Trade Winds (Choc Lit) (18 page)

Chapter Fifteen

A month passed, during which Killian had several discussions with both Fergusson and Campbell. It was decided that he was definitely going on the voyage to China as assistant supercargo. Although he would have to work hard during the journey, he would be given the opportunity to learn everything Campbell had to teach him. It seemed like a fair deal to Killian, but after his initial enthusiasm for the idea, Fergusson began to have cold feet. He tried to withdraw his consent, but fortunately Campbell put a stop to that the moment he realised what was happening. This made Fergusson even grumpier, since he disliked being thwarted in any way, but Killian didn’t care.

‘It’s almost too good an opportunity,’ Fergusson grumbled whenever the subject came up. It was as though he was jealous of Killian’s freedom to go on such a voyage. He glowered from under his wild eyebrows, like an angry badger that had been cornered and didn’t know how to escape the trap. ‘I had only just got used to having a second pair of hands here in the office,’ was another of his complaints. ‘Now Holm will be run off his feet again. I suppose I’ll have to pay someone else to take over your duties. More money spent which I can ill afford.’

This last statement was patently false, since Killian had seen several fat pouches of silver in the strongbox. He didn’t say anything, however, just exchanged a look with Holm behind Fergusson’s back. The Swede had been very pleased for him and commended him on his quick thinking in asking Campbell for employment.

‘You could do worse,’ had been Holm’s comment, which for him was praise indeed. ‘If I wasn’t too old, I’d join you.’ He raised his eyes heavenward now as if praying for patience while Fergusson ranted on, but remained silent as well.

‘I expect you to do your utmost to further my interests,’ Fergusson continued. ‘If you think you’re going to profit mightily from this yourself, then think again. Your share will be moderate, but then you’re learning so much which will be compensation enough, I should think. You’ll have to use most of your
pacotill
on my account, of course. I am after all the one allowing you leave to go, so try to spot some good bargains.’

Killian swore to himself that Fergusson would only ever see a very small percentage of any profit he made on his own trade goods. He was determined to maximise this. In order to find out the best goods to bring, he talked to anyone who had ever had anything to do with China trade. Holm made a few suggestions as well. In the end, he decided to buy finely wrought clocks, binoculars and other mechanical things. Apparently the Chinese liked those. He also bought some delicate silver and gold snuff boxes, which he was told were highly valued, and he very much hoped this was right.

Killian asked Campbell not to mention that he wanted to be an investor himself. ‘My grandfather might not want it known,’ he told him. The reminder of the connection with Lord Rosyth worked wonders. Campbell promised not to tell a soul, least of all Fergusson, whom he didn’t seem to like very much.

The only other person to whom Killian revealed his plans was Captain Craig, who had returned yet again. ‘And I’m sorry to leave you to do everything yourself for so long. Will you be able to carry on trading while I’m gone?’ he added.

‘Of course, I’ll continue as we have begun.’ Craig didn’t seem fazed. ‘There should be a tidy sum waiting for you when you return. Everything’s been running smoothly so far and there’s no reason there should be any problems. Don’t you worry about a thing, your money and your ship will be safe with me.’

‘And you won’t tell anyone it’s mine, unless I don’t come back?’

‘I swear to keep it a secret, if that’s what you want.’

‘Good. I’ll draw up a will to say you’re to have half the value of it in the event of my death. The other half, I want paid to my grandfather, just to show the old crosspatch I’m not the wastrel he thinks I am.’

Craig chuckled. ‘Wouldn’t that surprise him, eh? I’ll see it’s done, never fear, but I pray you’ll return safely so it won’t be necessary.’

Killian was grateful to have such a stalwart ally, and was sure the captain could be trusted. The
Lady Madeleine
would be in safe hands.

Having realised how much more profit could be made from investing in the China trade, however, he set about trying to increase his present capital as much as he could. He began to play for much higher stakes when he gambled. Soon his reputation increased to the point where even some of the young Swedish noblemen in town sought him out. One such came marching into
The White Hart
one evening and headed straight for Killian’s table.

‘I hear you don’t play like your penny-pinching countrymen,’ the man said by way of introduction and sat down without so much as a by your leave. ‘That’s if you’re Kinross, of course?’

The man had addressed him in Swedish and fortunately Killian had now reached a stage where he could understand most things. Although his grammar and pronunciation still weren’t perfect, he had no trouble joining in a normal conversation. Annoyance at the slur on his countrymen made him clench his jaw, but he decided against commenting.

‘That’s right, I am.’ Killian looked the man up and down and didn’t much like what he saw.

Tall and fairly good-looking, the Swede had an air of petulance and arrogance that grated. He raised Killian’s hackles from the outset. He wore a coat of crimson brocade decorated with an enormous number of gold buttons. They must have cost a small fortune, and his silver shoe buckles were much larger than necessary. Killian decided the man obviously had more money than sense, which was all to the good. Such men were usually careless in the extreme and therefore precisely the right sort to gamble with. With this in mind, Killian bowed and asked politely, ‘And you are …?’

‘Karl Adelsten.’

The name rang a bell and Killian soon realised who the man was – none other than Miss van Sandt’s former suitor. He regarded Adelsten more critically, wondering what she had seen in such an oaf. He had to admit that to a woman he might seem like a good catch and his social standing probably had a lot to do with it as well. Still, he was surprised that Miss van Sandt should have fallen for Adelsten. Perhaps he had never shown her anything but his most charming manner, which was clearly not the case this evening.

‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,’ Killian lied. ‘And do I take it you want to play a game of dice with me, or do you perhaps prefer cards?’

‘Cards. Dice are for sailors and other scum.’

Killian raised his eyebrows at such rudeness, but didn’t comment.

Adelsten looked around at Killian’s companions. They happened to be James McEvoy and Graham Frazer, just like on his first night in Sweden. ‘What about you? You want to play too?’ Adelsten asked them.

They both shook their heads. ‘No, he cleaned us out yesterday. We’ll have to wait until next pay day now.’

Killian swore inwardly. He didn’t need anyone advertising his luck any more than it was already. Fortunately, Adelsten didn’t seem put off by this statement at all. He only guffawed as if he thought it a great joke.

‘Well, what are you waiting for? Call for a new deck of cards, Kinross.’

Killian did so, and their game began. He was pleased Adelsten had chosen cards, rather than dice. That meant he would be able to use cunning and his good memory instead of just relying on Lady Luck. At first, he was careful not to wager too much. He wanted to lull Adelsten into a false sense of security. He ordered wine and gave the young nobleman the lion’s share. The Swede didn’t notice, he was so intent on their game. His face, a bit puffy from constant over-indulgence of all things culinary, became flushed with the heat of the room and his intense concentration. When he started to lose steadily, it turned ever more puce.

‘Damn it all, man, you can’t possibly have such luck,’ he exclaimed at one point.

Killian shrugged. ‘Not always, no. Would you rather we continued the game some other time? I really ought to be going anyway.’ He didn’t point out that some of Adelsten’s ill-judged choices during the game were more to blame for his losses than any luck on Killian’s part.

Adelsten glared at him. ‘Oh no, you can’t leave yet. You’re staying until I’ve had a chance to win that little pile back.’ He indicated the mound of silver coins currently lying next to Killian.

‘Very well, as you wish.’

He played a few careless hands, allowing Adelsten to win back a little of the silver he had lost. Then he concentrated hard and won it all back and much more besides. When the taproom was almost empty of customers, Adelsten slapped his cards down onto the table with a bellow of frustration. He stood up, swaying slightly. ‘Devil take it,’ he swore. ‘It’s obviously not my evening, but I’ll have my revenge another time. You’ll not deny me another game?’

‘Of course not,’ Killian replied. ‘I’m here most nights and I’d be happy to play whenever you wish.’

‘Then I’d best go home and do the pretty to my wife, so she comes up with some more of her family’s riches.’ Adelsten sneered. ‘Only thing she’s good for at the moment, in her condition.’

From this comment Killian gathered that Mrs Adelsten was with child and her only function, in her husband’s opinion, was to breed heirs and share her fortune. Such free speaking about a wife the man should have cherished gave Killian even more of a disgust of Adelsten than he already felt. He pitied the poor woman and could only be grateful on Miss van Sandt’s behalf that she had escaped such a fate.

‘I look forward to seeing you another time then,’ he said, accompanying this lie with a smile. He waited until Adelsten had weaved his unsteady way out of the door before gathering up his winnings.

McEvoy, who was the only one to have stayed and watched the entire game, puffed out his cheeks and shook his head. ‘What an arse,’ he said succinctly. ‘I’m surprised you managed to keep your temper with him. I would have punched him on the nose halfway through the evening, if not before.’

Killian grinned. ‘I think I’ve hurt him much worse by taking all his silver. My guess is he’ll be out of pocket for quite a while now. To have to go crawling to his wife for more will annoy him no end.’

McEvoy laughed and slapped him on the back. ‘Aye, you’re probably right about that.’ He raised an arm to wave at Murdoch, who was yawning hugely, waiting for them to leave. As always, the innkeeper was reluctant to lose even a penny of possible earnings. ‘Landlord, a drink to celebrate my friend’s wisdom here, if you please.’

‘Have you ever been to Sweden, Allan?’

Farquhar was sitting in the darkest corner of a rather seedy tavern with his spy. He’d made sure they were nowhere near anyone who could overhear their conversation. This was essential for what he had to say. He’d even gone so far as to wear a wig to make sure his ruddy hair wasn’t noticed, although it wasn’t such a violent shade of red that it stood out unduly.

‘Sweden, Mr Kinross? No, I don’t think as I have. Why would I want to go there?’

‘Because it might be worth your while.’ Farquhar paused while this sank in and understanding dawned on his companion.

‘Ah, of course. Lovely country, so I hear,’ Allan said with a grin.

‘Indeed, and if you’re willing to travel there, I have a little job for you. Could be worth a tidy sum.’ Farquahar put his hand in his pocket and clinked a few coins together for emphasis.

Allan’s eyes lit up with greed. ‘Any time, Mr Kinross. I’m at your disposal, you know that. What would you have me do?’

‘The thing is, my cousin Killian seems to have taken up residence over there and I quite like not having him around. Edinburgh is a much more peaceful place without him. I’d be even happier if Sweden should become his final destination, if you take my meaning.’

Farquhar stared at Allan to see whether the man would baulk at murder. He had made it his business to find out if there were any rumours of Allan having a hand in such things before. This had proved the case, so he was confident it wouldn’t be the first time the man had done away with someone.

‘Oh, aye, I see what you mean. Accidents happen, right? ’Specially on foreign soil. Never can trust foreigners, now can you? Bunch o’ heathens.’

‘Precisely my point. I’m glad we understand each other.’ Farquhar extracted a money pouch from his pocket and held it out to the man. ‘My cousin can be found in the town of Gothenburg. From what I hear it’s not very large so he shouldn’t be too hard to locate. Here is half the sum I’m willing to pay you for your services, plus expenses for the journey. The other half will be yours when the deed is done.’

‘Fair enough.’ Allan pocketed the money with almost indecent haste. ‘I’ll set about finding a ship then.’

‘Very good. And Allan?’

‘Yes, Mr Kinross?’

‘You will be discreet, won’t you? I don’t want there to be any suspicious circumstances, you hear?’

Allan shook his head. ‘You can trust me. Won’t no one be any the wiser, I swear.’

‘Good. On your way then, and report back to me as soon as you can.’

Farquhar watched as the man threaded his way through the tables towards the door and left without a backward glance. He had never taken quite such a drastic step before and a trickle of perspiration ran down his back as fear settled like a hard lump in the pit of his stomach. To his surprise he also felt a measure of regret. Somehow, he had always hoped Killian would solve the problem for him by dying young like his brothers. With the kind of life he led, it had seemed more than likely, but now Farquhar couldn’t wait any longer. He hardened his resolve. This was no time for doubts. Killian had to be got rid of and like Allan had said, accidents happened.