There was a taut pause. Mr. Spencer glanced incredulously at Charles.
“What on earth is he talking about, Charles? Can’t the boy wait outside?”
“I think not, Mr. Spencer,” Henry said, grinning wolfishly. “I have here copies of your last two quarters’ ledgers. I did a little research, and it seems that while you have raised the prices ofyourmerchandise – making notable profits, I’d imagine – we still charge you the same as we did ten years ago. Twenty years, I would imagine, if I looked further.”
“Now, you look here…”
“Oh, Ihavebeen looking, Mr. Spencer. Mr. Charles Fairfax here has been remarkably fair with you, and you’ve repaid him with underhanded dealings. Unfortunately for you, Mr. Spencer, you are dealing withmenow.”
“Lord Henry…” Charles bleated. “Let’s not be too forward. I had no idea you were going to…”
“I discussed it with Miss Fairfax,” Henry said, in a quick aside. Really, they should have discussed this before, but he was fairly sure that Charles would not have taken him to see Mr. Spencer if he’d disclosed his entire intentions.
“Ha!” Mr. Spencer said, with an air of triumph. “He only talked it over with the girl! Charles, be reasonable…”
“That’s my daughter you’re talking about,” Charles managed, sounding only vaguely peevish. “Notthe girl.”
“Well, I never meant any offence, but Charles, really! This isn’t acceptable.”
“Here are the prices we will charge going forward,” Henry said crisply, pushing a piece of paper across the desk. “All the figures are here for you to peruse at your leisure. The prices are competitive, but more in line what our other clients pay. If you choose not to accept these prices, then of course our contract is at an end. If not, I look forward to a more equal business partnership going forward… I imagine you’ll feel better without acceptingcharity.”
Mr. Spencer blustered and raged at that awful word,charity. He took the paper, though, screwing up his lips when he looked at the figure.
Henry sat back in his seat, vaguely satisfied.
He didn’t have long to enjoy his triumph.
Charles cleared his throat, voice wobbling.
“Henry, I…” he trailed off, face scrunching up with pain.
There was something in his voice that made Henry glance his way, gaze sharpened. The older man was leaning over in his seat, slowly sagging forward. One hand clutched at his left shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric.
Abruptly, all colour drained from his face, and he toppled bonelessly forward like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Charles!” Henry cried, dropping to his knees beside the limp man. He felt frantically for a pulse, and it took a few tries to find one, worrying weak and erratic. Charles’ skin was clammy, still that awful shade of grey, like all the colour had been leeched right out of him.
“You’ve killed him!” Mr. Spencer squawked. “You’ve killed him, you fool, with all your talk of new prices and nonsense!”
“Oh, do close your mouth!” Henry shouted. “Close your mouth and call for a doctor!”
It was eminently clear that Mr. Spencer was not going to be helpful at all. He was racing to and fro in the too-small office, babbling to himself and raking his fingers through his thinning hair in a panic. Henry considered going to fetch help himself, but he very much did not want to leave Charles slumped on the floor in this manner.
“Get something to bring him round!” he snapped. “Brandy, or whiskey, or… or smelling salts!”
“I don’t have smelling salts. I’m not a woman.”
“For pity’s sake, sir, you are useless.” Henry rounded on him. “If it’s not too much trouble, go and make sure our carriage is out at the front. I’ll take him to the doctor’s myself. In the meantime, get something to bring him round. I don’t care what. I don’t particularly want to carry him in my arms to the carriage, but I will if I must. Hurry, man! We’re running out of time!”
That finally galvanized Mr. Spencer into action. He waddled out of the office as fast as his stubby legs would carry him,returning with a little bottle of what really did seem to be smelling salts.
“Carriage is ready. What do you think happened? Charles has never been strong, but…”
“Can’t say,” Henry responded brusquely, waving the bottle under Charles’ nose.
At long last, the man’s eyes twitched behind his lids, and he gave a weak groan.
“Eleanor? Is that you?”
