Have Faith

Chapter 1

"Money is a great servant but a bad master." Francis Bacon

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Chapter One

London, England

1805

"It has been an absolute pleasure, gentlemen," boasted Cassian as he collected his winnings from his weekly card game.

Henry Weatherby groaned as he tossed a number of bank notes onto the table. "You always have the best luck, Kensington."

Cassian chuckled as he collected the money. "I suppose I have just developed a good intuition for people. I can call a bluff."

"Intuition, my arse," swore Geoffrey Hounslow. "Just bloody lucky," he muttered as he too paid what he owed.

"Well, gentleman, my wife expected me home hours ago so I had best be off to face the music," murmured Percy Townsend.

"Townsend, how about you stop fretting about getting in trouble like you are a little schoolgirl and stay for a whiskey. Have a little fun," teased Cassian. Cassian snapped his fingers to summon the servant that was attending their table at the club. The servant appeared instantly and Cassian ordered a bottle of their most expensive ale.

Townsend frowned and looked down at Cassian. "This is gambling, Kensington, not fun. While my wife might be demanding, I still would rather please her than you." Townsend paid what he owed and left them.

"Can you believe him?" Cassian asked Weatherby and Hounslow.

Weatherby laughed. "You will understand when you marry, Kensington."

"Yes, you are still a baby in comparison to us," added Hounslow.

"Marry? I have no time to marry," rebuffed Cassian.

"No, but plenty of time to fool around while flashing your dashing smile at every giggling young girl you come across." Weatherby raised a disapproving brow. "Perhaps a wife would do you some good. But alas, I must follow Townsend. My wife awaits me, as well."

"Goodnight, Kensington," said Hounslow, "until next week."

Just as his friends had left, the servant returned with the bottle of whiskey. Not wanting the ale to go to waste, he poured himself a generous glass.

Cassian did not know whether Townsend, Weatherby, and Hounslow were really his friends. They were rich men. Cassian was a rich man. Were not rich men supposed to associate with each other, gamble, and complain about their women? Cassian did not have a woman, but he had plenty of money to gamble with.

Cassian was one of the richest men in London. In just under three years, he had made himself a fortune that meant he was the envy of every man in the city, and the desire of every woman.

Cassian had been fortunate in a speculation that had benefitted him nearly a thousand pounds. With that money he had purchased his first factory. Cassian had made his fortune in industry, and was always looking to acquire struggling factories.

He owned seven factories in London, and a dozen more in the north of England. He was responsible for nearly fifteen hundred souls in his factories, which was not a responsibility he took lightly.

Cassian worked hard. He had made something of himself. So when he was not working, he liked to enjoy himself. He indulged on fine clothes, ales, and women. He lived in a luxurious London townhouse and he was quite content.

Cassian finished his whiskey and left the bottle on the table, as well as payment for the servant's services that evening. Perhaps the servants could enjoy the fine ale together. Cassian was suddenly not in the mood to overindulge.