A Gentleman’s Position(55)

The talk died at last, and silence descended “I wonder when he’ll be back,” Harry said into it. “Julius, I mean.”

Richard ran both hands through his hair. “Tomorrow. They would have had to set off at dawn to return to London tonight. We cannot expect that.” He had told himself that a dozen times in the past hour.

“I hope they are back tomorrow,” Ash said. “And I hope Cyprian is with them, and I hope to God he has some ideas. Richard, should I flee the country?”

Everyone turned. Ash held his hands up. “Everyone’s being terribly kind, but the fact is, this to-do is my fault, and it’s up to me to take the consequences. If I run, it’s admitting guilt, I know, but you could all be shocked and appalled.” He offered the room a watery smile. “And I’d rather bring disgrace on my family from France than in the pillory.”

“Would that not mean Francis would have to run as well?” Richard asked.

“It may come to that,” Francis said. “The accursed thing is, if we run, we proclaim our guilt, but every day we don’t, I feel a growing conviction that I shall find a Bow Street Runner breathing down my neck.”

Dominic sat up. “Have you been followed? Men hanging around, servants questioned?” Ash and Francis glanced at each other and shook their heads. Dominic frowned. “That’s odd. I would have thought—”

“Listen!” Harry yelped.

Rapid footsteps on the stairs. It was one man, not a crowd, and Richard had just time to register Not an arrest before the door opened and Harry leapt up with a cry.

“Gentlemen.” It was Julius, still wearing his hat and greatcoat. He swept them a bow. “Admire my celerity.”

Richard found he was on his feet as well. “Did you get him? Where is he? Did he come?”

“I see the situation has not improved in my absence,” Julius said. “Yes, I have him. He has requested a private interview with you first, Richard.”

Richard nodded. “Send him up. Leave me, gentlemen. We will speak tomorrow when, please God, Cyprian may have some better ideas than the rest of us.”

“I really don’t feel like waiting on his convenience,” Francis said through his teeth. “The man’s a valet. Can you not soothe his damned amour propre with a new set of livery and get on now?”

“No,” Richard said. “It was not his idea or mine to write that letter, and we may all be grateful if he chooses to help us avert the consequences, so you will kindly do as I ask at once.”

Dominic was already standing. “Of course, dear fellow, carry on. Be quiet, Francis.” He steered Francis out as Harry followed pushing Ash. Julius stepped aside to let them out, gave Richard a quizzical look, and closed the door.

The minute they had left, Richard wished they had not. He had not wanted to be alone all day, except that he had not enjoyed anyone’s company either.

“Damn it,” he said aloud, and fished out Philip’s note. He probably needed some moral disapproval now.

It was in Eustacia’s hand. Philip always had her write for him, since even Richard struggled to decipher his efforts.

Dear Richard,

In your conversation today, Philip omitted to observe that some things are of necessity private but may still be conducted honestly. He asks me now to assure you of his faith in your conduct, both in public and in private, and of his continuing regard, whatever course you think best to pursue.

Ever yours,

Eustacia





Underneath that, Philip had scrawled three words in his childlike hand:

I stand corrected.

Richard was still staring at that when David came in.

He looked travel weary, pale, and tired after what must have been a full day in the coach at uncomfortable speed. He wore a brown coat that went better with his hair than the severe black Richard had seen him wear before and his manner was decidedly wary.

Richard put the precious note into his pocket. “David. Thank you for coming.”

“I had no choice.”

Richard couldn’t stifle a leap of hope. “Because…?”

“Silas and Mr. Norreys strong-armed me into the coach.”

“Oh. I meant them to request your attendance. To persuade you, not press-gang you. David, I need your help. Will you sit?”

“I’ve been sitting all day.” David walked to the fire, a few feet away from Richard. “What do you want of me, your lordship?”

“Your help. We are in hell’s own tangle, and I have no idea what to do. I hoped you might.”

“You want me to work for you again.” David’s voice was neutral, his face blank, nothing given away. Guarded. Richard did not want to see him guarded.