If you love:
witty banter
Bridgerton without the blushes
honorable heroine from notorious family
math genius heroine
adventure regency
You’ll love A Talent for Trouble

Chapter 1

In Which Viscount Beaufort Fantasizes about Drawing a Cork

Just as Leo Astley, Viscount Beaufort, reached Portman Square, the skies opened, and it started to rain. Large drops, soaking his fine merino coat and splashing his boots, turning the world gray and miserable.

As a staunch Londoner, he should know to carry an umbrella in May. Now his perfectly tied cravat would pay the price and give his valet another reason to raise his eyebrows.

Beau looked up, bemused, at the thunderous sky. He’d been sure the sky would stay clear. But then, positivity was his besetting sin, wasn’t it?

Positive of blue skies, positive he’d repay the family debts in record time.

Ha. London tended to rain on that idea, too. If their current streak continued, he’d be running gambling parties in the ballroom until he had one foot in the grave.

He reached the house as thunder clapped overhead, and the rain started in earnest. The glossy black door led to a haven, even if it was a millstone around his neck.

The door swung open, and Merrick, his major-domo, ushered him inside. “I’ll take your hat and coat, my lord.”

“You mean the one that now has the charming aroma of Eau de Wet Sheep?”

Merrick lifted the coat to his nose and grimaced. “I’ll give it straight to Postlethwaite.”

“Send my condolences with it.”

He was about to make his way to the kitchen to see what was warm and fresh, when Merrick caught his arm.

“You have guests, my lord.” His hushed tone suggested they were not the welcome kind. “I put them in your study as her ladyship is in the drawing room and we don’t want her seeing those sneaky coves.”

He scanned the older man’s face, taking in his pinched brow and the worry lines around his flint-gray eyes. As an ex-pugilist, it took a lot to make him show worry, and that could mean only one thing—Beau’s moneylender and accompanying underlings had arrived.

Why that coxcomb thought he had visiting rights was beyond him. He would rather sit down to tea with the night soil man than Mr. Jinx. Of course, given his current—some would say dire—situation, he couldn’t afford to offend the moneylender. At least, not too much. He took a deep breath. “My thanks. Do not call for tea.”

Merrick nodded. “I will stay around should you need me to plant him a facer.”

There was far too much relish in his voice.

“And perhaps have Anthony join you.” The more muscle, the merrier. It was yet another time he was happy to have employed men from the regiment on his staff. They knew trouble when they saw it.

Merrick bowed and strode off, no doubt to find Anthony, but likely Derek as well. They would support him if the need arose. When the need arose.

Beau opened the door of the study to find Jinx sitting at his desk, with two brutes standing on either side. The moneylender looked up and slammed a drawer shut, a wry smile lifting the corners of his mouth. He flipped that infernal gold coin he loved over the top of his hand like a magic trick.

Informants told Beau that Jinx’s many London properties were obtained through a combination of blackmail and extortion. He was building an empire, and the odds he had No. 20 Portman Square on his list of things to acquire were not worth taking. And if he couldn’t win it through Beau defaulting on his loan, he’d likely find a criminal way to get it.

All things Beau had not known on that infamous day five years ago when he agreed to Jinx’s moneylending terms to combine all his father’s debt in one place. At twenty-two, and in the depth of grief, one tended not to think clearly.

“I generally don’t allow people to sit at my desk,” Beau said lightly, closing the door behind him and leaning on it, crossing his arms over his chest. How satisfying would it be to draw his cork? Would Gentleman Jackson approve? Beau spent the next moment in a quiet fantasy of the idea.

At first glance, Jinx looked like a gentleman. His cravat was snowy white and simply tied, his hair cut in a fashionable Brutus crop. But his coat was ill-fitting, and his waistcoat was a gaudy yellow and puce stripe, inappropriate for a morning call. You could dress the ruffian as a gentleman, but he still wouldn’t know when to wear the proper rig at the right time.

Jinx smiled, displaying golden canines. “It will be my desk soon, and I think we both know that.”

“Do we?”

Jinx shrugged. “You’ve missed your payment this month. You agreed to the terms. You know the consequences.”

Beau shrugged a shoulder. “I would never have thought my Faro bank would be broken twice in one week, but there you have it. And I have not missed the payment. It is only the fifteenth. I have another sixteen days before you can truly say I’ve missed it.”

“You always pay by the second week.”

“And I am always two weeks early.” Beau flicked a piece of non-existent fluff off his arm. Much as he would like to do with Jinx. “And surely the extra amounts I have paid should cover this payment?”

The ruffians chortled, their beefy shoulders shaking with mirth.

Jinx leaned back in Beau’s chair, making it creak in protest. “The extra you paid is your problem. Your contract only requires a steady payment each month. Surely you’ve figured out by now none of the extra payments have reduced your interest?” He picked up the white jade phoenix that sat on the desk and turned it over in his hand.

“Yes, I figured that. Would you like to take the phoenix as payment for this month?”

It was Liao Dynasty and solid white jade, but more than that, it represented his dreams for the family, to rise from the ashes of the debt his father had sunk them in. To be resplendent once more. But for the sake of paying down the debt, he’d let it go.

Jinx inspected it and then dropped it into his pocket like it was a penny he’d found on the street. “More like a little insurance. You can have it back when your payment is made.”

Beau flexed his hand as rage itched under his skin. Oh, to pull Jinx by the knot of his cravat and shake him like the sewer rat he was. For almost five years he’d had to deal with one disastrous event after another, and now Jinx thought he could just walk in and take whatever he wanted? “No.”

“No?”

The henchmen stood a little straighter and the one on the right cracked his knuckles.

Beau wanted it to come to fisticuffs, if he were being honest. Was spoiling for it. This was just one in a long line of unnecessary visits with barely veiled threats. “Take it as payment or give it back. My loan has always been unsecured.”

Jinx stood to his full five feet five inches and patted his pocket. “I’ll keep it. You want me happy, I’m sure.”

“Not particularly.” Beau pushed off the door and opened it. “Leave it on the desk or I’ll have Bow Street come and fetch it for me. The choice is yours.”

Jinx’s dark eyes glittered dangerously. “You don’t want me as an enemy.”

“And you don’t want me as one, either. You are nothing but a means to an end.” He yawned, though tension—the readiness to fight—vibrated through every inch of him. “And, as always, I tire of you. Please leave.”

Jinx huffed and put the phoenix down on the desk as though it meant nothing to him. And Beau was sure the object itself did not. But lifting something from a viscount and watching him squirm as you played with him? That was what Jinx lived for.

Beau held the door open and waved his hand in invitation. Jinx and company sauntered out as though they had all day. Merrick was already stationed at the open front door, Beau’s two footmen flanking him.

“Oh, and Mr. Jinx?”

Jinx turned. “Yes, my lord?” He always said the title as though it were a joke.

“That waistcoat is more suited to a night at Vauxhall, and even then, I would think twice. A morning visit calls for more subdued attire. Perhaps my payments should be an hour of sartorial advice per month instead of cash? I hear you are trying to woo a young lady.” Lure would be a more appropriate term. “You’d best be up to scratch.”

“Says the man who lost his fiancée two weeks before the wedding.” Jinx looked at his friends, who dutifully laughed like the hyenas they were, then frowned down at his waistcoat. With puce fabric and yellow flowers, he should by all rights have been blinded instantly.

Beau looked down at his fob watch. “Sage-green or a slate-gray would be more appropriate.”

Jinx scowled, then strode from the house, followed by his men.

Beau watched to make sure he left, then met Merrick’s gaze. “That was easier than I expected. Thank you for your support, as always.”

“I am glad of it, sir, and happy to be of service.” Merrick bowed but as usual, did not smile. “Her Ladyship has asked if you have a moment for her, my lord.”

From one person to whom he owed a debt, to another.

Life was always demanding a payment.

Release Date: August 11 2023

EBook ISBN:978-0-6459056-0-1

Print ISBN: