You have sat around that whist table enough in your years, while alternatives to the king's courts were debated and chosen. Our friend in Kent, for example.”

“There were nine others at that table, sharing the decisions. Not just one mad marquess.”

“Imagine if you will that Mr. Montgomery sits with me, aiding my judgment. Here is what I propose. First, you will resign your position. When this comes out, you do not want to embarrass the archbishop.”

“Comes out?”

“In
Minerva's Banquet.
Miss Montgomery will be explaining this company's opium trade in her last letter. She will name names. She thought to hold back for my sake, but I insisted she go forward. The story will bring her lessons about the opium trade home to her readers as nothing else will.” He paused. “If you are very good, and do as I say, it will only be the opium smuggling that will be published. You will face moral accusations for it, but not criminal ones. The rest of the Four Corners smuggling, however, must end too.”

“No one gives a damn about the opium trade. They want their tea and they don't care how many Chinamen die for it.”

“They will not be able to claim ignorance at least. Second, my brother Hayden will investigate the extent of this business over the years, and you will aid him, so we determine the full amount due. My solicitor will meet with yours to determine the value of your property and financial holdings. You will pay what you can and give me a note for the rest. Whatever I receive will be donated to charities recommended by some good ladies I know.”

“You bastard. You want to ruin me.”

“You will be left with enough to live modestly, but I will hold a note for whatever I do not take. You will be out of this trade, however. You will be out of the church and out of London. Mr. Winterside has agreed that the Company will be watching for me, to make sure you do not start it up again. If you do, or if any misfortune befalls Miss Montgomery or her brother, I will call the note and leave you beggared.”

Ugly anger poured out of Meadowsun. “You are a
fool if you think it matters if I am in or out of it. Montgomery was a fool to think he could stop it. There is profit in opium because people want it. They will kill for it.”

“That may be true, but the profit will not be yours. You brought misery to thousands. In order to preserve the flow of money, you destroyed a man and you endangered the woman I love. Be glad I am not killing you for the last crime alone.”

His business done, Christian got up and walked to the door.

“I was wrong about you,” Meadowsun snarled. “You
are
like him. Just as ruthless. Just as cold. I wish I had known earlier. We might have worked well together. The son is the father after all.”

Christian paused. He looked back. “Yes.”

He almost stumbled over Leona outside the door. She had followed. She had been listening, and Tong Wei stood twenty feet away.

She took Christian's arm and they walked back to the garden.

“No, you are not,” she said. “You are not like your father.”

“They will leave now?” Tong Wei asked. “I did not fully understand the meaning of their title before these last days. They are called footmen because they are always under one's feet.”

Leona laughed. “Even now they await the carriage to bring them back to Grosvenor Square.”

Isabella frowned at the announcement. The departure that gave Tong Wei relief obviously saddened her.

“You must admit that it will be good to have some privacy again, Isabella,” Leona said. “I welcome that, but I know why you do not.”

Even better would be to live without the sense that she must scrutinize every face she passed. The afternoon at Doctors’ Commons had relieved her of a caution she had known half her life. Its absence made her a little giddy but also a little lost.

It was odd, how achieving a goal and purpose could empty one out. The smile would not leave her face, but in her heart there was a void where before unbending determination had thrived. Dismay simmered there as well, at how this resolution left her adrift.

“We can sail back now,” Tong Wei said. “If the winds are favorable, you can return before the trading season in Canton is very far underway.”

How like Tong Wei to remind her that she was not adrift at all. Her crusade was over, but her life and purpose were not.

“Yes, we can sail home.” She counted back the months. It took at least five to sail to China in the most favorable conditions. To have any chance of arriving before winter they would have to leave very soon.

Isabella's face fell more. She ran from the room. Tong Wei watched her flee.

“She was foolish to love him,” he said.

Leona's throat tightened. She rose, to follow Isabella and offer comfort, and to take some comfort herself. “It is never foolish to love, Tong Wei.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX

C
hristian was surprised to see his carriage outside the door that night. He had called for his horse. The presence of Mr. Miller explained everything.

“I smell rain.” Miller made the excuse as he held open the carriage door.

“Playing footman tonight, Miller?”

“I thought I would accompany you, sir. To make one last check of the property and be sure nothing is amiss.”

BOOK: The Sins of Lord Easterbrook
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