A Fashionable Indulgence (Society of Gentlemen #1) (22 page)

“I don’t want you, Mr. Gordon. Beg your pardon: Mr.
Vane.
You’re small fry. I’d have liked to see your parents in the dock, and on the gallows. But you? Nothing.” He puffed air, as if blowing away thistledown. “I don’t want you. I want Silas Mason. I want Jack Cade.”

“You want Mason,” Harry repeated.

“You were his apprentice. You must have seen what he did. You could testify.”

“No.”

“He’s Cade, isn’t he? Or he knows who Cade is.” Skelton was watching his face intently. “Tell me where to find Mason’s press, and I won’t touch you. Better the witness box than the dock, eh? Even better…” He peered closer so his nose was almost touching Harry’s. He’d been drinking coffee; it was fragrant on his breath. “Give me enough to bring Cade down and you won’t even have to be a witness. You won’t be named.”

“No.” Harry could hear his own weakness, wished his voice sounded stronger.

“Don’t be hasty, Mr. Vane.” Skelton cocked his head. “Think about it. You could have a very comfortable future ahead of you. Just…” He made a little shooing motion. “Get shot of the past, eh? Mason did you no good. He made you his accomplice, just like your parents did, and I don’t suppose you wanted any of it. You’re a gentleman born, Mr. Vane, I can see that. Well, gentlemen have obligations.”

“Yes,” Harry said. “You’re right. Gentlemen have obligations. Everyone has obligations.”

The door opened, forcefully. Richard strode in, stripping off his gloves as he did so, still wearing his many-caped coat. He looked grim and enormous. Cyprian slipped in behind him, taking the gloves that Richard thrust into his hand without looking. Julius was at his heels, boots clacking on the floor in a way that cried out for the jingle of spurs.

“You seem to have a visitor, Harry,” Richard said.

“Mr. Skelton of the Home Office,” Harry said. “And you’re just in time to hear me tell him no.” His voice sounded a little odd in his own ears. “No, Mr. Skelton, I will not testify against Silas Mason, or lay information against him, or help you entrap him, or anything else. As I am a gentleman, on my word, Silas is not Jack Cade, and nor has he done anything illegal to my knowledge. I will not slander him to preserve my own skin. And if you choose to trump up a case against me because of that, on your conscience be it.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Skelton said.

“I hardly think so,” Richard said. “Mr. Vane gave you his word as a gentleman. That is not something about which he can be
mistaken.
”

“Lord Richard—” Skelton began.

“Silence. I take it this individual offered you an arrangement, Harry.”

“He says he won’t prosecute me for causing a riot when I was twelve if I testify against Silas now.”

“Grotesque,” Richard said, cold and scathing. “I repeat, sir, you have Mr. Vane’s word. If you mount a vindictive prosecution against my cousin because you could not intimidate him into lies, I shall testify in court to your blackmailing tactics. Furthermore, I shall have words for Lord Maltravers on your actions. How
dare
you bring this filth to my family.”

Skelton’s eyes were widening against Richard’s building thunderhead of anger. “Lord R—”

“Don’t presume to address me. You attempt to blacken my name for your own advancement, your political ends, in my house? Get out, and be assured you have not heard the last of this. Have him removed.”

Cyprian darted out. Skelton began a protest that died on his lips against Richard’s intimidating stance, and made no further objection as two of the larger footmen walked in, one with his hat and coat.

The door closed behind them, leaving Richard, Julius, and Harry.

“Very well, Harry.” Richard’s voice was level. “You have chosen to run the risk of prosecution, with the consequent exposure of your past.”

“Yes.”

“Cirencester and Gideon will have to know.”

“I’ll tell them.”

Richard took a deep breath. “And can you assure Dominic, as you just told Skelton, on your word as a gentleman, that this man Mason is not involved in law-breaking and sedition?”

Harry licked his lips. “No. No, that wasn’t true.”

Silence. Choking, painful silence.

“I said,
as I am a gentleman.
Well, then, I am not a gentleman. I’m sorry to lose your good opinion, Richard.” Harry didn’t look at Julius, didn’t want to see contempt on his face. He felt utterly desolate. “I didn’t want to do that. But Silas took a flogging to let my family escape England after the riot, and I don’t suppose he much wanted to do that either. The fact is, if I am forced to choose where I stand…you’ve all been kinder to me than I deserve. But Silas needs me now. You don’t.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Julius said, and put a hand to his arm as Harry swung round. “Richard, I share your view that this man Mason could be usefully consigned to the darkest reaches of perdition, but if you expected Harry to leave any stone unturned to help him, you do not appreciate your cousin. Give it two moments’ thought.”

“He did not have to lie,” Richard said flatly.

“Oh, rubbish,” Julius said. “Marcus and I lied through our teeth to protect each other, and I feel not the slightest remorse. I should rather be a loyal liar than an honest traitor.”

“You are quibbling.”

“And you are too absolute. Come, Richard, you must see his position was impossible.”

“And remains so,” Richard said. “Believe me, no one else will understand your sacrifice either, Harry. Especially Cirencester.”

“You presumably don’t intend to tell him everything,” Julius suggested, with a hint of warning.

“Of course not,” Richard said. “I intend to summon Dominic, find out what the devil is going on at the Home Office, and force Lord Maltravers to call his dog to heel. I’ll send a note to Cirencester. You, Harry, may go and speak to your grandfather. Good God, when will this business end?”

“I shall walk with you,” Julius told Harry. “Send to us at my rooms, Richard. Good luck.”

Talking to Gideon was appalling. Harry stared past him, watching a spot on the opposite wall, as the old man raged.

“I wish I’d left you to rot,” he panted at last. “I should have left you to rot in the gutter rather than dragging your carcass into the light. Bringing ignominy on my name.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“The lot of you. Useless! Worthless!” Gideon’s face worked. “Alexander marrying that whore. Paul and his damned reading, curse him. That disobedient strumpet Verona—”

“Sir!” Harry protested.

“Scheming to throw herself away on some country clod. And what decent man will have her now with her fiancé standing in the dock for riot and sedition?” Gideon’s knuckles were white. “You’ll ruin her along with yourself.”

Harry gravely doubted that, with her fortune, but this was no time to argue, still less to point out that any talk of the abortive engagement was Gideon’s fault. The old man already looked as though he might collapse.

“I’ll bring her to heel,” Gideon muttered. “She’ll bend to my will or be sorry. And
you
—”

“Sir,” Harry managed. It was as much as he could do not to back away from the look on his grandfather’s face. “I’m sorry to have brought trouble on you. Sir Absalom believes that he can have me acquitted of any serious charge, if one is even brought, which Richard is trying to prevent—”

“And then what?” Gideon rasped. “I pay your way, put fancy clothes on your back, while you defy me? You and Verona, making a fool of me? While Lady Bitch Cirencester tells me how to spend my coin and orders me to keep you like a prince? While you bring shame on me? Well, I may have to, but I don’t want you.” His expression was terrible. “You are useless to me. Worse than useless. Get out.”

Julius looked at his face as he came, shaking, out of the door, and said, simply, “Home. Let us take a chair.”

“I’d rather walk,” Harry managed.

It wasn’t far, just a few streets. The evening was dark and cold, though, since it was nearly six of the clock—this had been one of the worst and longest days of Harry’s life, he thought—and by the time they were in Julius’s rooms he was shivering.

Julius read a note that was waiting for him and tossed it into the fire. “We’re to meet the others at Quex’s but we have a little time. Come here.” He claimed the fireside chair and pulled Harry, sprawling, onto his lap. “How are you, my dear democrat?”

“Terrible. Oh, God, Gideon hates me.” He gave a brief account of what had passed, as much as he could bear. “The worst thing is…I felt so sorry for him.”

Julius gave him a rather odd smile. “Yes. I expect you did.”

“He’s lost his sons, he made a terrible mistake with me—”

“Indeed he did. If he had fulfilled his obligations to you in the first place, none of this would have happened.”

“I suppose not.” Harry rested his head on Julius’s shoulder. “Still, though, it feels wrong that Cirencester is forcing him to support me.”

“Well, who knows when Cirencester will lose patience with you,” Julius pointed out. “For all the nobility, he is every bit as ruthless as Richard.”

“Richard isn’t ruthless!”

“No, he doesn’t think so either. In any case, it is likely that Lord Gideon’s support will be withdrawn eventually. We should consider what you will do then.”

“Well, I’ll have nothing,” Harry said. “I was wondering if someone in the family, Richard or Cirencester, might establish me in some sort of profession. Something they’d find acceptable, I suppose.”

“Be damned to your family.” Julius tugged at his hair to bring his face up. “I have means enough, Harry. No need to dance to the Vane tune.”

Harry took a moment to understand that, then sat up abruptly. “If you’re proposing that I should live on your purse—”

“A man may support his lover, may he not? Come to that, so may a woman. Look at Lady Beaufort and young Farquhar.”

“It’s not that. I’ve made such a mess of matters and to embroil you any further— You know I love you. I don’t want to entangle you.”

“The problem is, you already have.” Julius’s fingers twined with his hair. “You have entangled me so thoroughly that I doubt I shall ever be satisfied with solitude again. I am well aware that you are storm-tossed, my dear. I merely wish that you will permit me to give you a port when you need it.” He kissed Harry, gently. “And I have rarely seen a more precious sight than you lying like a mountebank to save your friend.”

“What?”

“Utterly shameless.” Julius kissed him again. “Quite magnificent. I was proud to stand with you. And talking of stands…” He moved his mouth to Harry’s ear. “Next time you lie to agents of the Crown, I insist you let me watch.”

“Julius!” Harry spluttered, as teeth nipped his earlobe. “God, am I corrupting you?”

“Hideously.” Julius pulled back. “We must make ready. Dominic and Richard will be there soon and we have a deal of work to do. But consider my words, dear boy.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “That you should keep me.”

“Suppose we start by keeping you out of Newgate,” Julius said. “Let’s worry about the rest later.”

They arrived at Quex’s as Richard was striding up the street toward them. Shakespeare admitted them with a murmured greeting and a serious expression. Harry had no doubt he knew all about his travails.

They went straight to the private rooms. A man was already seated in the chair by the fire, his boots up on a footstool. He looked round as they came in.

“Oh no,” said Harry.

“Dom.” Richard shoved past him, forgetting courtesy. “My God. What happened?”

“Do I take it Mason darkened your daylights?” Julius added.

Dominic had a nasty black eye coming, with pronounced bruising on his cheek. He put a hand to it, and winced. “Yes. Understandably.”

“Understandably?”
Richard repeated. “Are you mad?”

“What’s going on?” Harry demanded. “Is Silas all right?”

“For God’s sake!” Richard’s shout rang off the walls. “What is
wrong
with you both?”

“I don’t know about you, dear Richard, but I feel an urge to meet this Silas fellow,” Julius remarked. “He evidently exerts a singular charm.”

“You wouldn’t like him,” Harry and Dominic said together.

“That, at least, I believe. Good God, Dominic.” Richard glanced at his best friend and away, with a look of sheer distaste. “I cannot understand you.”

“No.” Dominic sounded utterly weary. “You never could.”

“I should like to know what we need fear,” Julius said into the silence. “Have you heard about Skelton’s visit to Harry?”

“He tried to make me testify against Silas,” Harry said. “He offered to drop the prosecution for riot if I’d inform. I told him no.”

Dominic gave him a faint smile, a small, forced movement. “Something had upset him this afternoon. Clearly it was you. Skelton has become determined to pin Silas down.”

“I don’t give a damn for this Silas,” Julius said. “Will Skelton retaliate against
Harry
?”

“He prefers not to make empty threats,” Dominic said. “And he may feel that Harry’s resolve will crumble if a prosecution is actually mounted. I think we must assume he will call the bluff.”

“Then how do we proceed?”

“I shall have Absalom speak to Skelton’s pet magistrate. It’s possible that he can be persuaded against hearing the case. Can anyone lean on Maltravers to call Skelton off?”

“He won’t listen to any of us,” Richard said.

“Cirencester?”

“He won’t do it. Beneath his dignity to ask. And he is not pleased with Harry.”

“To the devil with Cirencester, saving your presence, Richard. We require a woman’s touch,” Julius said. “Laura Martindale’s engagement to Maltravers was announced a fortnight ago. I shall speak to her mother.”

“Verona is a good friend of Laura,” Harry put in. “She might be able to appeal to her.”

“Will Maltravers listen to his fiancée, though?”

“He might. We’ll find out. Let’s organize the ladies, and Harry, please make sure Ash doesn’t attempt to intercede with his brother and spoil everything,” Julius said. “Well then, we have a course of action. Anything else?”

“Yes,” Dominic said. “Silas is loyal to you, Harry, but his assistant Charkin may not be as firm. It is possible Skelton will seek a new weak spot in his pursuit of Silas. You might consider if he would be able to incriminate you as well, and that is something I should prefer you to discuss out of my hearing.”