Chapter 144

He had no time to wonder why those men had gathered in Fairmont’s house when the door opened again and Fairmont entered.

His eyes moved across the room, taking in each of the men before settling upon John.

It was impossible to tell whether Fairmont was surprised to find him standing there, for the man’s countenance remained utterly impassive.

"Gentlemen," Fairmont said, greeting each man courteously and exchanging a few brief pleasantries, even while the bulk of his attention remained fixed upon John.

When the last greeting was finished, Fairmont approached him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" he asked, his keen eyes locked on John.

"I would like a word with you." John lifted his chin in a show of confidence. "In private."

What few people understood about the Lord Chancellor was his talent for turning every circumstance to his advantage. Like a shark sensing blood in the water, he could detect the smallest weakness in a man and recognize exactly how it might be exploited.

John was certainly not a man he considered easy pickings or so John believed.

Fairmont regarded him for several seconds, most likely calculating whether the man was worth his time.

At last, Fairmont nodded. Turning his attention to his other guests, he said, "Pray, allow me a moment. There is a matter that demands my attention."

Then, to John, he said, "Follow me."

He turned and left the room, not even bothering to check whether John was following.

He maintained a clipped pace, and John followed behind, his footsteps echoing faintly along the halls.

The study was gloomier than the drawing room, lined with tall bookshelves and furnished in dark, polished wood. A broad mahogany desk dominated the far end, its carved edges gleaming beneath the morning light that filtered through the tall windows.

Fairmont entered and waited until John was inside before closing the door behind him.

"Why are you here?" he asked, turning to level John with a stern look. Gone was the politeness he displayed previously. "What makes you think you have the right to simply show up at my home unannounced?"

John removed his hat and placed it on the desk.

"I want a favor," he said, refusing to cower as others might have done at the sight of Fairmont’s displeasure. Arrogant to a fault, he had never gone through life as another man’s supplicant.

"What favor?"

"My father is attempting to disinherit me, and I have reason to believe he is altering his will to make my cousin his heir. He has even made a formal request to the Queen. I have not approached his solicitor because there is little point in doing so. If my father intends to keep me ignorant until the matter is settled, his solicitor will obey him." His lips twisted in distaste. "He has been waiting years for an opportunity to rid himself of me. I have no intention of making it easy for him. I want you to see that it does not happen."

Fairmont did not look moved.

"What makes you think I can do anything about your situation?"

"You have influence."

"Influence is not the same as authority."

"But you have influence with the Crown," John pressed. "My father has petitioned Her Majesty. I want that petition stopped."

Fairmont regarded him with a frown, his expression giving nothing away.

"And how, precisely, is that my concern?"

John felt the anger from breakfast surge back through him. He stepped closer.

"Because if I lose the marquessate, I have nothing."

Fairmont’s brows rose slightly. The sheer audacity of the man, to come here and presume to make demands of him.

"That sounds like your problem. Not mine."

"It becomes your problem if I have nothing left to lose." The words came out harsher than John intended. He stepped closer again. "I have done things for you. I have risked my position for you. I am still doing so. You owe me."

"I owe you?" Fairmont’s blank expression shifted into one of irritation. He gave a quiet, humorless laugh. "You were given one task, and you failed."

John stiffened beneath the verbal blow, but Fairmont seemed to derive no satisfaction from it. He did not even spare him another glance as he moved to the back of his desk. To Fairmont, John was little more than an inconvenience that overestimated himself, too insignificant to warrant his attention, let alone his concern.

When the Lord Chancellor spoke next, his words were like sharpened knives.

"You want me to intervene on your behalf after proving yourself incapable of accomplishing the one thing I required of you?" He looked at John with open contempt. "Perhaps your father has finally recognized what everyone else has been obliged to tolerate."

"What is that supposed to mean?" John barked.

"That you are unreliable. Easily provoked. And, when something actually matters, remarkably ineffectual." Fairmont’s voice remained perfectly calm as he laid out every one of John’s faults. "Perhaps your father is not doing you an injustice at all. Perhaps he is merely preventing you from doing one to the family."

John stared at him indignantly, his jaw tightening. Then he snapped.

"And what do I receive for all the trouble I have taken for you?" His voice rose. "Nothing. My father dies, Hugh inherits, and I am left with nothing while you sit comfortably behind that desk and tell me it is my own fault. Do you honestly think I will simply accept it?"

Fairmont recognized John’s attempt at intimidation but did not so much as flinch. The effort was almost laughable. That a man like John should believe he could intimidate him was nothing short of absurd.

"You seem determined to mistake my patience for stupidity. I could have you dragged out by the ear, and you would not be able to do anything about it." Fairmont’s eyes flashed dangerously. "Remember whose house you are in."

The cold warning did nothing to deter John.

"After everything I have done for you—"

"Everything?" Fairmont interrupted him, swiftly cutting his words short before he could launch into a tirade.

John evidently did not like being interrupted. His mounting anger erupted, eating away at the last dregs of his self-control.

"I could scarcely stand that woman, and I was willing to marry her because you told me to," he said through clenched teeth. "I would have kept her in check. I would have done what was required for your ambitions."

Fairmont still stared him down with a coldness that made the large study feel cramped. "And you could not even manage that. You lost the woman, failed the task, and now arrive here demanding that I rescue you from the consequences."

His gaze remained fixed upon John as he delivered the cutting remark. "Your father may be a more perceptive man than you give him credit for."

John’s hands curled tightly at his sides.

"Incompetent," Fairmont said cruelly. "That is what you are."

The insult struck harder than John cared to admit. He could feel the violence of his own temper rising again, hot and fast. For several seconds, he imagined overturning the desk, tearing the books from their shelves, perhaps even striking the man standing before him. Fairmont had more than earned his anger.

But anger would achieve nothing.

John drew a slow breath, forcing himself to regain control.

When he spoke again, his voice was so controlled that it sounded more dangerous than shouting would have.

"Fine, then. I came here to ask for your help. You have made it quite clear that you intend to turn me away. Very well. I shall find another way." John tapped the desk twice. "But understand something, Fairmont. If I walk out of this room without your assistance, whatever loyalty I have shown you ends with me crossing that threshold."

When Fairmont’s face remained unreadable, John went on.

"I will make certain that every one of your sins comes to light. Every secret. Every shady arrangement you have ever made. Every favor you have bought and every law you have broken. I will see that the right people learn of them, and when you finally fall, I shall take considerable pleasure in watching it happen."

Fairmont’s eyes narrowed. "You are aware that if I go down, you will go down with me."

"I am," John responded. "But you seem to have forgotten the difference between us. You have everything to lose." A cold smile appeared on his face. "I have almost nothing left."

That was the first sign that his threat had touched Fairmont and made a dent in his armor. It was barely there, nothing more than a slight change around the eyes, a fraction of a second in which the man’s composure ceased to be quite so impenetrable.

John noticed it. He knew then that he had finally found something Fairmont feared.

"Think carefully," John said.

Fairmont’s eyes hardened, burning with something fierce.

For a moment, neither man moved. The tension between them stretched taut, each waiting for the other to concede defeat.

Fairmont spoke first.

"Fine. I will see what I can do about your little problem."

The satisfaction that spread across John’s face was immediate.

"I knew we could come to an agreement." He reached for his hat from the desk. "You are a good man after all."

Fairmont said nothing as John placed the hat on his head, concealing the smile that still lingered at the corner of his mouth.

He believed he had forced Fairmont’s hand.

He did not yet understand that, in making the threat, he also showed Fairmont exactly how desperate he had become.

Fairmont might also have to begin taking measures against John. The man had just demonstrated that he was willing to expose their entire association the moment he failed to get what he wanted. Someone so reckless was a liability, and liabilities were dangerous.

Fairmont had never tolerated liabilities.