“It’s unfortunate that it has come under attack in recent days.” Cooke stared directly into my eyes, making my body hum with awareness. His eyes were those of a predator, and a powerful one at that. I wasn’t one to normally watch my step, but I also wasn’t one to run foolhardily into danger. And something told me this man was dangerous.
“We will survive,” I said evenly. I always survived.
He dipped his chin. “I know something about attacks on one’s business. I thought perhaps I could be of assistance?”
“And what is your business, Mr. Cooke?”
He lifted one shoulder. “I am fairly diversified. Entertainment, security services, deliveries. If there’s a way to make money, I’ll find it.”
I sat back. It was rare for a man to speak to me about base profit endeavors, let alone sound proud about it. Thetonacted as though business was uncouth to speak of, let alone engage in. And to converse with a woman about it was nigh on unheard of.
I found his frankness refreshing.
“What does a man of such varied interests think he can offer to me by way of aid?” I tilted my head. “And why would he want to?”
“For purely mercenary reasons, I can assure you,” he said, the barest hint of Ireland in his voice. “Your club’s reputation has taken a hit in recent days. Has membership declined?”
The day after the murder, the halls had been packed, but the curious onlookers had dwindled. I wouldn’t know until the start of the new month whether members would pay their monthly dues. “We’re doing fine.”
“But you can always do better.” Mr. Cooke leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “It would be helpful if those articles inThe Timeswere put to an end, yes? Perhaps a favorable opinion piece instead?”
I matched his pose, planting my elbows on my desk. “How would you accomplish such a task?”
“I have my ways.”
“And what would you require in return for such a service?”
He pursed his lips. “Some guarantees. An agreement not to compete with my business and a percentage off the top.”
My eyebrows slammed together. “You’re starting a women’s club?”
He exhaled heavily through his nose. “Let’s not play games, Lady Mary. I’ve tolerated some of your side ventures becausethey have been on such a small scale. There is potential here, however. Potential I want a part of.”
“What side ventures?”
He dipped his head and arched one dark eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. A look that only managed to irritate me because at the moment I wasn’t in the know. I also wasn’t in control, not of the conversation or the situation, and my irritation grew.
“How much of a cut do you take off the top for your members’… trades?” he asked. “Whatever profit you’re making, I can double it.”
My mind raced, trying to make his words make sense. I failed. “You said you don’t like games, and I agree. Tell me plainly what you want.”
“I want to help both of us maximize our profits.” He gave me a smile, all teeth. “I can set you up with competitive vendors to supply your club and I can eliminate the morality committee as one of your obstacles.”
A chill shivered down my spine. I feared the method he might use to eliminate said obstacle. And something warned me not to remain too long in this predator’s cross-hairs. I stood. “Mr. Cooke, I fear we are speaking at cross purposes, but I can assure you I need no assistance to manage my club. And as to Mr. Ryder, I will handle him myself.” I went to the wall and rang for a footman.
He slowly uncoiled, rising to his feet. His bulk suddenly made my office feel small and much too isolated. “Perhaps you should take some time to think this through. Refusing my services isn’t a decision to be made lightly.”
I was a fool. This was no simple man of business. Mr. Cooke was something else altogether.
“I don’t make any decisions lightly.” Bobby appeared at the doorway, his livery a welcome sight. “Bobby here will show you out.”
With one last piercing look, Mr. Cooke swept from the room.
I sank into my chair, my knees uncomfortably wobbly. I didn’t like not being in the know, and there were undercurrents to Mr. Cooke’s conversation I most definitely did not understand.
My club was threatened, Mr. Cooke had implied something disreputable was going on within these walls, and a woman was dead.
There was too much I didn’t understand. I pressed my palms flat against the cool oak of my desk. And it was time to get savvy.
