‘Smith, a towel,’ he growled to the man who had escorted them through the gaming hell and upstairs. The large gentleman moved with surprising athleticism as he ducked out of the office.
Straightening to his full height, Sinclair towered over both women and carefully put the papers down on a dry patch of desk. ‘As I was saying. I didn’tkill your ’usband.’
‘Why should I believe you? You have the perfect motive. Hubert owed you money and couldn’t pay.’ Cynthia put her hand on her hip and crimped her lips in what she hoped was a look dripping of disdain.
Sinclair rolled his eyes. ‘If I killed everyone ’oo fell behind in their payments, London’s ruling class would be culled, as would me coffers. A wise businessman doesn’t eliminate an avenue of income without due cause. And your ’usband was a very lucrative avenue of income. Between ’is gambling debts, the doxies ’e demanded, and the gin ’e drank, I was making a small fortune every time ’e walked through my doors. Only a fool would kill a cash cow like ’ubert Burrows.’
Cynthia narrowed her eyes. ‘Bastard! You should have cut him off.’
Sinclair shrugged. ‘You should ’ave kept better tabs on ’im.’
The nerve of this man!
A vase in the corner started to quiver. Cynthia sent Helena a warning glance. One spilled glass was an accident, but if every vessel holding water in his office simultaneously tipped, that was a problem. Cynthia had enough problems.
‘Hubert didn’t exactly listen to my opinions about his behaviour.’
‘Perhaps ’e should ’ave. Maybe then ’e wouldn’t be brown bread and ’is debt wouldn’t belong to you.’ The man blended compliments and threats like gin and tonic. The incongruence of his perfectly tailored suit and cockney slang was another wrinkle in his persona.
A shiver skated down her spine as his gaze held hers. The moment stretched.
He broke the tension with a nonchalant shrug. ‘Besides, even if ’is debts were a motive, I’m ’ardly the only man with reasons to kill your ’usband.’
Helena’s head tipped to the side. It was a minuscule movement, but Cynthia noted it and wondered. Had she heard something useful?
‘Who else wanted Hubert dead?’
He tsked, shaking his head slowly. ‘A man is only as powerful as ’is secrets.’
Exhaling through her nose, Cynthia stepped back. ‘If you have no information on Hubert’s killer, then the only business that remains between us is settling his debt. As you pointed out, that responsibility falls to me. If you inform me of the sum, I will make arrangements.’ She had no idea what kind of arrangements she could make. Perhaps he would take some of her jewellery as a stopgap. She could sell the carriage. Furniture. Paintings. But the properties were entailed and her monthly income was generous, but not nearly large enough to accommodate the kind of payments she worried he would expect.
Sinclair watched her like a jungle cat, determining how long he wanted to play with his prey. She felt sweat prickle at her armpits. It was worse than being brought in front of the headmistress at her finishing school the one night she sneaked out of her room with a friend to raid the kitchen larder.
Finally, he opened his mouth and spoke an outrageous sum.
Cynthia burst into laughter before she could stop herself. ‘Don’t be absurd. Hubert would never have been so reckless.’ She looked to Helena. If Sinclair was telling the truth, the ledgers she found in Hubert’s safe must only be the beginning of the debts he owed.
Helena’s sharp nod confirmed her fears. Sinclair merely smiled.
Oh. Dear. God.
Of course he had been so reckless.
It was an impossible amount to repay. Even if she retained access to all of Hubert’s wealth – which she most certainly did not – she couldn’t have fulfilled such a debt. Sinclair said Hubert was a cash cow, but he was wrong. He was a selfish, lying pig. Hubert had ruined them and then conveniently gotten himself murdered, leaving her to clean up his mess.
Bastard! It’s a good thing you’re dead, or I would kill you.
‘I told you. The man’s appetites for gambling and ’ores were insatiable. Almost impressive the way ’e gorged ’imself on pleasure.’
Helena must have sensed her distress because she stepped in front of her. ‘Cynthia is right. You should have cut him off. Only a shoddy businessman makes a deal with someone who can’t hold up their end of the bargain. What kind of gentleman are you, Sinclair?’
‘I’m no gentleman.’ He spat the words like bitter grapes. ‘I’d rather soak in piss than be lumped in with the lords ’oo come to my club. Pampered, spoiled fools ’oo’ve never ’ad to fight for anything. I didn’t stop ’ubert Burrows because ’e made it easy for me to own ’im. And I like owning powerful men.’ Sinclair walked around his desk, forcing Cynthia and Helena to give ground. He leaned against the edge of it and crossed thick arms over an equally well-muscled chest as something dangerous glinted in his eyes. ‘But I ’ave an alternative means to repay ’is debt, Lady Burrows. If you’re interested.’
Her stomach clenched as she imagined a rabbit’s might when looking at the sharp smile of a fox.
Helena caught Cynthia’s gaze, eyes wide with shock. Whatever he was thinking must be dreadful to cause such a reaction. If only she shared Helena’s gift and could read his mind. Or peek into Helena’s thoughts, for that matter. Instead, she had to settle for asking.
‘What do you suggest?’ No matter how awful his deal might be, she would be forced to take it or be under his control. A devil’s bargain, indeed. Just as his club indicated. The bastard had stacked the deck. With Hubert dead, he would own Cynthia instead. One more man dictating her choices. It was enough to make her contemplate drastic measures.
