Wicked Again (The Wickeds #7) - Kathleen Ayers Page 0,49

beings in his orbit and bestowing favors upon them. And he considered Trent to be a much lesser being.

Trent leaned back in the chair. “A favor?”

Pendleton’s gaze had grown downright chilly, his nostrils flaring out until he resembled an annoyed bulldog. “As you know, I’m courting the daughter of Sir Richard Higgins.”

“Congratulations.” Higgins owned several banks and was well known in political circles. Ridiculously wealthy, Higgins sought influence and power, which he would have after buying Pendleton for his daughter. “Which one?” Trent asked. Higgins had more than one daughter. Five, to be exact.

“The girl in the middle. Clare.”

A resounding vote of affection if Trent had ever heard one. If Higgins decided to switch out one daughter for another, would Pendleton even notice?

Unlikely.

“I’m assured my suit will be accepted. Higgins and I are in complete agreement.”

Apparently, Miss Clare Higgins had not been consulted. Pendleton had assumed the same thing about Petra Grantly, but Trent thought it wise not to bring up Pendleton’s past assumption.

“I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”

Pendleton opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again, lips thinning as he took in Trent.

My God. He really does dislike me. Quite a bit.

“We are family, Haddon, are we not?” Pendleton said in a slightly malevolent tone.

Trent suddenly had a very bad feeling about this conversation. “In a manner of speaking.”

Pendleton gave a negligent wave of his hand. “We’ve had our differences, I know. But at the end of the day, we are family. I find myself in a bit of an unwelcome situation. If my situation became widely known”—he lifted his palms—“it would reflect poorly on me. Maybe even damage my effectiveness in Parliament. My opponents would have something to use against me.” He took another sip of his scotch. “All those bloody reforms you so adore wouldn’t stand a chance without my support.”

“I concur.” On that point, Pendleton was correct. While Trent often thought his reforms didn’t go far enough, those bills wouldn’t exist at all without Pendleton. “What is this about?”

“My estate is deeply in debt. My mother and sister have been overspending for years and it is only recently I’ve managed to tighten the purse strings, but it is too late. If my sister could have managed to marry Kendicott, I wouldn’t be sitting here. But,” his lip curled in disapproval, “she’s managed to muck things up with him. The son of a pig farmer. I should toss her out.”

“How unfortunate.”

Pendleton’s eyes slid over Trent, searching for signs of mockery. Satisfied there were none, he continued.

“I’ve been selling bits and pieces. Items my mother had made from Blue John. Ridiculous little objects she had to have. It’s all worth a fortune, but still, it isn’t enough. I’ve markers all over London, Haddon. Large sums.” He pierced Trent with a hard look. “The duns are already beating at my door. Imagine my embarrassment.”

How mortifying for Pendleton who would see himself above such things.

“The vein of Blue John has finally run its course?” Trent asked. Pendleton’s Blue John was the second largest deposit in England.

“No. The mine is still profitable.” A choked laugh came from Pendleton. He ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair and across his face.

Trent waited, but Pendleton said nothing further concerning the Blue John or the mine.

“I have ambitions, Haddon. Melbourne will not be Prime Minister forever. I cannot afford to become destitute and thrown into debtor’s prison. Nor do I wish to be called a fortune hunter while trying to secure Higgins’s daughter. The girl is skittish enough. And I need Higgins’s support.”

“No, of course not.” Get to the point, Pendleton. Even in his anxiety and begging a favor, the man still managed to be long-winded, as if Trent had nothing better to do but listen to him.

“My markers are being bought up, Haddon. Anonymously. My fear is one person, possibly with political motivation, is behind the collecting of my debt. This individual could seek to use my debt as leverage. Possibly even try to wield power through me, and thus into Parliament. And I’ll have little choice.”

“We all have a choice, Pendleton.”

“How naive you are.” An ugly choked sound came from him. “You’ve no concept of the workings of government. How one hand rubs the back of another.”

Trent was liking this conversation, and Pendleton, less and less.

“Your late wife knew how things worked, for all that she’d been raised in the country. Anne wasn’t shy about running to my father when you were in trouble. An accident at the quarry. You