“Yes, but, ” Isaac paused, carefully recalibrating. “Surely there’s merit in keeping a venture such as this lean. The fewer hands, the better the grip. You understand.”
Henry turned now, slowly. “On the contrary. I find ventures far more stable when those hands can be trusted not to shift the weight behind one’s back.”
The smile on Isaac’s face remained, but his fingers tightened faintly around the edge of the saucer.
“I only meant,” he said, voice lighter now, “that we had a rhythm, you and I. An understanding.”
Nathaniel chuckled. “Ah. You mean when you proposed the venture behind closed doors with no paperwork, no partners, and no real capital.”
“I had assurances.”
“You had intentions,” Henry cut in, his voice cool and even. “What you didn’t have was my agreement.”
Isaac’s lips parted, but no words emerged at once.
Henry continued, stepping closer to the table, his tone like steel beneath silk. “And if I am to attach my name to something that affects my holdings, my tenants, and my future, then I will not do so without oversight. That includes the Duke of Frayton.”
Nathaniel smiled, wide and guileless. “Delighted to be the oversight.”
Isaac’s expression curdled, just for a heartbeat, before smoothing again. “As you wish, Your Grace,” he said. “Of course.”
Henry turned back to the window. The view beyond was washed in pale spring light, deceptively calm.
Isaac recovered with practiced ease, reaching again for his teacup. “Well, I suppose every ship sails smoother with a full deck of officers. Though, I thought I had mentioned, I’ve already secured interest from Lord Fenwick.”
Nathaniel glanced over with mild interest. “Fenwick? Truly? The same Fenwick who pulled out of the Darren rail bid because of whispers of impropriety?”
Isaac inclined his head, pleased with himself. His smile sharpened. “The very same. He’s eager, I assure you. He sees the potential and is prepared to commit, under the right conditions.”
“Mm,” Nathaniel murmured, tapping a finger against his saucer. “And by ‘right conditions’ you mean… fewer Dukes in the room?”
Isaac gave a tight chuckle. “I mean discretion. Decisiveness. Not every man of standing relishes prolonged negotiation.”
Henry’s voice was like ice over water. “Then Lord Fenwick may not relish me.”
That earned a smirk from Nathaniel. “He’ll survive the disappointment.”
Isaac pressed on, still smooth, still smiling, but the strain was beginning to show at the corners of his mouth. “I only meant that Fenwick is not a man to be trifled with. His interest lends this venture significant credibility.”
Henry looked at him for a long moment, then folded his arms. “And I am not a man to be maneuvered.”
A pause.
Nathaniel broke it with a cheerful sip. “It’s terribly inconvenient when business partners insist on reading the contracts, isn’t it?”
Isaac’s gaze flicked toward him. “This is a matter of investment. Not mockery.”
Nathaniel leaned back slightly, still smiling. “Then perhaps choose your investments more wisely.”
Henry said nothing for a moment. He didn’t need to. His silence had weight, measured, calculating, cold.
When he finally spoke, it was quiet. “Lord Fenwick doesn’t entertain foolish schemes. If he’s willing to consider this, it speaks to the strength of the venture. If he wishes to be involved, I welcome the conversation. But I will not be led into it by someone whose own holdings are in disarray.”
Isaac stiffened. “That’s an unfair characterization.”
“No,” Henry said. “It’s a precise one.”
Isaac leaned back again, swirling the dregs of his tea. “Of course, this arrangement only works if there’s mutual understanding. Respect, naturally. Transparency. Especially when affections become entangled.”
