“I’ve no doubt you would,” West said. “But I am not here to destroy you, however much I would like to do just that.”
Tremley’s gaze went curious. “What then?”
“I’m here to offer you a trade.”
The earl immediately understood. “My secrets for yours.”
“Precisely.” The thrill of the win shot through him.
“Tit for tat.”
He’d last heard the phrase on Georgiana’s lips. He hated hearing it on Tremley’s. He inclined his head. “However you would like to define it. I prefer to call it the end of your dominion over me.”
Tremley looked at him with thorough vitriol. “I could kill you now.”
“You should have killed me years ago,” West said. “Your problem is that you enjoyed using me.”
“No one would ever doubt my innocence if I did it,” Tremley pointed out.
“Killing me would never free you from the fear of discovery. You see, I am not the only one who has the proof of your transgressions.”
There was a long silence as the earl considered the possible identities of West’s coconspirator, shock finally flashing when he realized the truth. “Chase?”
West did not reply.
Tremley swore harshly, then laughed, shrill and humorless, the sound unsettling. Duncan did his best to remain still, to affect a state of utter calm. “You think you’ve won,” Tremley said. “And perhaps you would have if it were merely you and me in the game.” He paused. “But you brought in a third player. And in doing so, you’ve lost everything to him.”
The words sent a chill through Duncan, but he said, “I doubt that.”
Tremley laughed again, the sound turning cold. Humorless. “You’ve made a terrible mistake getting into bed with Chase. Sharing information with him. You think he won’t hesitate to destroy me if need be? Hell, if he has even an inkling to do so? When has Chase ever hesitated to end a man?” Duncan heard the truth in the words. Knew instantly what came next, but could not understand how he had not seen it before. “Our fates are intertwined now, by your design,” Tremley said. “If Chase ruins me, I ruin you.”
Christ.
“So you see, you may no longer have to worry about me,” said the earl, “but now you must worry about Chase.” He looked down at the floor, seeming suddenly much more comfortable with the events of the morning. “And he is not the kind of dog easily kept on a leash.”
When he returned his gaze to Duncan, it was to issue a dark, cold-blooded order. “Now he is the enemy, Jamie. He is the one who must be silenced.”
How had he not seen it?
He collected his coat and hat from the Tremley butler, and headed for the door, prepared to exit the town house and head to his office to spend the day researching Chase.
How had he not seen it?
How had he been so very off his game that he had not recognized that the information Chase had offered him had the power to destroy even if Duncan himself never used it? Had he been blinded by power? By the heady promise of freedom?
He’d like to say yes. He’d like to say every moment – every step of this plan – had been in service to a vengeful, blinding god who wanted nothing more than for Duncan and Cynthia to be free of Tremley and his horrifying hold. Certainly, that would have been the reason a year ago. A month ago. A week ago.
But as a man who lived lies so well, he did not care much for lying to himself, and so he admitted, there, on one side of the great door of Tremley House, that he hadn’t seen the logical flaw in his reasoning because of the woman who was so exquisitely tied to this particular exchange of information.
She was exquisitely tied to Chase, as well.
Chase, the puppet master, who set them all to dancing on his whim.
I do not like it when you do not share.
Even the words in the note, delivered with a parcel of information that Chase could never have imagined existed, made certain that West knew who was in control of their partnership. And now that Chase had the information on Tremley, it was only a matter of time before he either decided to use it or wondered why West wasn’t using it.
And then he’d have to explain everything to this man shrouded in darkness and mystery, who was reviled and adored in equal measure. Sometimes by the same person. He thought of Georgiana again, knowing that her actions had, from the start, been the result of Chase’s threats. Of Chase’s power.
West left the house, the main door closing sharply behind him, loud enough for him to hear its meaning – Do not return.
Surely she reviled Chase more than she adored him.
Shouldn’t she?
He thought of his mother, who had never found the strength to choose revulsion. Dear God. Was it possible that Georgiana was the same?
His mind reeled. Now, with Tremley’s secrets known and his own valuable enough to threaten his future, West had no choice but to go after Chase. And if he did, the outcome was not debatable – he had to win without hesitation. Without any question.
And to do that, he had to go after the only thing Chase held dear.
His identity.
Tit for tat. Chase’s name to protect his own.
To protect Cynthia.
To protect Georgiana.
But what then? Georgiana still wouldn’t be his. She still couldn’t be his. He couldn’t marry her. Couldn’t give her the life she deserved. The life she wanted.
It did not matter, he realized as he stood outside his enemy’s home, all of Mayfair around him, as he’d still not be enough for her.