Trevor nodded. “Laffite has been too busy attempting to reclaim what is rightfully his.”
“So Richard alluded.”
“What was Laffite’s stake in all this?”
“He got to choose the bridegroom and therefore gain control of another legitimate front operation.”
“But why hasn’t he done so before now?”
“I suspect because things began to get a little unsettling for him in 1814, the year Vanessa turned eighteen.”
Trevor agreed. “At that time,” he said thoughtfully, “he was more concerned with saving his hide than worrying about further aggrandizement.”
“Precisely.”
“Let me see if I understand this correctly. If Wilmot marries Vanessa, he gets half of Mannion’s business, and right now, he holds notes worth the other half of his business.”
“Correct, because Mannion is an honorable man and could not, in good conscience, pledge his daughter’s dowry for the loans,” Hugh added.
“So right now,” Trevor mused, “if Wilmot marries Vanessa before the harvest, and Mannion defaults on the notes, which I’m sure Wilmot has in some way orchestrated, probably by demanding a payment just before the harvest, Wilmot walks away with the entire business.”
“Exactly.”
“Neat. But what’s to prevent Mannion from borrowing the money elsewhere?”
Hugh shrugged. “A large part is probably pride, though I’d also wager Wilmot’s fuzzed the cards some way.”
“If only there were a legitimate way for Mannion to get the money before the deadline, something Wilmot couldn’t even question. If Mannion were able to pay Wilmot off, the man might also lose his interest in Vanessa if he doesn’t stand to get control of the entire business.”
“You know the city better than I. Any ideas?” Hugh asked.
“None, I’m afraid. The only recourse I can offer is to continue to investigate Wilmot, see if we can discover any unsavory skeletons in his closet that he’d lief remain hidden,” Trevor suggested.
“Hmm . . . . Yes, I agree we should pursue that avenue, but it is a chancy thing at best,” Hugh said, absently tapping the end of his quill against the letter to his brother, his eyes staring blindly down at the squiggles and curls of his handwriting. Slowly his eyes focused, caught unconsciously by one phrase. Straightening in his chair, a devilish smile curved his lips upward, shooting sparks into his eyes.
“What is it?” Trevor asked, lifting his chin off his folded arms.
“This,” he answered, tapping the letter. “I was just telling my brother I might take some time and tour this country, take a trip up the Mississippi on one of those new steamboats. I told the same thing to Wilmot last week."
"So?”
“If I am to be on a long journey, I will be facing unknown conditions of travel. What if I were delayed in returning to the city at harvest time? Then perhaps, to ensure me the best of the cotton harvested, I should prepay. I don’t fear being gulled, for it’s well known that a New Orleans businessman’s word is his honor-bound vow, and certainly, Mannion has an excellent reputation. The prepayment is not a demand of Mannion’s, but a convenience to me, and of course, I am just a crazy Englishman.”
Trevor laughed. “I like it, and it might work. Unfortunately, I hate to see you leave the city to give credence to your story.”
“At this point, Trevor, with the mull of things I’ve made with Vanessa, it might be my best course of action."
"Don’t underestimate her.”
“I don’t. That’s the problem,” he said wryly.
Trevor laughed sympathetically. “Regardless, I feel we should put your plan to work immediately. We’d best see Richard today. Wilmot pulled him aside for another of his private discussions yesterday, and afterward, Richard looked decidedly gray. He may have upped the date again.”
Hugh scratched the back of his neck. “Unfortunately, I agree with you, but the mere thought of possibly facing Vanessa makes the hair on the back of my neck tingle. I daresay she’ll be out for blood.”
‘‘Oh, come now, I’ve never known you to shirk from danger.”
“That’s because the danger has always come from other men. Coming from a woman, it’s a decidedly different matter.”
