The sun was setting by the time they reached Weston Manor.
Alex and Lisa stood at the iron gates, looking up at the estate. It was bigger than Alex had expected. Three stories of dark stone with tall windows that caught the dying light. Manicured gardens stretched out on either side, hedges trimmed into perfect shapes. A gravel path led to the main entrance where two lanterns already burned against the approaching darkness.
"This bastard has money," Lisa muttered.
"Yeah."
A servant opened the gates without a word and gestured for them to follow. They walked up the path in silence. Alex's mind was racing, going over the plan again and again.
The front door opened before they reached it. Another servant, older this time, with a carefully neutral expression. "Master Weston is expecting you. Please, come in."
The entrance hall was all polished wood and expensive tapestries. Candles burned in iron sconces along the walls. Everything screamed wealth, carefully displayed wealth meant to impress visitors.
Edmund appeared at the top of the stairs, his face breaking into a wide smile when he saw them. "Ah! My foreign friends! Right on time!" He descended the stairs quickly, then stopped when he saw Lisa. His smile widened into something more amused. "And the hero brought company! How delightful!"
Lisa's expression didn't change. "Edmund."
"Please, call me Master Weston. We are in my home, after all." His tone was light, mocking. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you again. After yesterday's... theatrics in the market, I thought you might have the good sense to leave York entirely."
"Disappointed?" Lisa asked.
"Not at all! In fact, I find it rather entertaining. You cause quite the scene trying to 'rescue' poor Mary, and now here you are, in my home, at my invitation." Edmund laughed. "Life has a wonderful sense of irony, doesn't it?"
"Something like that."
Edmund turned his attention to Alex, his smile becoming more businesslike. "Now, I assume this... passionate companion of yours has a reason for being here? Or did you simply bring her along for moral support?"
"She's my partner," Alex said flatly.
"Partner?" Edmund's eyebrows rose. "In what capacity?"
"Business. We work together."
Edmund looked between them, something calculating in his expression. "I see. How modern of you." He gestured toward a set of double doors. "Well then. Shall we discuss this business? I have wine from Bordeaux. Quite excellent."
"Actually," Edmund paused, looking at Lisa again, "I prefer to discuss business matters privately. Man to man, as it were. Surely your... partner understands the value of discretion in delicate negotiations?"
Lisa's jaw tightened but Alex spoke before she could. "She understands."
"Wonderful!" Edmund snapped his fingers and one of the servants appeared. "Show the lady to the sitting room. Bring her refreshments." Then he reconsidered. "Actually, Thomas!"
The younger bodyguard from the market appeared from a side corridor. Up close, Alex could see he was maybe twenty-five, with tired eyes that had seen too much.
"Yes, Master Weston?"
"Escort the lady around the grounds if she wishes. Make sure she's... comfortable." Edmund's tone was pleasant but there was an edge to it. A reminder. Watch her.
Thomas nodded. "Of course, sir."
Lisa met Alex's eyes for just a second. The plan was working.
Edmund clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Now, shall we?" He gestured toward the study.
Alex followed him through the double doors. The study was exactly what he'd expected. More dark wood, a massive desk covered in papers and ledgers, shelves lined with books that probably had never been read. A fire crackled in the fireplace despite the warm evening.
Edmund poured two glasses of wine from a crystal decanter. "Please, sit."
Alex took the chair across from the desk. Edmund handed him the wine and settled into his own chair with a satisfied sigh.
"So," Edmund said, leaning back. "Let's talk honestly. You're clearly a man of means. That coat you're wearing, the quality of it, that's not local craftsmanship. And ten gold coins?" He whistled softly. "Most men in York won't see that much in their lifetime. Yet you throw it around to save a slave girl you don't even know."
"I don't like seeing children beaten in the street."
"Admirable. Naive, but admirable." Edmund sipped his wine. "But I don't think you're just some soft-hearted fool. No. A man with your resources? You're calculating. So tell me. What do you really want?"
"The girl. That's all."
"Mmm." Edmund set down his glass. "About that. I'm afraid there's a complication."
"What complication?"
"Mary broke something in my household. A family heirloom." Edmund's voice was grave, rehearsed. "A ceramic vase that belonged to my grandfather. Priceless, really. Not in terms of gold, but in terms of sentiment. History. Legacy."
Alex felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Just as expected. He'd called it perfectly.
"So you're not giving her up," Alex said.
"I can't. It's a matter of principle. That girl destroyed something irreplaceable." Edmund leaned forward. "Her life belongs to me until that debt is settled. And some debts can't be settled with coin."
Alex let the silence stretch out. Let Edmund think he'd won.
Then Alex said, "What if I could offer you something better than ten gold?"
Edmund's eyebrows rose. "Better? What could be better than gold?"
"A partnership."
"A partnership?"
"You're a businessman. A successful one, from what I can see. But even successful men can always use more opportunity." Alex leaned back in his chair, projecting confidence. "I have connections. Resources. Access to markets you don't."
Edmund's expression shifted from skeptical to interested. "What kind of markets?"
"The same kind you're already in. Just bigger. More profitable."
Understanding flickered in Edmund's eyes. "Go on."
"The trade in labor. Slaves. You're operating on a local scale, buying debts, collecting collateral. But there's a much larger market out there. One that spans regions, countries. One that deals in volume."
Edmund leaned forward, his interest clearly piqued. "You're talking about the slave trade."
"I'm talking about profit. Serious profit. The kind that makes ten gold look like pocket change."
Edmund studied him for a long moment. Then he laughed. "This is rich. You save a slave girl in the market, make this grand heroic gesture, and now you want to discuss entering the slave trade?" He shook his head, amused. "What kind of man are you?"
"A practical one. I used the opportunity to get close to you. If I'd come as just another merchant looking for partnership, would you have given me the time of day?"
"Probably not," Edmund admitted.
"Exactly. So I made myself interesting. Made myself memorable. And now here we are, discussing business."
Edmund's smile widened. "I like you. You think several steps ahead. That's rare." He stood and walked to the window, looking out at his manicured gardens. "You know, I've always thought about expanding. My warehouses are profitable, yes. My lending business is steady. But the real opportunity, the one I've been building toward, is exactly what you're describing. A larger operation. More volume. Better margins."
"Then we want the same things."
"Perhaps." Edmund turned back to him. "But I need to understand what you're offering. You say you have connections. What kind?"
"Supply routes. Contacts in other cities. Ways to move goods that don't attract attention." Alex kept his voice steady and confident. "The infrastructure for a real operation, not just local dealings."
Edmund was quiet for a long moment, calculating. "And what do you want in return?"
"A share of the profits. And the girl."
"Mary again." Edmund sighed. "You really are fixated on her, aren't you?"
"Call it a personal quirk. I don't like loose ends."
"A loose end." Edmund laughed. "She's a slave, not a business liability."
"To me, she's both. I made a public show of buying her. If I leave York without her, it looks weak. Like I was played." Alex met his eyes. "I don't like looking weak."
Edmund nodded slowly. "I can understand that. Reputation matters in business." He walked back to his desk. "Here's what I propose. Tomorrow, I show you my operation. My warehouses, my network, how I move goods and manage labor. You see what I've built, and we discuss the specifics of this partnership."
"And if I'm satisfied?"
"Then we have a deal. You bring your connections and resources, I provide the local infrastructure and expertise, and we split the profits." Edmund paused. "And yes, you can have Mary. Consider her a gesture of good faith."
"Tomorrow then."
"Tomorrow. But not here. I want you to see how things really work." Edmund's smile returned. "We'll meet at the market. Dawn. That's where everything happens, where deals are made, where goods change hands. If you want to understand my operation, you need to see it where it lives."
'Perfect,' Alex thought. 'Exactly where we need him.'
'Did Bess get the word out?'
'Good.'
Edmund poured more wine, his mood clearly elevated. "You know, when I saw you in the market yesterday, I thought you were just another idealistic fool. But this?" He raised his glass. "This is business. Real business. To new partnerships and serious profit."
They drank. Edmund was practically glowing with excitement now, already calculating future earnings in his head.
They talked for another hour. Edmund outlining his current operations, his contacts, his vision for expansion. Alex nodding and agreeing and hating every second of it.
---
Outside, Lisa walked through the gardens with Thomas following a few steps behind.
The bodyguard was quiet, his hand resting on his club more out of habit than threat. Lisa could feel his eyes on her back, watching.
She stopped near a fountain, pretending to admire it. "Beautiful estate," she said.
Thomas didn't respond.
"You've worked here long?"
"Long enough," he said finally. His voice was rough, tired.
Lisa turned to face him. "That's not really an answer."
"It's the answer you get."
She studied him. Up close, she could see the weariness in his face more clearly. The way his shoulders were tense. The way his jaw was clenched like he was constantly holding something back.
"You don't like your job," Lisa said. It wasn't a question.
Thomas's eyes narrowed. "What I like doesn't matter."
"Everyone's job matters. Especially when it involves watching your employer beat children in public."
His expression hardened. "Careful."
"Why? You going to report me to Edmund? Tell him the foreign woman asked uncomfortable questions?" Lisa took a step closer. "Or are you going to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about? Pretend you didn't see what he did to Mary yesterday?"
"That's not your concern."
"It is when I watched it happen. When I saw your face while he did it." Lisa's voice was quiet but intense. "You didn't like it. I saw that much."
Thomas's hand tightened on his club. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you're not like him. I know you're not comfortable with what you saw."
"What I'm comfortable with doesn't change anything. I have a job. I do my job."
"Even when your job means watching an eleven year old get beaten bloody?"
Thomas's jaw clenched tighter. He looked away, toward the darkening gardens. "You should watch your mouth. You're a guest here. Guests can be asked to leave."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's advice."
They stood in tense silence. Lisa could see the conflict in him, clear as day. He wasn't like Edmund. He wasn't like the older bodyguard who watched everything with dead eyes. This one still had something human left in him.
She needed to use that.
"How much does he pay you?" Lisa asked.
Thomas looked at her sharply. "What?"
"Edmund. How much does he pay you to stand there and watch while he destroys children?"
"That's none of your business."
"I'm guessing not enough. Not nearly enough for what he asks you to do." Lisa kept her voice even, conversational. "Men like Edmund, they always underpay. They think loyalty can be bought cheap."
"What are you getting at?"
"I'm getting at the fact that you clearly hate this job. Hate what you see. Hate what you're forced to be part of." Lisa took another step closer. "So why keep doing it?"
"Because I need to eat. Because my family needs money. Because jobs aren't easy to find." Thomas's voice was harsh now, defensive. "Not everyone has the luxury of choosing moral employment."
"What if you did have a choice?"
"I don't."
"What if you had enough money to walk away? To never have to watch something like yesterday again?"
Thomas stared at her. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about an opportunity. A way out."
"You're insane."
"Maybe. But I'm also serious." Lisa glanced back toward the manor, making sure no one else was around. "Edmund's going to fall. Soon. And when he does, the people who helped him? They're going to fall with him. But the people who stood against him?" She met his eyes. "They'll be remembered differently."
"You're talking about betraying my employer."
"I'm talking about doing the right thing."
"The right thing doesn't pay."
"I can." Lisa said it flatly. "More than Edmund pays you. More than he could ever pay you. Enough that you never have to take a job like this again."
Thomas laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You're a foreign woman with no money, no power, no connections. What could you possibly offer me?"
"My companion has resources. You saw how easily he produced ten gold coins. That's nothing to him." Lisa kept her voice steady. "Help us, and you'll be compensated. Well compensated."
"Help you do what?"
"Save a child from a monster. And make sure that monster gets what he deserves."
Thomas was quiet for a long moment. The conflict on his face was clear now. Temptation warring with self-preservation.
"Even if I wanted to help, which I'm not saying I do, what could I do? I'm just a bodyguard. I don't have access to anything important."
"You have access to this house. To Edmund's schedule. To information." Lisa's voice was intense now. "And when the time comes, you'll have a choice. Stand with him or stand against him."
"And if I'm caught?"
"You won't be. Not if you make the right choice at the right time."
"You're asking me to risk everything."
"I'm asking you to choose what kind of man you want to be." Lisa held his gaze. "The kind who watches children suffer for a paycheck? Or the kind who does something about it?"
Thomas looked away again. His hand was shaking slightly on his club.
"I saw your face yesterday," Lisa said quietly. "In the market. When Edmund was beating Mary. You wanted to stop him. I could see it. You hated what you were watching."
"Wanting something and doing something are different things."
"Not always. Sometimes all it takes is one decision. One moment of courage."
"Courage." Thomas laughed bitterly. "Courage doesn't feed my family."
"Neither does cowardice. It just eats at you until there's nothing left."
They stood in silence again. The sun had fully set now and the gardens were dark except for the lanterns along the path.
"How much?" Thomas asked quietly.
"Excuse me?"
"You said compensation. How much are you offering?"
Lisa hadn't expected him to ask so directly. "Twenty gold."
His eyes widened. "Twenty..."
"Twenty gold. More than you'd make in five years working for Edmund. Maybe ten years." Lisa kept her voice steady. "Enough to take care of your family. Enough to never have to take a job like this again."
Thomas was quiet, processing.
"But only if you help us," Lisa added. "Only if you're willing to stand against Edmund when the time comes."
"Stand against him how?"
"I need to know what you know. About Mary. About what happens in this house. About Edmund's business." Lisa paused. "And when tomorrow comes, I need to know you won't stand in our way."
Thomas looked toward the manor, then back at her. His expression was conflicted, calculating, afraid.
Finally, he spoke. "What exactly do you need?"