Compton smiled but said nothing.
“Maintaining power demands control of oneself and the capacity to calculate reasonable risks. Knowing, too, when to cut one’s losses and walk away. I have never found myself in the position of whatever poor sod handed over Thérèse to you in lieu of money owed.” He hardened his tone. “Nor will I.”
“And yet you join us for gaming here.”
“I’m not here tonight for the gaming. Not even for the meal, in truth, nor are you and Dubois.” A shade condescending now. “Let us stop pretending otherwise.”
Compton lifted his chin in acknowledgment.
“I have little interest in political maneuvering, aside from what I gain personally. It seems you trust Dubois, having worked with him since before the wars ended. I do not trust him that far, myself. Not yet.” Whatever Compton might say in private to Dubois afterwards, suspicion and doubt served him better than sycophantic agreement with either man. To that end, he would play it to the hilt with Compton. “Should we three come to an agreement, most of my direct dealings in London will be with you, yes? Then let us speak plainly between ourselves while the two of us have an opportunity.” He pointedly looked towards Dubois.
“Dubois does not know everything with which I occupymyself, nor even most of it, any more than I know all of his schemes.” Compton leaned in conspiratorially. “It is possible you and I may work out arrangements to our own satisfaction that are transacted entirely on British soil.”
Layers upon layers of secrets and double-dealing, but with men like Compton and Dubois, it was to be expected. Neither represented himself honestly. Then again, none of them were honest men—himself included.
He sipped his wine, making a show of studying Compton’s face before responding. “I am open to the possibility, depending on what you have to say.” Let Compton court Beaumont rather than the other way around.
“As you noted during our meeting at Le Repaire, I have a shipping company. It serves me well for many reasons.”
“Not least of which is the ease of conveying anything a man might wish to transport.” He’d been lounging against the wall; now he straightened up. “And to whichever port.”
“Yes. Between London and Boulogne serves me well for my agreements with Dubois. There are ways of avoiding high tariffs on that route. But as for other interests of more global scale? Let us say for starters that the Isle of Man provides many opportunities to redistribute wealth.”
So his smuggling network encompassed more than whatever profit he turned on the Continent with Dubois. Not something the Foreign Office knew about, so far as Nate had been briefed, but also not a surprise. He’d pass along the information; Customs would be interested. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked bluntly.
“More plain talking, then.” Compton smiled. “Your father has access to information that will help me increase my profits and expand the scope of my westward enterprises. I do not anticipate tying myself to Dubois forever.”
Interesting.Compton was looking to break with Dubois andsaw Beaumont as a possible means to do so.
Or alternatively, he was setting a trap.
“Certainly I might be induced to keep my eyes open for anything of specific interest to you, but not without good cause. What’s in it for me?”
Compton’s expression did not change, save for a gleam in his eyes. Due to a potential new partnership? Or because the bait was taken and the trap sprung?
“You spoke of an interest in personal gain. For prudent men, there is a fortune to be had moving certain goods between the Continent and the British colonies in the Caribbean. Goods, certainly... andservices.”
Emphasis on that last word brought the conversation back to where it had begun.
“Like Thérèse.” An unknown number of other women too.
“When the price is right. Although you have Mlle Blanchet for yourself, a man of your stature and interests moves in circles with refined women. You are too wise to owe me money, of course, so perhaps we can make some together instead.”
It grated on him, the necessity of this conversation, of representing himself as a man unscrupulous enough that he might willingly be complicit in unspeakably sordid dealings. But he hadn’t a choice. The repugnant words he must speak were bitter on his tongue. “I mingle with many women like Thérèse in London, if I’m understanding your suggestion.”
“One of them, certainly.” Compton’s smile was cruel. “Profit and power. Potent motivation and a respectable foundation for a partnership, Mr. Beaumont.”
“Indeed.” Respectability was the opposite of what Compton offered. “To profit and power.” He saluted Compton with his glass and finished his drink. The wine was sour in his mouth, his weariness soul deep.
Compton nodded his head towards the room. “Dubois is returning. You and I will discuss this further later this week?”
“Yes. Send a note to my lodging, and we’ll arrange a convenient time for a private continuation of this conversation.”
Dubois was scowling as he approached. “Quite tedious, what one must do as a man of business in this city, but I have done so for this evening and may now enjoy more pleasurable pursuits. And company.” Dubois gestured with his half-full goblet to Nate’s empty one. “Another drink, M.Beaumont, before we are shortly seated for our meal?” His lips curled. “But I forget myself. You are not with money immoderate or with drink either. So I have heard.”
He shrugged. “Immoderation in one often leads to immoderation in the other. Neither suits me.”
The most honest statement he’d made all evening, the truth the thinnest of lifelines within an ocean of lies.
