Concern filled the older man’s eyes as he jerked a nod toward the parlor. “In there, my lord. Mind your back, aye? Them two bear watching.”
Drake smiled. He had always liked Mr. Thomassan. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate the warning.” He removed his hat and tugged off his gloves as he entered the small, private parlor reserved for a select few who patronized the inn.
The businessmen had seated themselves at the far side of the room with their backs to the wall, facing the doorway. Since no one trusted them, they trusted no one either.
“Lord Wakefield. Well done. Our clients are rarely a day early in making their payments.” The tallest of the pair, the pale Mr. Rum, dressed all in black and resembling an undertaker with the beak of a buzzard, didn’t bother to rise from his chair. He merely puffed harder on his cigar, then waved it toward the empty settee beside them. “Come, my lord. Have a seat. Would you care for some refreshment?”
“I would not.”
“Now, now,” said Mr. Catherty, the slovenly other half of the moneylenders’ partnership, “that came out rather curt. Are wefractious today, Lord Wakefield?” He snorted and made a wheezing sound that Drake took to be a laugh. “Or should we say Mr. Pemberton? That would be more accurate, would it not?”
Drake squared his shoulders and resettled his stance. “Indeed, it would. Just as I intend to tell the Bow Street Runners when I report your blackmail scheme as soon as I reach London.”
Both men went deadly quiet, their eyes narrowing.
“You would risk prison?” Catherty asked.
“Banishment from Society?” Rum added. Each of them snuffed out their cigars and leaned forward as if about to launch themselves at him.
“I am already imprisoned by the two of you, and Society shuns me because of my destitution.” Drake shrugged, assuming an air of bitter nonchalance. “What would be the difference?”
Pursing his lips, Rum rubbed his hands together. “Difference is, you would lose that young Broadmere hen.”
“Yes,” Catherty said, chiming in with another wheezing snicker. “Fine, plump bit of skirt, that one, and we heard tell you like her for more than just her dowry.”
Their hired jackals had to have gotten that information from Uncle George. Drake would deal with the careless old man once he returned home. He jutted his chin higher. “Lady Felicity deserves better than me, anyway. Honor demands I step away from her until my problems are resolved.”
Rum hooted and slapped his knee. “Till your problems are resolved?”
Catherty chuckled and relit his cigar. “What makes you think your problems willeverbe resolved?”
“As I said, I intend to go to the authorities. While moneylending is quite legal, extortion is not.”
Both men relaxed back in their chairs and exchanged disturbing glances. Rum stretched out his long, spindly legs and crossed them atthe ankles, while Catherty adjusted the cushions around his wide girth.
It was Catherty who spoke first, pointing the chewed tip of his cigar at Drake. “You care about that fine, plump hen. Don’t think we don’t know that.”
Rum grinned, revealing large, yellowed teeth that made him resemble a laughing mule. “We got it on good authority that you are quite smitten with that one.”
“Lady Felicity will know the truth of everything before I ride to London to speak with the authorities.”
Catherty shrugged. “Do you think we care if she knows the truth or not? That’s between you and her.”
Rum slowly tamped out his cigar again, then shoved it into the plate so hard that it split. “But we know you would care should anythinghappen to her.” He snorted again. “So would that family of hers, and those Broadmeres are rich as Croesus.”
Drake lunged forward, only to be caught by powerful hands and dragged back a few steps. A pair of men who rivaled the size of bears, dressed all in black like their employers, stood on either side of him, clutching him by the arms. He fought them to no avail. “If you attempt to harm Felicity, I will hunt you down and make you rue the day you were born.”
Rum and Catherty widened their eyes in feigned shock, each of them gasping before they broke down into laughter. “Did we say any harm was to come to her? From us?” Rum clutched his chest as if he couldn’t imagine such a thing.
Catherty shook his head. “We merely said we knew you would be most upset should anything ever happen to her.” He huffed yet another wheezy snort. “That weren’t no lie or insinuation.”
“You will stay away from her.” Drake stomped the instep of the man to his left, ripped his arm free, and gut-punched the man to his right. Before he could do them further damage, they recovered and dragged him even farther back from Rum and Catherty. “You will stayaway from her,” Drake repeated through clenched teeth.
“Your payment is due, Lord Wakefield,” Rum said with icy calmness.
“Should you default on your payment,” Catherty said, “any and all repercussions will be no one’s fault but your own.” He smacked his sausage-like lips, then set his cigar between his yellowed teeth. “Think hard on that, old chum.” He nodded at the door. “Gentlemen, do be good enough to show Lord Wakefield out.”
The pair of ruffians dragged Drake out of the parlor, through the inn’s reception area, and out the door, before shoving him free and returning to their unscrupulous employers. No small man himself, Drake was tempted to go after them and do as much damage as he could.
