Robert nodded. As much as it pained him to admit it, James Ashton was right. This meeting today was a victory of sorts. Hollow, but a victory, nonetheless.
The door of the boardroom opened and a clerk, clad in the company uniform of all black, appeared. He took one look at Robert and James and bowed his head. “Mister Ashton, Your Grace, they are ready for you now.”
Ignoring the obvious insult of having been addressed after a mere mister, Robert rose from the uncomfortable seat. He took a moment to let the blood flow back to his ass and legs, then bent and picked up his leather satchel.
The bag was empty, but Victoria had insisted on him bringing it. She’d said it added a certain gravitas to his look. After all he had put his wife through, he wasn’t in a position to argue.
As he followed James Ashton into the boardroom, Robert’s thoughts turned briefly to the woman who had captured hisheart. He owed it to her and to their combined future to make certain he settled matters today. The memory of Victoria firing her pistol at that man, and then seeing him drop to the ground dead, would haunt Robert for the rest of his days.
Letting out a slow, calming breath, he took the seat offered to him by the clerk. He politely waved away the offer of tea. Coming here in order to make a deal with the devil was bad enough, but he drew the line at breaking bread with them.
At the head of the table, seated on ornately-carved, crimson-velvet-covered chairs, the three directors of the Honorable East India Company didn’t bother to acknowledge his arrival. Robert took one look at the stacks of papers which sat in front of them and stifled an indignant huff. These people were no better than well-dressed pirates hiding behind laws which they’d helped parliament to write and enact.
At least pirates had a code of honor. These men represent a company which has built its immense fortune on stealing the wealth of other countries, and still enslaves people.
He was nauseous. Angry with himself for having been so reckless and finding himself in this situation.
More papers were shuffled around the table. The message was clear: he was just another item on their agenda for the morning.
But they wouldn’t be talking to me if I didn’t represent a clear and present threat to their business.
The black-suited clerk was handed a piece of paper by one of his superiors. The man then walked with measured steps to where Robert sat and dropped the paper in front of him with little to no ceremony. “If Your Grace would be so kind as to read the terms of our settlement.”
Robert’s gaze took in the wording which he and James had come up with to put to the East India Company. The terms were simple. He was to immediately cease stealing from them,and to hand back any and all spice remaining in his possession which belonged to the company. In return the East India would no longer pursue any action against him. The original submitted letter had been transformed with flowery legalese, but he understood it well enough. Nothing of any substance had changed.
“Very well, I agree to the terms of the letter. Your goods are to be returned to you, and in return, you will call off the dogs,” said Robert.
James leaned in close. “Remember what I told you. Don’t sign anything. Just offer them your handshake.” Even James Ashton, long-time career man of the East India didn’t trust his employer.
Hopefully there would come a day when the British government finally put this gang of villains out of business. Robert could only hope he lived that long.
The director seated at the head of the table cleared his throat. “A vulgar way of putting it, but yes. Your Grace has overstepped the mark and now we are siding with the umpire and calling it a no-ball.”
Robert pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth. He hated it when people used cricketing analogies. There was nothing sporting about the way these criminals did business.
Get this over with, and then go home to Victoria. That’s all that matters.
Before he’d met his wife, he would never have even considered talking to the members of the East India Company, let alone agreeing to a cessation of hostilities. But Victoria, as she often did, had the right of it.
If she hadn’t met him and attempted to make an honest...ishman out of him, then at some point, matters would have eventually come to a head. On a dark road far from London, a brave company man would have stood his ground and puta bullet in Robert’s head. As it was, only Victoria’s firm intervention had saved him from that fate.
It was odd that the East India hadn’t made mention of their own missing man. Robert suspected they knew he’d met a dark end, but they had decided their agent was expendable and not worth the bother.
And they probably thought the same about my wife.
Under the table, Robert clenched his fists. He’d love to punch someone. Preferably one of the smug-faced asses who were looking down their noses at him from the other end of the table. His temper began to rise.
James’s thumb dug sharply into Robert’s hip. “What you are feeling now is the battle between your rational self and your pride,” whispered James. “Don’t let your pride win.”
Those words of caution had the desired effect. Robert took in a deep breath and let his fingers relax.
I will do this for Victoria, for my wife and her love.
He picked up the piece of paper and rose slowly from his chair. Taking care not to show any emotion, he made his way to the top of the boardroom table. When he reached the directors, Robert bent and slid the piece of paper across the highly polished oak surface, stopping it in front of the chairman. “Gentlemen, we have an accord.” He righted himself and held out his hand.
The chairman looked down his nose at Robert’s outstretched hand then rose to his feet. From the glint in his eye and sly smile on his lips, it was clear he considered that he and the company could now claim victory. The Honorable East India Company had beaten the Duke of Spice.
The merest of handshakes followed. “So you will return what is ours and vow never to steal from us again?”
