Read Online The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie by Jennifer Ashley - Free Book Online Page B

prison, and I’ll squeeze her dry.”
    Mortimer was a bully, plain and simple. Daniel remembered Simon saying that Mortimer owed money to a very bad man. Mortimer was the kind of person who would turn around and take out his fear and anger on those he thought weaker than he. Violette Bastien might have played Daniel for a fool, but he wished her out of Mortimer’s grasp forever.
    “How much did she owe you?” Daniel asked.
    “Forty pounds. And I want the two thousand I owe you out of her too.”
    The businessman cleared his throat. He alone of the three men pretended he didn’t notice the bruises and abrasions on Daniel’s face, although the constable studied them with interest.
    “That would be unwise,” the suited man said to Mortimer. “The law will help you gain your rent money, but nothing you incurred with another party.”
    Daniel grinned. “And stating you brought me here last night so I’d forgive your debt in exchange for her body makes you a procurer, Mortimer. Not the best thing to say in front of a constable and a solicitor.”
    Mortimer’s weasel-like face became even more red. “That is
not
what I meant . . .”
    But he
had
meant that—Mortimer simply couldn’t control his tongue. Daniel knew as well that Mortimer had come here this morning for more than the rent. A debt of forty pounds to his family wouldn’t have him that hot under the collar, not when he owed someone who would employ a bone-breaker five thousand. Mortimer had come to badger Violette, likely to demand she pay him in another way. He’d no doubt summoned the constable and solicitor only after he’d found Violette gone.
    Daniel clenched his fists behind his back so he wouldn’t haul off and punch Mortimer in the face. “Tell you what,” he said, running his gaze along the staircase, to the ceiling, and back to Mortimer. “How much do you think this house is worth?”
    Mortimer’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
    “I’ll buy it from you—or whoever in your family actually owns it. That way Madame Bastien’s rent is owed to me, not you. Knock off two thousand from the price, and I’ll consider the amount you owe me paid. Knock off another five, and I’ll buy your note back from Mr. . . . Who are you in up to your neck with?”
    Mortimer flashed an uncomfortable glance at the constable and magistrate. “Sutton,” he said, barely audible.
    Daniel’s day brightened. “You mean
Edward
Sutton? Are you a fool? Or just fond of pain?”
    “It’s none of your business,” Mortimer said angrily. “It has to do with America, and is between Mr. Sutton and myself.”
    Now even the constable looked amused. No constable would dare march to the house of Edward Sutton in Park Lane and tell him to release poor Mr. Mortimer from his debt, which was likely an illegal one. The solicitor, likewise, was pretending he didn’t hear this part of the conversation.
    “Figure the price for the house, and then knock off seven thousand from that,” Daniel said. “Give me your note of hand to Sutton, and I’ll run round and pay it for you.”
    Mortimer stared in astonishment. “What the devil? Why would you do that?”
    “In return, you’ll promise to abandon any chase of Mademoiselle Violette and leave her to her fate.”
    Mortimer bristled. “But she—”
    Daniel held up his hand. “I buy the house, I pay off Sutton for you, and in return, you leave Mademoiselle Violette alone. The price of assuaging your pride is this house plus me settling your debt. Take it, or I can tell Sutton about this lovely abode you have. I’ll guess he’d take it in lieu. Of course, he wouldn’t give you the money to make up the price of it, and your family might have something to say about that. What a right mess. I’m your best bet.”
    The solicitor cleared his throat again. They did that, solicitors, gave a dry cough that preceded sage advice. They must learn it when they apprenticed—morning lessons featuring precise throat clearing.
    “Mr.