Read Online Victorian Dream by Gini Rifkin - Free Book Online Page B

I saw the documents blow off the dock into the bay.”
    “They were ceremonial, just for show. The real ones were signed the night before.”
    “I’ll be damned.”
    “No doubt you will be. Now spill the particulars,” Lucien ordered.
    Spellbound, Beatrice listened as Barty explained about the crate he’d rigged and the poor sailor who had tried to interfere.
    “At the last minute,” he said, lighting his pipe and blowing a cloud, “some little squeaker ran up distracting the Captain. And what with the wind a-blowin’ as it were, the crate missed the mark, injuring the girl’s parents instead. That Garrison fellow, he’s got the luck of a cat. Didn’t even suffer a scratch.”
    “Yes,” Lucien agreed, “I met the good Captain a few days ago at Royston Hall. Imagine my surprise. He’s poking his American nose into the company business and offering aid and comfort to Trelayne.”
    “You’re a solicitor, ain’t there nothing legal you can do?”
    “Philip’s power of attorney is indisputable, only the girl can act as proxy in the shipping line. Unfortunately, she’s deferring to the Yankee for advice—not me. The man must be dealt with, and Trelayne’s dependence upon him eliminated.”
    Beatrice fumed. Lucien was always running off to see that rich piece of baggage. She hated Trelayne St.Christopher. The silly woman had everything—beauty, money, a proper education. Never bought a dress off the peg or worked a day in her life. She hoped Trelayne’s parents died. She hoped Lucien never won her heart. But it sounded like he wanted the trollop now more than ever.
    Lucien poured another round of drinks. The conversation waned, and the opium cigarette in her hand seemed to tingle and vie for her attention. Enticed by the urge for a smoke, and the forgetfulness it would bring, she made to leave. Then her brother spoke again.
    “I’m itching to have another chance at the Captain,” he declared, toying with his glass of rum. “It’ll be my pleasure seeing to him. Any other plans on the agenda? You know I hate being idle and I loves counting money.”
    “I need you to oversee the final opium shipment,” Lucien said.
    “Piece a cake,” Bart assured, “I’m your man.” He stretched out his legs, and sipped at his drink.
    Lucien’s gaze hardened into the frightful expression indicating something nasty was about to happen. He gave Bartholomew’s outstretched legs a solid well-placed kick.
    “Listen up and listen good,” he snarled. “This is the largest investment I have ever made, and I want no mistakes. Not one. Do you hear me? If you slip up again, as you did in America, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”
    Bartholomew sat up rubbing his bruised limb. “All right, gov’nor, no need to be so physical in your explanations.”
    She wondered why Lucien seemed so nervous over a drug shipment. After all, it wasn’t illegal to buy and peddle opium. Even the upper class enjoyed their share. And having successfully avoided the associated pitfalls of robbery, double cross, and general underworld treachery, Lucien anonymously made a tidy profit in his side business.
    “Although it isn’t a law yet,” Lucien said, “there’s been talk of restricting opium distribution to the apothecary shops. A black market trade will follow, of course, but it will make matters all the more complicated and risky. Another shipment after this one may be long in coming. Besides, I have special plans for the proceeds, and there is a large crated object onboard of particular interest to me.”
    “What is it?” Barty leaned forward, replete with curiosity.
    “It’s instrumental in accomplishing my most daring undertaking yet. For now, that’s all you need know.”
    So, Beatrice thought, Lucien’s mind was teeming with new schemes. More danger and thrills for him to feed upon. That was his opium—that and sex. Having heard enough, her hand tightened around the cigarette, and she slid from her hiding