The cost was of no consequence. Not where she was concerned. He’d not put a price on her head.
Dominic met his gaze. “My mother died because of debts she couldn’t pay.”
“She’s blood, not your enemy’s daughter.”
“Miss Harland is in this predicament because of me.”
Moseley gave a mirthless chuckle. “She was ruined long before you claimed her as your mistress.”
The word hit like a fist to the chest. He kept his expression neutral, but every muscle in him tightened. Moseley had no idea what she was to him. Neither did he, if he was honest.
Still, he admired his instinct for precision.
“A man must make peace with his conscience.”
“Paying the balance won’t bring her papa back. I’d wager you marked his card when you revealed your little secret to theton.”
His throat felt thick. “Secret?”
He’d be damned before he named it.
“That you knew the identity of your mother’s lover.”
The remark stoked a fire in his gut. “You mean the bastard who used her? Who forced her to sell everything”—he stopped short of saying herself—“to repay my father’s debt to him?”
Moseley leaned back in the chair, hands braced across his abdomen. “Your father owed many men money. I believe Harland was just the spawn in the pond.”
Every limb felt heavy. He’d been chasing the informationfor years and had never found proof. “You know the names of these men?”
The moment the question left his mouth, he knew Moseley would use it.
“I acquire debts for a living, Mr Hawke. Have for almost two decades. I know of every seedy transaction that takes place in this city. Your father took out private loans to claim back his vowels. Personal transactions that left no trail.”
Dominic had come to the same conclusion. It was a loan his mother fought to repay, not gaming debts. Harland was the benefactor. But not the only one. Someone else had slipped a noose around her neck.
Moseley wasted no time laying his cards on the table. “Pay Harland’s debt and you may do as you please with his daughter. Our claim will be satisfied.”
Dominic sensed there was more.
“Of course,” Moseley continued, moistening his lips as if preparing to feast, “I can share something I do know. It may put certain questions to rest. Perhaps bring you the peace you crave.”
Dominic firmed his jaw. One wrong move and the cost would be high. “And you want something from me in return?”
Moseley shrugged a shoulder and smiled. “That’s how bargains are made, Mr Hawke. One good deed for another.”
“Then name your price and I’ll weigh the odds.”
He braced himself. It would be steep. He had no doubt.
“Miss Harland,” Moseley began, and the words chilled Dominic’s blood, “has an admirer. Let us call him a common enemy.”
There was only one man as taken with her as Dominic was. “You speak of Mr Irving, owner of?—”
“Irving & Sons Ammunitions. Yes.” Moseley’s upper lipcurled, baring his teeth. “I dislike men who imagine distance frees them from obligation, Mr Hawke.”
He stifled a smirk, keeping the stone mask in place. “Irving owes you money?” If so, fortune had dealt him a better hand than he’d expected.
“Not me. My brother invested in one of his enterprises. I would prefer Irving remain in England until matters are resolved.”
