"We are here only to take what we have been offered." he tried to show the disappointment in his voice but it was full of disdain and as he entered without waiting for any permission, his eyes bored into the maid haughtily.
The maid hesitated, "My lord did not mention it."
"Lord Crestford made a generous offer last night. We have simply come to confirm it. He would not have dared forget such an important matter. Or are you so crude that you blame your master for mistakes made by your irresponsibility?" Velmore interrupted smoothly and then his frown grew deeper. "And who are you anyway? You do not look like a housekeeper or a butler. You are only a simple maid, aren't you? How could you know such details then? Now be a good fellow and announce our arrival. You wouldn't want to be rude to guests."
The maid was shaken. Reluctantly, she nodded and vanished inside. As they waited in the courtyard, the nobles took in their surroundings with sneers and quiet chuckles. The manor was in worse condition if compared to the garden. They could not imagine living here at all.
"Look at that drape," the crooked-nosed merchant said, gesturing toward the window with a moth-eaten curtain. "Was that a blanket once?"
"One would think a man offering double gold could afford something that isn't stitched so many times that it lost its shape and color." the wiry noble added.
"Is that dust on the banister?" said the one with golden rings, faking a gasp. "Heaven forbid! The man's servants can't even polish wood, but he'll pay double the market rate?"
The laughter that followed was full of disdain.
The young maid returned again making them wonder if there was other staff in this ghostly house. Before they could ask more, they were led into a sitting room. The décor inside was tasteful but old. It had bookshelves with worn spines, a faded rug underfoot, and portraits that had not been repainted in years. The table was set for tea, though the cups were of different patterns, mismatched and obviously collected over time.
"Poor Elias," one of them chuckled. "He must have sold the matching set to buy that coat last night."
At last, Baron Elias Crestford entered. He was dressed simply in a white open shirt and black breeches. There was no grand embroidery, no gold buttons or even a coat was added in his attire. In their eyes, he looked more like a stable boy than a noble. His face was composed with a calm smile resting there as if he could notice the look of disdain on their faces.
"Baron Velmore," he greeted. "Gentlemen. I was not aware we had a meeting scheduled."
"You did invite us," Velmore replied with oily cheer. "Last night you offered us to come and find you if we are interested in the deal. Or have you already forgotten your bold offer?"
Elias gave a slow nod, as if indulging a misunderstanding. "Ah, I see. You have come to discuss the terms then?"
"We have come," said the golden-ringed noble, "to see if your purse is real or if you stuffed it with copper coins and lies."
"I must say," added another, "your estate doesn't inspire confidence. Perhaps the 'hidden vault' is buried beneath that broken fountain?"
The crooked-nosed trader laughed loudly. "He should show us the vault now before the rest of the furniture walks off on its own!"
Velmore raised his hand showing the image of polite civility. "Lord Crestford, we do not wish to mock you much. But you did promise double the gold. We are simply here to see if your ambition matches your means."
"I recall my words," Elias said mildly, not minding their crude remarks at all. "But I also recall stating a condition."
He walked toward the chair at the head of the table, resting his hand on it. "I will pay twice the amount, but only if I am granted full rights. You all would get a share according to your investments. No, let's say I will pay you double. But all the managing rights of the site would belong to me."
The room stilled slightly. One of the traders frowned. another looked at Velmore in confusion. They have not expected him to still discuss the details when he was living in such a rundown place.
"Why do you need all the managing rights if you are offering us more profit than our investment would earn? This did not sound simple." asked the one directly.
But Velmore did not care about it.
"For that kind of money," Velmore said in a tone falsely generous, "I suppose he ought to have it. And if he is offering the money in contract, i do not seen any harm in it. But that's my view only." He turned to the others as if their decision was equally important. "What do you say gentlemen?"
They looked at each other and then nodded. One even laughed. "Let him have the title, he can paint it on that crumbling gate of his."
"Fine," said Velmore smoothly. "If you truly have the money, Crestford, you shall have full rights."
Elias gave a slight nod but didn't move. He remained still, pale in the morning light. There were shadows under his eyes, and his hand tightened slightly on the back of the chair.
"What now?" asked the youngest noble with a mocking smile. "Don't tell me the money ran off with your matching teacups."
"Perhaps he meant double last decade's gold price," the golden-ringed one quipped.
"Or maybe," said the crooked-nosed merchant, "he planned to pay us in poetry and dried herbs. His drawing room smells like boiled roots."
Even Velmore joined the laughter this time, though his eyes remained locked on Elias's face. "Well, Baron?" he said after a moment. "Will you make good on your offer or was this entire affair just a pretty lie to protect your pride?"
Elias looked up, his voice steady despite the exhaustion in his eyes.
"I have the money," he said clearly. "Enough to pay what I offered and more." The room quieted for a second. "But I do not trust you." Murmurs stirred at that. Gilmore's eyes narrowed.
"You want a deal?" Elias continued. "Then you will put it in writing. That I will manage the business the way I want and that you will not interfere after the payment is made. You will only come to collect your payments based on the work you have done or the investments you have made at the end of the year."
"And what if we refuse?" one of the traders asked, folding his arms.
"Then the deal ends here," Elias replied. "I won't pay a single coin unless the agreement is formal and sealed."
Velmore's smile cracked at the edges. His plan to humiliate Elias was slipping through his fingers like sand. Still, he chuckled faintly.
"Very well," he said. "Let's write a contract."
But inside, Velmore seethed. Elias Crestford had not only kept his composure he had turned the game again. Yet Velmore would still win. He was sure of it. After all, a man living in such a crumbling shell couldn't possibly have the gold he claimed.
Could he?