“If yer don’t need me I’m for downstairs then.” Ox gave the duke another up-and-down perusal and flexed one meaty hand.
“On with you then. And keep a sharp eye out for the person whodoeshave an appointment with me this morning,” Daedalus said with a pointed glance at the duke.
“Right, guv’.” Ox tapped two fingers to his cap and left, closing the door behind him. Suddenly the din from the presses faded to a low hum. Or perhaps the lack of air and noise in his office had more to do with the presence of his brother, a man with whom he’d spoken less than a dozen times in the five years since he’d left the homes and fortune of his ducal ancestors.
“Would it kill your servants to address you as my lord?”
“Probably.” Daedalus indicated the chair across the desk from his own. “Sit if you must but be quick about it. I have a business to run.” He flipped open a ledger and pulled a stack of bills across the scarred and pitted surface of his desk.
“I see your manners have gone even more lacking,” Chelmsford observed in that dry, bored tone of his. He drew his handkerchief from his pocket and dusted off the chair before he sat. Daedalus rolled his eyes.
“As has your ability to cut line and arrive at the point of this unannounced visit. I’ll ask again in case your hearing has also gone lacking. Why are you here?” He picked up a quill, dotted the nib into his ink pot, and began to write in the ledger. He’d be damned if he could read what he scribbled as without his spectacles he couldn’t see a bloody thing. Chelmsford heaved a dramatic sigh. Daedalus continued to write, not bothering to raise his attention from the ledger.
“Breadmore is throwing a ball next week to introduce our niece to society. Your attendance is expected. One would hope you will be there for our sister’s sake.”
Daedalus blinked several times. He stopped writing mid-word. His entire body went cold as he placed the quill back onto his inkstand. Slowly he raised his head and met his brother’s steely gaze.
“She’s barely out of the schoolroom, for God’s sake. He’s already trying to marry her off?”
“She’s sixteen.”
“Exactly. A child.” For the first time since the duke had entered the room Daedalus truly studied his brother. “You cannot in good conscience allow this.” He fought the sudden flood of memories rushing toward him, an undammed river of sadness, horror, and rage.
“He is her father.”
“Unfortunately.”
“I will not debate this subject with you again.”
“Of course, you won’t. The earl is your closest friend. Tell me, Your Grace, do you think Breadmore’s bitch of a mother has explained what goes on between a man and a woman to our niece? Do you think she has been prepared for what happens after her father marries her off to the highest bidder?”
“That is her husband’s duty.”
“Really? Worked out well for our sister, didn’t it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Our sister died of childbed fever. Breadmore was a devoted husband. I suppose you wish to gift our sixteen-year-old niece with some of the filth you publish here.” Chelmsford’s voice evinced disgust, though his face remained impassive as always.
“Absolutely. Anything to help her avoid the rakes and debauchers she’s going to encounter once Breadmore puts her on the auction block. Anything to help her realize she deserves a man who will give her pleasure in the bedchamber rather than climbing atop her and breeding her like a damned cow.”
“Five years of peddling this Bacchanalian lechery you call literature has rotted your brain, Daedalus.”
“If that’s how you see what I sell, I have a great deal of pity for your mistress.”
“Crude, brother,” the duke replied. “And beneath you.” Something flickered in the man’s eyes. For the first time in all the years since their father died Chelmsford’s ducal hauteur faltered. Interesting. And somehow…frightening.
“According to you nothing is beneath me. But I will find a way to keep Alice safe. I owe Diana that much.” The mere mention of their sister’s name conjured an ache in his chest he dared not try to rub away. Not in his brother’s presence. “We both owe her that much.”
Chelmsford shifted forward in his chair. “If you want to help Alice, allow me to buy you out of this business and close it down. How well will she fair on the Marriage Mart with a purveyor of disgusting books as her uncle?”
Daedalus allowed a slow smile to crease his lips. “At last we discover the real reason for your visit. Go away, Your Grace. My business is not for sale.”
“Who paid for your steam presses? I know you did not pay for them. This…venture is doing well, but not that well.” Chelmsford made a study of his fingernails so as not to look directly at Daedalus. A tactic which worked ten years ago and perhaps even five years ago, but not now.
“You arrogant bastard. Keep that ferret of a man of business of yours out of my affairs.”
“I’m no bastard. And any resemblance Aikers bears to a ferret is strictly coincidence. You have a partner. A partner who has invested a great deal of money in your business. Should I succeed in shutting you down, and I will succeed, this partner will lose his investment. You can tell me his name or I can set Aikers to finding him and denouncing his participation in this business to the world. Your choice, Daedalus.”
“Not much of a choice, but I would expect nothing less of you.”
