Page 101 of The Time for Love
During the luncheon in St. James’ Street when they’d explained all to the assembled throng—to the might of Sheffield, as she’d dubbed them—they’d discussed the best way to get Blackwell to quit the town entirely, including selling the land he’d acquired. Martin had explained his reading of Blackwell—all speculation as, at that point, they hadn’t yet met the man—but from his knowledge of Blackwell’s reputation and the way Blackwell had conducted himself with Edward, Martin had insisted that their best way forward was, as far as possible, to treat Blackwell as a legitimate businessman.
There was no gainsaying that his hold on the properties he’d bought was, indeed, legitimate.
Martin had suggested that the surest way to get Blackwell to give up his holdings—and therefore his ambition of establishing himself in Sheffield—was to offer the man a deal.
A business deal. One that would allow Blackwell to walk away without loss, either financial or in standing.
As Martin had the deep pockets required to fund such an offer on the spot and, as he’d added with a glance at her, he had a vested interest in the outcome, he’d offered to buy the titles to all the Sheffield land Blackwell owned.
The more hotheaded of the group had wanted to simply run Blackwell out of town, but the lord mayor and the police commissioner had pointed out that the days when such actions could be condoned were long gone. Then the more senior members of the group—those who wielded the most business clout—had agreed with Martin’s assessment of Blackwell and had backed his plan as the one most likely to secure the outcome they all desired, namely, Blackwell leaving Sheffield permanently.
Eventually, all had accepted that to effectively rid the town of Blackwell, he had to be persuaded that it was in his best interests to leave.
The might of Sheffield had done their part. Now, it was up to Martin.
The silence had stretched for nearly a minute before Blackwell, his entire attention fixed on Martin and his tone distinctly grim, asked, “What’s your offer?”
Martin named a price, and Blackwell’s lashes flickered. He’d expected some other amount; Sophy felt sure he’d expected less.
But that reaction was fleeting, there and gone, and he snorted. “That’s what I paid for the land.”
Unperturbed, Martin nodded. “I know. Given there is now no prospect of you using the land for the purpose you intended, rather than try to take advantage of your situation, I decided that a fair price to offer would be exactly what you invested.”
Eyes narrowing, Blackwell countered, “I bought some of those blocks four years ago.”
Martin inclined his head. “You took a risk purchasing those blocks before you secured the steelworks’ site. As it transpired, that wasn’t a wise decision, and now the project has run into powerful headwinds.”
Blackwell persisted, “Those blocks are worth more than that to me because of the use I intended to put them to.”
“But that’s not going to come to pass. Because of matters outside your control, your Sheffield project is not going to proceed.” Martin lightly shrugged. “Everyone in business suffers reverses from time to time. Isn’t it better to acknowledge that and walk away with your initial investment intact rather than risk further erosion of your capital?”
Blackwell huffed, but he was clearly thinking, susceptible to the business logic Martin was propounding.
More quietly, Martin added, “Of course, as I don’t intend to use the land in anything like the manner you intended, then the value of that land to me is arguably lower.”
Blackwell’s gaze locked on Martin’s face. After a second of studying Martin’s uncommunicative features, Blackwell pursed his lips.
Apparently reading that as some sign, in the same quiet but even tone, Martin went on, “Make no mistake. This is a one-time offer. You can take it or leave it. Either way, it’s no skin off my nose, but of course, both you and I know that the instant you walk out of that door”—he nodded at the door to the outer office—“your chance of selling that land to anyone else at the same price will vanish.”
Blackwell’s expression had blanked again, but there was a watchfulness—a considering weight in his gaze—as he continued to study Martin.
Silence stretched. Sophy was amazed that none of the others ventured to break it, not even by shifting restlessly. Like her, they were hanging on the outcome, and apparently, all were willing to leave the stage to Martin.
Then, his expression hardening, Martin caught and held Blackwell’s gaze. “You know news of this will get out. That’s guaranteed. If you want to preserve your reputation, it would be easy enough to put it about that you’d been misled as to the availability of the Carmichael Steelworks’ site. That business conditions for the steelworks had changed—as, indeed, they have—and that made it impossible for you to acquire the business. Consequently, as the steelworks’ site is central and, more, crucial to the commercial viability of your intended project, you deemed it preferable to pull out of Sheffield entirely, and you were lucky enough to find a buyer willing to take your landholdings off your hands, allowing you to walk away without loss.”
Although Martin hadn’t explicitly stated it, Sophy thought that it couldn’t be clearer that he was offering Blackwell a chance to retreat without losing face among his peers.
She watched while Blackwell absorbed the implications.
Eventually, his gaze steady on Martin’s face, Blackwell nodded. Once. “All right. For the same price I paid for them, then.”
Martin looked across the room at his secretary, Tunstall, who’d been standing in the lord mayor’s shadow.
Tunstall rounded the table and handed Martin a sheaf of documents. “The contracts of sale as requested, sir.”
Blackwell barked out a laugh, quickly smothered. From beneath the shelf of his brow, he regarded Martin with, it seemed, fresh eyes. “Came prepared, did you?”
Sorting through the documents, Martin merely said, “Let’s just say that everyone here wants to see this business settled today. Apropos of that…” He paused to hunt in one pocket, then drew out a folded paper and passed it to Charlie.
