As the Devil Dares (Capturing the Carlisles #3)(26)

Robert leaned forward. Calculations and scenarios were already running through his mind on the best way to leverage the company’s assets to free up enough capital for the kind of venture Winslow was proposing. A commitment of hundreds of thousands of pounds—

A loss of hundreds of thousands of pounds if they weren’t careful.

He knew how fickle King George could be, how royal projects were often abandoned or changed halfway through, until they resembled nothing of the original concept. “New basins can be built anywhere,” he cautioned.

“Have to be built at St Katharine’s,” Winslow assured him, slumping down in his chair and resting his glass on his round belly. “Only the northern bank can support that kind of construction, and they can’t be built any closer in due to the tides and the bridge. Anything further downstream is too far away from the City and too close to Greenwich. The king will also have to reimburse landholders for the properties he puts underwater, so for his purse, what better place to build than a slum?”

And that, Robert realized, was how Henry Winslow had taken his father’s small shipping interest and grown it into the largest sole proprietorship in the empire. By recognizing that something as inconsequential as Baron Whitby’s complaint could be turned into an opportunity for tremendous profit.

If Robert had any doubts that working with Winslow wasn’t the best for him—an opportunity that could never be matched with any other company—this meeting erased them all. And only increased his determination to secure that partnership.

“So you plan to buy up as many properties in St Katharine’s as you can for pennies on the pound,” Robert drawled with admiration. Like scattered pearls on the ground…“Then sell them to the crown for profit when the docks go in.”

“I plan for you to buy up as many properties for us as you can, while also identifying those at the edges that will make for good warehouses,” Winslow corrected with an eager glint in his eyes. “After all, we’ll need somewhere to store the goods we’ll unload from that fleet of new ships we’ll be able to buy.” Then he pulled a sheet of paper from his desk drawer and handed it to Robert. “And make us a fortune in the process.”

Hiding the simmering excitement that pulsed through him, he glanced at the paper. A list of street names where Winslow assumed the basins would be built. A long list.

“I want you to track down the owners of every property on those streets and find out how much it would take to convince them to sell,” Winslow ordered.

He frowned, feeling his excitement wane sharply. “Parliament has to approve the docks first.” Judging from the length of the list, it encompassed the entire area of St Katharine’s. He tossed it onto the desk. “They’ll never agree to destroy an area this large.”

Winslow gave a curt nod. “Which is why you must convince them.”

His heart stuttered. In that pain-filled beat, all the connections between his partnership and the properties in St Katharine’s instantly crystallized, and a bitter taste rose in his mouth. He felt like a fool for thinking Winslow appreciated his business acumen. “Is that the only reason you offered that partnership to me, my influence with Parliament?”

“Not at all.” Winslow straightened in his chair, his no-nonsense gaze fixing on Robert across the desk. “You possess a sharp business mind and the zeal to work hard. You’ll be an asset to me long after those docks are built. But you also know how business works, Carlisle. To be successful, a man has to use every tool at his disposal. Including his connections.”

“Including applying pressure to my friends and family until they support the new docks, you mean,” he drawled, carefully keeping the distaste from his expression.

Winslow leaned back in his chair with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It happens all the time. Canal bills, import tariffs, taxes…it’s how politics works. Ask your brother. I’m certain Trent witnesses it every day.” He shook his head. “The current London docks and wharves cannot handle the amount of ships which need to use them, and new docks will be built. It’s as simple as that. If we don’t benefit, someone else will. Why not let the profits be ours?”

Robert felt as if the devil himself were tempting him to make a deal for his soul. A tantalizing deal he very much wanted to accept. “We’ll destroy the borough and chase thousands of poor from their homes.”

“We’ll bring new jobs with good wages. The sailors, longshoremen, and their families will have better lives than they have now.”

Something else pricked at his conscience…“Isn’t the Gatewell School located in St Katharine’s?”

Winslow’s eyes flickered, and for a heartbeat, Robert thought he saw remorse on the man’s face. “It is. But running a charity school isn’t what a proper young lady like Mariah should be doing in the first place.” He rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger, as if working down a headache. But then, Robert conceded, hadn’t Mariah given him his own headache since the moment he met her? “Neither is running a shipping company.”

Robert swirled the bourbon in his glass and ventured diplomatically, “Your daughter seems to think differently.”

“A thought that I should have discouraged years ago.” Winslow blew out a long-suffering sigh. “When she was a little girl, I used to bring her to work with me.” A touch of pride filled his voice. “I loved taking her down to the wharves, to let her watch the workers and ships coming and going. Her face would light up whenever she saw all the strange, new things being unloaded. Once we even saw a camel.” He chuckled at the memory. “I’ll never forget the way she stared at it. Not frightened at all—oh no, not Mariah. She wanted to ride it like a pony!”