Chapter 139: The Possibility of Cooperation
The moment Davey stepped into the Braithwaite Manor mansion, the banquet officially began.
It was clearly a private affair—Davey, his two men, and Hosea were the only outsiders present.
On the Braithwaite side were the elderly Lady Catherine and her three sons.
Once Davey took his seat, footsteps echoed from the staircase.
Instinctively, he looked up and saw a young, beautiful woman dressed in elegant finery, descending the stairs with poised grace.
As the cherished jewel of the Braithwaite family, Penelope certainly had reason to be proud.
Even Davey’s gaze flickered for a moment.
“This is Mr. Callander, Penelope. Come, sit beside Mr. Callander. You young people may have more to talk about.”
Lady Catherine called out with a smile.
Davey was indeed handsome, but Penelope showed no particular reaction.
“Hello, Mr. Callander,” Penelope said as she approached, giving a slight curtsey.
“Hello, lovely Miss Penelope. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Davey replied politely.
Watching them, Lady Catherine felt increasingly confident in her plan’s success.
With Penelope present, the banquet truly began.
And Hosea, far from seeming out of place, slipped effortlessly into the role of the evening’s mood-maker.
His humor and light teasing even drew a faint, unusual spark from Lady Catherine’s eyes.
The charm of an older man clearly hit twice as hard with an older woman.
After fine food, good wine, and a series of jokes warming the atmosphere, the banquet finally reached its real purpose.
Lady Catherine spoke first:
“Mr. Callander, I heard you visited the Gray family estate recently and met old Mr. Gray.”
“Oh, those drunks who spend all day soaked in liquor. I hope they didn’t offend you.”
“You know, sir, the Braithwaites and the Grays have been sworn enemies for over a hundred years. We’ve always wanted the other wiped out, but things aren’t as simple as they seem.”
“Mr. Callander, would you be willing to help the Braithwaite family deal with the Gray family? If so, I’m sure Penelope would be very pleased.”
“Perhaps our Braithwaite family could form an even closer bond with you, sir.”
Her words were so direct that Penelope lowered her head in shy irritation. She felt like her family had reduced her to a bargaining chip.
But Davey wasn’t swayed in the slightest. He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin and said bluntly,
“Mrs. Braithwaite, I’ll speak plainly.”
“I’m in the moonshine business, and the Braithwaite family is in the moonshine business. We’re competitors—aren’t we?”
“Just over half a month ago, my moonshine operation at Emerald Ranch in New Hanover was attacked by the Laramie Gang. Those sewer rats killed my men and my partner.”
“It caused tremendous damage to my business and my reputation. And I still haven’t caught them.”
“The Gray family sent word saying that one of the parties behind hiring the Laramie Gang… was the Braithwaite family.”
“Mrs. Braithwaite, my operations have always stayed within New Hanover. I’ve never even expanded to Annesburg or Van Horn Trading Port. I never crossed any lines—yet the Braithwaite family came after me.”
“Doesn’t that deserve a proper explanation? Mrs. Braithwaite!”
“Or do you think I’m someone you can push around? Do you think that Italian of yours is enough to make me swallow the loss and keep quiet?”
By this point, Davey’s tone was openly accusatory.
Even surrounded by a room full of Braithwaite guards, he showed no trace of fear.
The atmosphere tightened.
Hosea looked at Davey with outright astonishment—he hadn’t expected Davey to pressure the Braithwaite family so forcefully.
Lady Catherine felt a spark of anger rise, but she suppressed it well.
“Mr. Callander, I am willing to apologize for the offense. Hiring the Laramie Gang was the decision of several distillery managers.”
“Behind them are the magnates of the major distilleries. Compared to them, the small Braithwaite family is insignificant.”
“I was forced into participating—it was never my intention.”
“And although we run a moonshine operation, most of our distribution is arranged under Mr. Bronte’s direction. Our family works for him.”
“Mr. Bronte wrote to me saying he is very interested in your moonshine, Mr. Callander. If you’re willing, we can work together—produce more moonshine and sell it in Annesburg, Van Horn Trading Port, Saint Denis, even farther.”
“Believe me, Mr. Callander, it would be a truly remarkable partnership.”
By the end, Lady Catherine’s eyes were practically glowing.
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