The colour drained from Miss Harland’s face like water from a cracked glass. “Ten thousand?”
He’d known the number would be steep. Men like Harland never gambled small.
“That’s what he owes, deary, give or take.”
Miss Harland’s fingers curled into the plush velvet of her seat. He noticed the tension in her grip before she spoke. “I haven’t a penny. My aunt is my only living relative. But I’m sure?—”
“You can’t visit your aunt,” he said. The Moseley brothers would round up all family members. “Sergeant Carter will have a man watching her house.”
Mrs Haggert gave a slow, pitying shake of her head. “Happen youshouldvisit your aunt. The only way to save your neck is to clear your father’s debt. There’s a ship that docks down near Fobbing Marshes. I’m told many young women find themselves aboard, bound for distant shores.”
Mrs Haggert wasn’t exaggerating.
He had seen girls vanish before. Spirited away in the dead of night, sold into god-knows-what by desperate kin or scheming debt collectors, always too late to stop it. Miss Harland would wish she’d married her merchant suitor.
“I’ll pay the debt,” he said sharply.
Mrs Haggert grinned like she’d found a silver sixpence in the plum pudding. “You? But Miss Harland hasn’t a hope of repaying you.”
“She can consider it recompense for her part in the plan.” A man needed a clear conscience to sleep at night.
“Well, well. That’s mighty generous. And you’re barely friends, too. I’d keep the news close to your chest before there’s a stampede of ladies hoping you’ll ruin them.”
He was glad he couldn’t hear Mrs Haggert’s thoughts. She knew firsthand how generous he could be to those facing hardship. He contributed to the upkeep of the hen house whenever he was in town. But this gesture might be easily misconstrued.
Mrs Haggert gripped the arm of the chair and stood. “I’ll see if the Moseley brothers are willing to parley. Until then, you’d best lie low. There’s a costume shop in Long Acre, deary. Maybe think about getting a disguise.”
Dominic rose, as did Miss Harland.
But he wasn’t quite ready to leave.
“Miss Harland has concerns regarding her father’s involvement. That he wasn’t my mother’s only lover.” The last word lodged in his throat. “I know my mother confided in you.”
The slight twitch of the matron’s brow was a mild reprimand. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times. My word is my bond. I never break a confidence.”
Anger flared. “Not even when Miss Harland’s life is in danger?”
“I can’t be accountable for everyone’s mistakes.” She clasped Dominic’s upper arm with her bony fingers, her rings dull with age but worn like weapons. Only a fool would mistake her for frail. “You’ve the strength to take on a Roman battalion. Maybe it’s time you called in a few debts.”
“Are you suggesting I blackmail the good men of the ton?”
“Lives are in danger, you said. You’ve not welcomed the debauched into your home for nothing.”
Dominic held Mrs Haggert’s gaze for a moment, recognising the truth in her words.
Those who partied at Shadowmere paid handsomely to indulge their sins. He knew their wicked deeds, their scandalous secrets. He kept the worst of them on paper, locked in his study.
Power was a currency.
And he intended to spend it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You’ve been quiet since we left Mrs Haggert.” Daphne watched him from the opposite carriage seat, too many questions flitting through her mind. “Were you expecting more from her?”
The formidable woman clearly had a fondness for Mr Hawke. It was there in the softening of her wrinkled lips and the warmth of her gaze, woven into her words and the fabric of their history.
Mr Hawke didn’t answer right away. He gazed out the window as buildings passed in a blur, his mind somewhere far from the interior of the elegant carriage.
