“The right time,” Brandt said. “Sometimes a man needs to bide his time.”
Jack lowered his head and made his own silent vow. He’d get his uncle for selling him to Wardell, no matter how long he had to wait and even if he died trying…
A short, sharp whistle broke into Jack’s thoughts and pulled him to the present. He glanced up and crossed the street to join his friend.
“You all right?” Brandt dropped his cigar and killed it with his boot.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see him?”
Jack nodded.
“But you didn’t let him see you, right?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. So, what did you find out?”
“He has bought himself a fancy new home in Belgrave Square and plans to sell his house on Upper Brook Street.”
“That ain’t the one your grandpa left you, is it?”
“No, that one’s in Kent. Still, I’m going to buy his goddam Mayfair mansion and smash it to the ground.”
“What for?”
“Because I hate the sight of it.”
Brandt wrapped an arm firmly around Jack’s shoulder. “Let’s go home, Cowboy.”
Jack wrenched himself out of Brandt’s grip. “I should go back in there and slit his throat.”
Brandt caught Jack by both shoulders. “I know you’re hoppin’ mad right now, but you gotta have a little patience. Dying is too good for that darn fool. Better to make him suffer and leave him writhing in the dirt like we did with that coward Wardell. These things have got to be done right.”
Jack nodded and Brandt released his grip.
“Smug bastard!” Jack ripped off his bow tie. “Do you know he intends to occupy my grandfather’s estate in Kent after the summer? It’s my mother’s childhood home!” He clenched his teeth. “It’s all I have left of her.”
“Buy it from him too. Hell, you got enough money to do it.”
“I shouldn’t have to buy it.” Jack breathed heavily. “It’s mine already. I inherited it. He stole it from me. I should not be forced to pay him a handsome sum for it.”
“Don’t lose your head worrying about what’s fair and what ain’t. You know as well as I do ain’t nothing fair in this world. You get what you take. We’ll make him pay one way or another.”
Jack breathed evenly and nodded. “I know.”
“Come on. You’ve done enough for one night.” Brandt slung his arm around Jack’s shoulders and coaxed him down the street. “Now tell me, how’d it go with Astyr’s new bride? Did Lady Buntley get you some alone time with her?”
“She’ll be an easy enough conquest,” Jack said.
“I bet she will. Word is your uncle has an old war wound which makes it difficult for him to perform in the bedroom. So, the chances of an heir from him ain’t looking too likely. But I guess he’ll die tryin’,” Brandt chuckled.
“Humiliating him is not enough.” Rage coursed through Jack’s veins again. “He deserves to die for selling me to Wardell like a dog. I’d never seen men whipped or chained up in my life before he put me on that ship, and I sure as hell had never been whipped or shackled either. That bastard chose my Jailer carefully. He found the cruelest brute he could because he needed me dead.” Jack spat the words. “I still wake up in a sweat sometimes, dreaming about that godforsaken place.”
“I understand. I was right there with you, remember?”
They crossed onto Half Moon Street and made their way to the townhouse. “It warn’t all bad. We found each other.” Brandt fished the door key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. “And got Wardell’s gold, too. You took it and turned it into a fortune. Now here you are in Mayfair, England.” The lock clicked, and Brandt pushed the front door open. “We’ll take your uncle for all he is worth, just like we did Wardell. It’s just a matter of biding our time.”
