Without knowing how, he found himself at the door, bidding his host and hostess good night. Sylvia took his hand and held it tightly, moving up close to him so that his knuckles brushed lightly against the top of her breasts. “It’s been wonderful, Mr. Avery. I hope you’ll visit us again, and very soon.”
Roo almost stammered as he promised he would call again. He turned and mounted his horse and rode slowly to the gate. He could only wonder at this magic thing that he felt, and from every indication he was amazed to discover that Sylvia Estherbrook was apparently pleased with his company.
As the gate closed behind him, Roo wondered at that improbable fact.
Sylvia waited until the door was closed and then moved to a window beside the door, watching as Roo rode off. Turning to her father, she said, “What do you think?”
Jacob Estherbrook replied, “A young man with unlikely promise.”
“He’s certainly unattractive, though there’s a wit about him that’s charming enough, in a rat-faced sort of way,” she said dryly. “But his hand was surprisingly strong.” She tapped her teeth with her fingernail. “Those wry lads, they tend to have . . . great stamina.”
“Sylvia,” scolded her father, “you know I don’t like that sort of talk.”
Sweeping past her father as she made to climb the stairs to her bedroom, she said, “Father, you know what I am. You made me this way.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Are you going to kill him?”
Estherbrook said, “I hope not to; he has wit, and from some of the things I’ve heard of his soldiering days, he has the ability to survive. He would make a better ally than foe, I think.”
Sylvia started to climb the stairs, “But that still doesn’t keep you from trying to ruin him.”
Estherbrook waved away the comment as he turned toward his library. “Ruining a man is far different from killing him. If he’s ruined in this wheat speculation, I may even offer him a position with one of my companies. Then I would not have to worry about a rising competitor, and he might be made a valuable asset.”
Sylvia vanished at the top of the stairs and Jacob walked back toward the library. To himself he said, “Besides, if I need to, I’ll have Tim Jacoby kill him.”
Roo sipped at his coffee. It was his fifth or sixth cup of the day and he was drinking from habit, not any enjoyment of the drink.
Dash hurried up the stairs to the table where Roo sat with his partners. “Message for you.”
He handed a note to Roo. The gem buyer in Salador had offered a price lower than Roo hoped for, but not too low to make Roo consider shopping for a better deal. He quickly calculated and said, “Reply by fast rider. Forward the gold at once.”
Dash said, “And Duncan says there’s starting to be some rumblings around the inn. A miller was overheard last night, while he was getting drunk, saying that he has no wheat to grind because the farmers aren’t bringing it into the city.”
Roo nodded. “Keep me informed.”
Dash hurried away and Roo said, “It’s starting.”
Masterson nodded and signaled for a waiter to come to the table. The young man did and Masterson wrote out a note and handed it to the waiter. “Take this down to the floor, please. It’s for Mr. Amested.”
Roo sighed. “How are we doing?”
Masterson said, “We are now in debt, or have paid out six hundred thousand golden sovereigns’ worth of wheat options. You have created the largest single seizure of wheat in the history . . . of the world!” He ran his hand over his face. “I doubt there’s a grain of wheat between Malac’s Cross and the Far Coast that’s not going to show up at the city gates in the next two weeks with our name on it. We’d better have guessed right, Roo.”
Roo smiled. “None of you would have gone along with my plan if you didn’t realize it would work.” He hiked his thumb toward the floor below. “It all turns on one fact, Jerome. Everyone here, including you and me, is a greedy bastard.”
Masterson laughed. “There’s more truth in that than not, Roo.” He leaned forward. “Truth to tell, when I was a boy I cut purses for a living. Got a chance to go straight and I did, in the army, during the Great Uprising. I was little more than a kid, but like every man serving, I got the King’s pardon. I decided to turn my hand to honest business, and found that the biggest difference between honest business and dishonest is in how you approach your mark.” He leaned back. “Oh, it’s not like I’m taking everything a fellow has, and if we work well together, we both end up making money, but often it’s just as vicious as if I cut his purse and ran through the market.”
Roo said, “Where are we with price?”
“We’re steady at three silver pieces for ten bushels against a six percent guarantee.”
Roo said, “I’m too tired to calculate the numbers. How much do we stand to make?”