Sharp chuckled. “I was only jesting anyway—I’ve got someone else in mind for that post.”
“Have you?”
Sharp’s smile was wolfish.
“How about last night then?” he said after a moment.
Kit felt his face heat. “I’m sorry things got so out of hand. I wasn’t expecting that. I don’t think it would have happened had Skelton not been there.”
Sharp only shrugged. “There was always a risk of fisticuffs. I wouldn’t have let you do it to a good customer, but Bartlett was on his way to being banned anyway. As for Skelton, your duke friend did me a favour with that one. Turned out he’d been using marked cards in my club.”
Sharp leaned forward, his tawny gaze oddly intent on Kit. He looked unusually serious with no hint of amusement or sarcasm in his expression. It was a look that said he meant what he was about to say.
“Don’t you worry about them coves, Kit,” he said quietly. “I’ll be taking care of both of them. You don’t need to give ’em another thought, and neither does your friend, Clara.”
Kit blinked.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised. Sharp had already been remarkably decent about the whole thing.
“Thank you,” Kit said at last. “I appreciate that more than I can say, and Clara will too.”
Sharp acknowledged his thanks with a brief nod. “So,” he said after a pause. “This duke of yours. Avesbury.”
“He’s not my duke,” Kit replied quickly. He might be grateful to Sharp, but he wasn’t about to give him any information about Henry he didn’t need.
“No?” Sharp said, raising a brow. “I heard he was your keeper?”
“That was years ago,” Kit said with a careless shrug. “And he’s not the only keeper I ever had.”
Sharp was silent for a long time, then he leaned back in his chair and said, “Well, that’s good to know, Kitten, because if there’s a position free as your keeper, I’d be very interested in applying.”
Kit laughed softly and shook his head. “There’s no position. As I think I’ve told you before, I don’t do that anymore. And even if I did, I’m too old for you.”
“Bollocks,” Sharp said, grinning. “You’re not much older than me.”
“Whether or not that’s the case, the fact remains I swore to myself a long time ago that I would never take money for that again.”
Besides, I’m in love with someone else.
He wasn’t stupid enough to say that last part aloud though.
Sharp sighed. “Well that’s just a damned shame,” he said. “The way I see it, money keeps things simple between two people. And I need things simple.”
Kit could have told him he was wrong. That far from making it simpler, money complicated everything. That it changed the balance between two people in ways that couldn’t be easily rectified.
But he didn’t say any of those things.
“If you recall, you do owe me a favour,” Sharp said, canting his head a little and quirking a smile.
Kit gave him a look. “I do recall—and I also recall that I told you that doesn’t include my favours. Ask for something else.”
Sharp laughed. He leaned back in his chair, watching Kit with unconcealed curiosity. “What have you got to offer me, Kitten?”
Kit opened his mouth to make some flippant comment in reply, but then he stopped himself. Paused. Let the idea that had just occurred to him expand in his mind.
What he was contemplating terrified him, but he made himself say it anyway.
“How about I sell Redford’s to you?”
Sharp’s eyes widened
And it was then that Kit realised something.
He really did want to sell Redford’s.
He wanted to be done with it.
“The members value the discretion I provide,” Kit said. “So we would have to find a way of reassuring them on that score. I could not sell without being satisfied that they were fully protected.”
Sharp’s gaze searched his face. “I understand,” he said at last. “It only makes sense after all—that’s where the real value lies. Your members pay through the nose for safety. It’s a nice little earner, Kit, and I admit, it would fit well with my other businesses.”
“So,” Kit said, “can you guarantee their safety? It all rests on that.”
Sharp met his gaze. “Guarantee? No.”
Kit’s disappointment at that response was crushing. He tried to hide his reaction but feared it must be obvious to Sharp.
“In that case,” he began, “I don’t think we can—”
“The real question is not what I can or cannot guarantee them,” Sharp said. “It’s whether they can trust me. So, we’ll ask them.”
“Ask them?” Kit echoed.
“Yes,” Sharp said simply. “You’ll tell them you’re selling up and I’m buying and we’ll give them the choice to leave or stay. If they want to leave, fine—and you’ll destroy all their membership records. Or, they can stay with me as the new owner. I’m reasonably well known now, with my own clubs, so they can judge for themselves whether they’re prepared to trust me.” He paused. “I’ll give you seven and a half thousand for the club regardless of who stays, and another two and a half if more than two-thirds stay.”
Kit swallowed hard. It was a very fair offer.
“Fifteen thousand,” he said coolly, “Guineas, not pounds. Plus the extra two and half if you get over two-thirds of the members, and you keep on all the staff at the same wages.”
Sharp laughed. “You cheeky sod,” he said wonderingly. He thought for a moment. “Ten thousand guineas then. Two and half more if two-thirds stay—if nine-tenths do, I’ll make it fifteen all-in. And I’ll keep the staff, but you won’t remove so much as a stick of furniture from the reception rooms or a single spoon from the kitchens.”
Kit’s head was swimming. “Done,” he said faintly.
Sharp held out his hand, and Kit took it.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Sharp said.
22
Henry
When Henry arrived home, his butler advised him that Lord Frederick was in the breakfast room and had asked to be informed as soon as his grace returned home.
“Shall I inform Lord Frederick that you are back, your grace?”
“No need,” Henry said. “I’ll go and speak with him. I could do with some breakfast in any event.”
Freddy looked up from his plate when Henry opened the door.
“Good morning, Freddy,” Henry said. “Did you sleep well?” He went to the sideboard and filled a plate before returning to the table and settling down.
“Tolerably well,” Freddy said. “You?”
Was there a note of challenge in that question, or was Henry imagining things? Mildly he said, “I did, thank you. Could you pour me some tea?” He pushed his cup and saucer towards Freddy who lifted the pot, poured him a cup, and pushed it back.
“How is Mr. Redford?” Freddy asked.