Page 3 of Miss Thornfield’s Daring Bargain (The Troublemakers Trilogy #1)

“S o where’d you put him, Oliver?” Trent asked the guard, after checking to make sure Basil Thompson was gone.

“Ian’s got him in the empty storeroom,” Oliver replied. “Nobody’ll be there for at least a week.”

Trent nodded and began to walk away but Oliver grabbed his arm. “What?” Trent asked, keeping the annoyance out of his voice. Who did this little shit think he was, putting his hands on him?

“Who’s that toff? Is he gonna be a problem?”

“Nah. He ain’t nothin,” he assured him. And if he became a problem, he’d be easy enough to deal with. Skinny men like him, like Thornfield, with soft hands and posh accents broke easily against real men. Men with dirt under their nails.

“I don’t want no trouble.”

“And there won’t be. Just follow my lead, eh?”

Oliver nodded and released his arm. Trent adjusted his jacket and walked on, crossing the inner courtyard and heading for the back rooms. The unit in question was on the far side of the prison. It was quiet. Quieter than he’d been expecting if he was honest. Thornfield was a proud man. He’d expected him to be shouting his innocence and demanding an audience with magistrates to clear his name.

When he opened the door, he found Thornfield sitting on the floor, his back straight and his eyes closed. He didn’t even look upset. Had to be some kind of heathen practice. When the dim light hit his face, Thornfield’s eyes opened and fixed on him. There was no surprise there, no reaction other than the slow breath he released. The little bastard was trying to rattle him.

Fat chance. “Well, fancy seeing you here,” Trent said, closing the door behind him and leaning against the wall.

Thornfield’s dark eyes burned with anger, but he said nothing.

“I’ll bet you never saw this coming, did ya? Don’t look at me like that. It’s your own fault I did this. I’ve been working under your type, running your businesses all my life, and you think you can take that money and piss it away on workers? As if they deserve it more than me. Your father knew better than to waste his money, but you… you’re a bleedin’ heart just like the rest of those jumped-up toffs with their middle-class morality and their high and mighty ideals.”

Still, Thornfield remained silent, watching him with seething contempt. As if he had the right to judge him when he was too stupid to see him coming. His father had been too caught up in his wife and two brats to notice what Trent had skimmed off the surface. This narrow-eyed crossbreed was another matter altogether. He’d been trusting enough the first couple years but those dark eyes missed nothing once they started looking. Soon after the questions had begun, Trent had to ease off rather than risk more scrutiny. But there were others who understood Trent’s position, who were ready to help Trent get the respect and compensation he deserved.

“It’s fine though, I’ll get mine anyway. All I have to do is keep your little sis out the way while I handle business. Once I get my money from your offices, I’ll be free and clear.”

“Will you?” When Thornfield finally spoke, his voice was almost curious. Something else was there instead of anger. Was he amused?

“Will I what?” he asked.

“Be ‘free and clear’?”

“You think I don’t have a plan? I’ve got friends in high places same as you. We’ve been cooking this up ever since you started with those weavers from Ireland. No one knows you’re even missing and the ones that do, don’t even know you’re here.”

“For now.”

For now? What was that supposed to mean? Why wasn’t he more anxious? Did he think he was going to get away easily? Did he think that Trent wasn’t ready for anything? “You think you have the run of this town, don’tcha? Cause you got money? This here is my town boy, my London, my England. Ain’t no one’s gonna notice you’re missing or care about where you a

“Except for Ada.”

“That little miss is the least of my worries. I have her eating out of my hand.”

Thornfield’s slow smile was an unspoken challenge. “Despite what you clearly think, I will get out of here. I will hunt you down. And if you hurt a hair on my sister’s head, I will dispose of you piece by piece.”

Something about him had Trent’s stomach twisting in alarm. It wasn’t natural. He’d already been beaten, only a fool didn’t know when to admit defeat. “Tough talk from a man in shackles,” Trent replied before leaving the room and slamming the door shut behind him. That little shit wasn’t going to rattle him. Everything was in hand, all he needed was a fortnight to get the money from his simple crossbred sister to his debtors. A fortnight and he would be living the life he was always meant to have.