The Prince of Spies (Hope and Glory #3) - Elizabeth Camden Page 0,3

was Jedidiah Magruder, the patriarch of the Magruder clan, who drove the price higher and higher. Luke’s father couldn’t compete, and the Magruders bought The Sparrow for a fraction of its worth. The Magruders didn’t even export their goods, so they had no need for a merchant ship. They simply bought it to rub his father’s nose in the fact that they could. If there was any doubt about the Magruders’ motives, that was put to rest when Jedidiah stripped the ship of its valuables, then burned it in the harbor. “We had a great Confederate bonfire!” he had bragged to the press.

That incident elevated the bitter family feud into one of seething hatred, and it grew worse over the years. The Magruders weren’t above bribing journalists to throw mud at the Delacroixs, and they’d used Dickie Shuster in the past.

“Dickie can be flipped, and I intend to flip him,” Luke said.

It wouldn’t be easy, but Luke had plenty of connections in this city. He was also smarter than the Magruders. He didn’t mind cozying up to Dickie Shuster in order to get an upper hand in the local press. Now that his health was on the mend, it was time to resume his life as a journalist, and that meant moving into his new office.

Freezing air shocked his system the moment he stepped outside again. He ignored it and climbed into the carriage, Gray following. If all went well, they could still get him settled into his new office by the end of the day. He tried to beat back his shivers as the carriage set off toward downtown Washington.

“Have the Magruders made any progress stealing revenue from our spice business?” Luke asked, desperate to get his mind off the chill seeping into his core again.

The corners of Gray’s mouth turned down. “They’re trying. Their bottled spices went nowhere, but they’re stealing a ton of my business in vanilla extract.”

The Delacroix family had built their fortune on expensive spices and seasonings, while the Magruders became even richer by selling canned foods. The families had always been rivals, but now the gloves were off and the stakes were higher. Clyde Magruder, the leader of the family, had been elected to Congress and would surely try to wield that power to grind the Delacroixs into the dirt.

“The Magruders are using chemicals to imitate vanilla,” Gray continued. “It’s a concoction cooked up in a laboratory, made of wood-tar creosote and chemical flavorings. It costs pennies to produce by the vat, so I’ll never be able to compete on price. Yes, they’re hurting our business.”

And Delacroix Global Spice was a very lucrative business. They imported the finest spices from around the world and were the most prestigious brand on the market. The Delacroix name was synonymous with quality and prestige, but the Magruders were the opposite. They made their fortune mass producing consumer staples like canned beans and potted ham. They adulterated their products with fillers and preservatives, but they kept their prices low. Now they were encroaching into the spice business, and it was a threat.

Luke pulled the edges of his coat tighter as he stared out at the gloomy January cityscape. He wore his warmest winter coat, thick gloves, and a wool scarf, but the chill was still getting to him. Even the air in his lungs felt cold, and he began shivering again.

“Luke, this isn’t a good idea,” Gray said.

If they could just get to the new office building, he wouldn’t be so cold. It had a coal-fired heater, and he’d be able to warm up eventually.

“I’ll be okay,” he said, wishing his teeth did not chatter as he spoke. “And I really hate the Magruders. Or Congressman Magruder, I now must say. Can you believe it? I heard he’s renting the fanciest town house on Franklin Square. Now that I’m back in Washington, I’ll make sure his chances for reelection evaporate.”

Gray leaned forward and opened the panel behind the driver’s bench. “Please turn the carriage around,” he instructed the driver. “We’re heading home.” He settled back into his bench, concern darkening his face. “Don’t let impatience lead you into doing something foolish. You’ll be out of the action for weeks if you come down with a case of pneumonia.”

Luke sighed. Gray was probably right, but this was about so much more than the enmity between two families or the price of spices. This was about the niggling, insatiable need to take Clyde Magruder down a peg. The man didn’t