Devil's Embrace (Devil 1)

“I suppose so, my lord,” she said doubtfully.

“A bit more enthusiasm, if you please,” he said, and opened the thick double doors to the library. He stepped back to allow Cassie to precede him.

Signore Montalto looked up from his chair, clearly startled. He looked to the earl, expecting him to peremptorily dismiss the girl. But the earl appeared unperturbed at Signore Montalto’s stiff countenance, and planted a guileless smile on his face.

“You are enjoying the party, I trust, Marcello,” he said easily. “You, of course, have made the acquaintance of Signorina Brougham.”

Signore Montalto rose ponderously from his chair and offered Cassie a stiff bow.

“You will share a glass of sherry with us, signore?” The earl added smoothly, an imp of mischief compelling him, “Marcello is here, Cassandra, to discuss a rather thorny problem with me. Perhaps you would not mind giving us your opinion.” Much to his delight, a slight smile indented the corners of her mouth, and she inclined her head in graceful assent.

“I would be delighted, my lord, to provide you whatever assistance I can.”

She graciously accepted a chair held for her by the flustered Marcello, settled her heavy skirts about her, and sipped the sherry the earl offered her.

The earl said, “It involves a Dutch shipping group trading with the southern colonies in America, which has recently suffered rather large financial losses. The losses are, unfortunately, much my concern, since I provided much of the capital. A Dutch representative has brought Marcello a proposal that he believes will pay us handsomely. You may tell la signorina, Marcello.”

Cassie turned her eyes from the earl’s sardonic expression and fastened them on Signore Montalto’s heavy jowled face. He seemed to struggle with himself to speak, and Cassie barely managed to suppress a grin of amusement.

“As you know, signorina,” Signore Montalto began ponderously, imagining full well that she knew nothing at all, “England’s southern colonies are exporting more cotton and tobacco by the year. Even their timber is gaining in importance as the English denude their own forests.”

Cassie tried to curb her impatience at his condescending tone. “Your point, signore?”

Signore Montalto tugged uncomfortably at his black waistcoat. “The Dutch trade has been primarily with the West Indies. Pirates and Caribbean storms have brought them—and his lordship—substantial losses, and thus, their recent shift to trade with the colonies.”

“A logical course, it would seem to me, signore.”

“Ah, but there is more, Cassandra.” The earl waved Marcello to continue. Cassie was aware that the earl was regarding her intently, and she grew more alert.

“For every cause, there is an effect,” Marcello said grandly. “The southern colonists have constant need of

labor for their cotton and tobacco plantations. The Dutch proposal, a proposal, I might add, that meets with my approval, is simply to capture African savages, transport them to the colonies and sell them to the plantation owners. Immediately, there is a sizable profit. Cotton, tobacco, and timber could be brought back to England and Europe, and thus the profit is doubled.”

“I am not certain that I understand, signore,” Cassie said. “You believe that we should encourage, through our financial backing, the capture of people to be sold as slaves in a foreign country?”

“People,” Marcello scoffed. “They are naught but savages, dear lady. Their only value is that they breed at an appalling rate and work well in the fields.”

“And how does one go about capturing these savages, signore? Are they trapped?”

“Oh no,” Marcello hastened to correct her, “trapping would mutilate them and lessen their value at auction. They are like children, signorina, and can be herded together quite readily with but one musket shot over their heads.”

“How odd it is that you now liken them to children. If it is true that they live in a state of primitive innocence, like children, then they should be protected from predators.”

“Perhaps calling them ‘children’ was unfortunate,” Marcello ground out. He shot a silent plea toward the earl, but received only an ironic smile.

“Everyone buys and sells these black beggars. Even the Church is not certain that they have souls.”

“And, of course, they do not speak the civilized Italian tongue, do they, signore?”

“No, ’tis gibberish they utter. One can make no sense of them at all.”

Cassie slowly rose from her chair. As Signore Montalto was not a tall man, she was very nearly at his eye level. “So it is your proposal, signore, that we should agree to the capture and sale of innocent men and women to fatten our coffers.”

“I have told you, signorina, that they are animals, uncivilized savages.”

“It is very curious, you know,” Cassie said. “I was very near to believing that the Italians held no claim to civilization, since they do not speak the English tongue and do such barbaric things as locking their female children away in convents. But look how very wrong I was.”

Signore Montalto turned a mottled red, and the earl intervened. “So, Cassandra, we will agree to leave the Africans to other, less scrupulous, men. However, my dear, our financial problem still remains.”