“Or Maltravers even,” said Lord Richard. “Might this have been an attempt to blacken Harry’s name, Dominic?”
“I don’t know yet. I have to go back. There is a great deal to be done and people to whom I must speak about this. Where is Harry?”
“Some prizefight at the other end of London with Freddy and Higham,” Norreys said. “Cyprian arrived to get him out of the way at an ungodly hour. I do hope you pay that man what he’s worth, Richard.”
“I couldn’t afford to,” Lord Richard said. “Talking of employment…”
They were all looking at Silas then. He blinked.
“Continue the, uh, the situation as arranged for now.” Dominic sounded stifled. “We’ll discuss it. Could you, perhaps, go down to Arrandene for a while, or at least be out of London? Thank you. Thank you all.” He turned on his heel.
“What— Wait.” Silas blurted it out, unable to restrain himself. “Dom?”
“Don’t,” Dominic said harshly. “I can’t—I can’t do this and my duty. Excuse me.” He hurried out, not looking around.
Silas stared at the door. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. He couldn’t think at all.
Lord Richard rang the bell, and they waited in silence, a rogue and a pack of gentlemen who lied like rogues, until Cyprian appeared, read Lord Richard’s wordless gesture, and escorted Silas through to the servants’ quarters and upstairs.
He found himself in a neat little attic room before he’d begun to understand what was going on.
“Here you are,” Cyprian said. “Should be comfortable enough. Hungry? Well, you will be soon. I’ll send something up. Then get some sleep; I imagine we’ll be heading for Arrandene tomorrow. Welcome to Lord Richard’s service. The rules of the house are respect and discretion—”
“Wait. Stop.” Silas waved a hand. “This was all a lie you made up, remember? And it worked, very nice, so why don’t we just say I resign?”
“Because that would give the impression that you are not a reformed character,” Cyprian said crisply. “It might raise questions, and we don’t want questions. You, my friend, work for Lord Richard like a respectable man, and you will do so for as long as is necessary to maintain the fiction, understand? As I was saying: You treat all fellow staff with decency, and you do not speak a word of Lord Richard’s business, no matter how trivial. Infringing either of those rules is a matter for instant dismissal. Otherwise, you will find the pay and the conditions excellent. This is the most sought-after house in London for service.”
“I’m not in bloody service!”
Cyprian cocked his head. “Tell me something, Mr. Mason. I hear you believe you’re as good a man as any lord?”
“Aye,” Silas said. “And so is any man, or woman, birth be damned.”
“Well, two lords just lied through their teeth to save you from the hangman and Mr. Frey and Mr. Harry from disgrace. If you’re as good a man as Lord Gabriel, let alone Lord Richard, you’ll play your part as they did. Don’t spoil all that’s been done today for the sake of pride.” Silas gritted his teeth. Cyprian sat on the bed, uninvited. “If I may say so, you don’t seem very cheerful for a man who isn’t going to be hanged, drawn, and quartered.”
Silas sat as well. He wanted to put his head in his hands or to hit someone. He wanted Dominic.
He wasn’t going to have him.
Dominic had always said, I won’t protect you against the consequences of what you have done. That had been the fragile foundation on which they’d built the bridge between them, that they would neither of them give up their principles for the other. But Dominic’s principles lay in ruins now, and it was Silas’s fault.
The disgust and anger in Dominic’s voice: I can’t do this and my duty.
“I don’t think much of your plans.” Silas heard the rasp in his own voice. “Your several steps ahead? The path’s not going that way, friend.”
“Well, perhaps not. One can’t control everything. Still, I’d put money on my opinion before yours.”
Silas had to laugh at that, a rough huff of breath. “What kind of valet are you, anyway?”
Cyprian gave him that vulpine grin. “I am myself alone.”
He had to work for a moment to place the line. Richard of Gloucester, of course, Shakespeare’s scheming hunchback who aimed to be king. His plans hadn’t worked out in the end either.
“Were I you, I’d get some sleep,” Cyprian said. He patted Silas’s arm. “And be patient, friend. This is a long game, and patience is a virtue. You can trust me on that.”