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Jay curled his toes. Let Levy try. He smirked at the man, imagining his fist in his face. House or not, elder or not, how dare he impugn—Urs’ uncle smirked back and rolled his eyes.
“I know plenty about you. I know the Hale family very well, or at least well enough. I know enough to determine how much it’s advisable to lend your cousins and whether they are a good investment.”
“And?” He matched Levy’s growl. The pretenses were gone.
“They’re prudent, careful, and have cornered a certain market. Effectiveness is unnecessary and the end users all need a constant supply. There will be a good, steady profit, unless something better is found. Though, I’ve heard that may not matter with opium, as once it’s used there’s no substitute. I’ve seen it with my own eyes—I travel to London, often—and of course there was my sister-in-law at the end of her life. A sound investment, in many ways.”
Jay’s mouth went dry. He knew. He truly knew. All the sins and secrets and there he was, reclining in an armchair, like a king, or rather a judge, ready to make a proclamation of the rightness of—what gave him the right? Jay swallowed. “You make it sound...”
Levy raised an eyebrow. He placed his elbows on the ar
mrests and leaned back further into his seat. The glow from the silk fabric illuminated his dressing gown, as if he wore judicial robes. All he needed was a wig.
“Like what it is? That your cousins sell disease not a cure?”
And there it was. The pronouncement. Disease. That was what he had, what he’d given himself by sampling his own wares. He was ill, sick and would never become well again because he was, as his father said, weak. Ruined, and he’d brought it on himself.
Jay’s throat filled, but he forced his mouth open. He swallowed and fought and grasped at the pieces of his mind that still functioned.
His manners. He needed his manners. His charm too, his armor, his protection. With them, he could be all right. With them he wasn’t sick, or at least he could pretend.
“Doctors prescribe what we sell.” The words were calm despite the catch in his throat.
Levy’s lips quirked in a half smile. “True, and far be it from me to criticize profiting from someone else’s need.”
The man knew exactly what he was doing, and he enjoyed it. He was loathsome. How could one person have so much hate?
Jay ground his jaw, gripping at his sensibilities. “The medication helps people. Something raised interest rates do not.”
Damn it all. Levy had him. He’d lost. He’d revealed himself as a pigeon-livered fool.
Both of Urs’ uncle’s eyebrows arched. He paused and drew his lips inside his mouth. He drummed his fingers, once, twice, three times, before addressing Jay.
“It does, as does the money we lend. However, a smaller portion of the population requires what the Hales sell. I profit from fuel, they profit from—well, that’s another matter.”
Levy closed his eyes and shifted in his chair.
Jay’s skin was in flames. He must have died from exhaustion and was now in Hell.
“I’d have not thought you so particular.” The words came out of their own accord as if he’d already changed into a demon.
Bernard’s smile broadened. “That I have no scruples? That I’m greedy, usurious?”
Jay’s palms itched, and his scalp. Perhaps he had fleas. Perhaps that was part of his torment. The room started to spin.
“That’s not what I said.” The man put words in his mouth. Tricky, obnoxious, smug—damn it. His father, with all his faults had never said things like that. Jay closed his eyes. He’d made such a mess. He could never, ever make anything right. “I certainly don’t think those things about your brother-in-law and your niece.”
“No, though part of that has to do with the access my niece has granted you and the fact my naïve brother-in-law has looked the other way, not out of anything more noble or should I say more charitable or less—no, Mr. Truitt, you aren’t really that much different than the Reeds or the Pierponts or the Middletons, are you?”
“I haven’t...” No, he was worse, much worse.
“You most certainly have, in my house. That’s disrespectful in itself, but to do that to someone without your protection is reprehensible.”
Stop it, stop it, stop it.
Why wouldn’t the man just let him be? Why did he have to needle and prickle and force his hand? Did he not know what every day, every damned day was like?
“You don’t even like her or your brother-in-law, your own family.” Jay clenched his fists so his nails bit into his palms. Ursula’s descriptions of her childhood stirred in his head. “You made that very clear over the years. You banished them to Delaware, snubbed your own blood, never showed her any affection, not a kind word. You don’t even use her name.”
