Chapter Nineteen

Percy set down his wineglass with a clack .

“If you don’t stop sulking and tell me what’s going on, I’m going to scream,” he announced, matter-of-factly.

“Nothing is going on,” Henry muttered. “I’m fine.”

“Lies, lies, and more lies. Come on, man. It’s to do with that girl, isn’t it?”

Henry jolted. “I… no, of course not. Girl? What girl?”

Percy rolled his eyes. “Can’t a man demand a little honesty from an old friend?”

Henry sighed, shoulders sagging.

“I suppose you mean Eleanor Fairfax.”

“Of course I do. You’re smitten by the girl.”

Henry opened his mouth to issue a rounded denial, but this time, the words didn’t seem to want to come.

Maybe there was a reason for that.

He groaned, slumping back in his chair.

“Fine. Fine . Perhaps I am a smidgen – a smidgen , I tell you – smitten.”

“I knew it!” Percy announced triumphantly.

Barrett’s was uncomfortably busy that night. It was full of people, red-faced men laughing toothily and playing billiards, drinking too much brandy and spilling it everywhere so that there were sticky patches wherever you put your hand.

Of course, such behaviour would not have been tolerated at White’s, but this was not White’s, and that counted for a great deal.

Percy was already pleasantly flushed with brandy, and leaned forward with a grin, patting Henry’s knee.

“I’m glad for you, you know. You deserve a little happiness.”

“Why are you congratulating me? Miss Fairfax does not like me.”

“I think you can earn her favour.”

“Then I think you don’t know Miss Fairfax very well. She’s far too clever and stubborn to be swayed by anything like that.”

“There you are, you see! You do admire her. ”

“I never said that I didn’t admire her. It would be impossible not to admire a lady in business, especially one of her quality.”

“Fine, fine. But let’s discuss the more interesting matters. Do you intend to court her?”

Henry swallowed hard.

Wasn’t that a question?

“I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Then let us decide, without delay.”

“ Us ? My dear Percy, this is my matter, not yours.”

“Hmph. If you say so. If you like the girl, why not tell her?”

“It’s not so simple. I’m in business with her.”

“With her father.”

“And also with her. She has a stake in that business too.”

“Well, good for her. Do you mean to say things would get awkward if she said no?”

Henry bit his lip. “Well, yes. That’s exactly what I mean. I have to be professional. What if she thinks I’m after the whole business?”

“Well, prove to her that you’re not. Earn her respect. That’s something you can certainly do, Henry. Go slowly, don’t go barging in. See how she feels about you. Do you have any inkling what she feels for you, by the way?”

“I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“Ah,” Percy sat back in his chair, considering. “Well, that’s a pickle, and no mistake. I’d better think on that for a moment. Oh, my brandy is finished. Do you want another?”

He made a few vain attempts to signal the footman, but the poor man was rushed off his feet and didn’t look their way. Sighing, Percy got to his feet.

“I’d better go and order at the bar. I’ll be right back. I’ll fetch two.”

Not waiting for a reply, Percy went swaggering off across the room, whistling as he went.

Henry sat back in his own seat, feeling tension twinge at the bridge of his nose.

Percy’s on top form today.

He was right, though, wasn’t he? Henry would never make any progress at all with Eleanor unless he tried to win her good opinion. And even then, what did he think was going to happen? Were they going to spend months or even years dancing around each other at the Fairfax offices, until Henry’s chance at earning his inheritance was gone, and Eleanor was an old maid without any real inclination towards marrying?

Groaning, Henry buried his face in his hands. He was vaguely aware of movement, of fabric crumbling as somebody sat opposite. He didn’t hear the click of glasses being placed on the table and wondered whether Percy had given up on pushing through the crowd to get to the bar. He removed his hands to say as much and sucked in a breath of surprise.

It wasn’t Percy. It was Mr Richard Grenville.

“You,” he spluttered impolitely.

“I,” Mr Richard responded, grinning like a cat sighting a sleeping mouse. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Not particularly. We are both members of this club.”

“Indeed, indeed. I heard that your business arrangement with the Fairfaxes was finalized, eh? A bad business, I’m afraid, a bad business.”

Henry bristled. “Why is it a bad business?”

“Ahh, sounds like you haven’t done your research, my man, as I told you! Not to worry, though, I’ll set you straight.”

“Oh, good,” Henry said sourly.

“Now, my group and I are prepared to make you a remarkable offer. We’ll help you extricate yourself from the redoubtable Fairfaxes – no easy feat, but I can manage it – and you can enter into business with us. Let me assure you, it’ll be nice to have a man at the helm, ha-ha!”

Henry didn’t smile. “And why would I do that, Mr Grenville?”

“What, aside from…”

“Yes, yes, aside from having a man – you, I assume – at the helm . What are you implying?”

Richard heaved a tired sigh, leaning close confidentially. At a glance, a stranger would think they were two old friends, enjoying a chat.

For some reason, that made Henry angrier than ever.

“Miss Fairfax is a strange little bird, to be sure,” Richard mused, tapping his chin with one tobacco-stained finger. “She always has been. Her older sister wasn’t as pretty as she, opinion had it, but she was more sensible – secured herself a decent little doctor as a husband, popped out a few children. She’s safe, now. But Miss Fairfax has some odd ideas, you know. Wants to run the family business, can you credit it? And her father, for some odd reason or another, allows it. Hilarious, really. I can’t imagine my father allowing my sisters any say in our financial doings, and rightly so, eh?”

“What a charming man he must have been,” Henry remarked, infusing plenty of frost into his voice.

Either Richard was too drunk to notice, or too stupid, or perhaps just too overconfident, because he kept going, speaking expansively with lots of gestures.

“If the girl was a mite less odd, some merchant or farmer would no doubt come along to take her off the old man’s hands, I’m sure. Her sister’s husband, that doctor, is far too soft in my opinion. He ought to have knocked some sense into her, since her father isn’t willing to do it.”

There was a brief silence. Well, as silent as anything could be in a busy, bustling club such as Barrett’s.

“When you say, knock some sense into her …?” Henry enquired; his voice sharp as a knife.

Richard still did not get it. He only shrugged his shoulders, grimacing.

“Well, you know what I mean.”

“I’m sure I don’t.”

“Us gentlemen have to manage our womenfolk, ha-ha. My mother was kept in line by my father, and so on up and down the line it goes. Fairly straightforward, when you get down to it.”

“Indeed.”

Henry’s hands were clenched tight into fists by his side. He concentrated on breathing deeply and not smashing Lord Richard’s face down into the table.

That would almost certainly get his membership revoked. He’d have to go back to White’s, or else ask William to intercede for him. Again. That would be too humiliating for words.

“So, what do you say, then?” Lord Richard asked, a wide smile on his stupid face. “Are you going to abandon the mad old man and his trollop daughter, and join a decently manned sailing ship? ”

Henry was on his feet before he knew what was going on. Richard stayed seated, staring up at him in bewilderment.

Around them, the room quietened.

“Get up,” Henry snapped.

“I…”

When the man didn’t immediately move, Henry fisted his hand in Richard’s ruffled shirt front, hauling him bodily to his feet. Lord Richard gave a squeak of alarm, and grabbed at Henry’s wrist, trying to pry himself loose.

It was almost comical to see the real fear on his face when he could not do that.

“Listen to me, you nasty little man,” Henry hissed, teeth clenched. “If you think I’ll stand here and listen to you speak about Miss Fairfax that way, you are mistaken. If you don’t take that back this moment, you’ll answer for it.”

In a flash, Percy was at Henry’s side.

“I only left you for a moment!” Percy hissed. “What are you doing?”

“Managing some business, Percy. Did you get those brandies?”

“Let him go!”

“He called Miss Fairfax a trollop.”

Percy winced. “Oh. That was a mistake, I fancy. You, then… what’s your name? I can’t recall. Doesn’t matter. You, take it back. Immediately.”

Lord Richard bared his teeth, looking very much as if he wanted to stick to his guns.

At the end of it, though, Henry’s estimation of him was correct.

He was a coward.

“I take it back,” Richard snapped. “She’s not a… what I said. It was unfitting of a gentleman.”

“Yes, it was,” Henry snarled. He shoved Richard hard, making him topple over the seat he’d been settled on, arms pinwheeling in vain to catch his balance.

The footman whose attention Percy had tried so hard to catch was certainly alert now. He was at their side in a flash, smiling nervously.

“Is everything alright, gentlemen? ”

“Quite, thank you,” Henry responded, never taking his eyes off Lord Richard. “Mr. Richard Grenville here was just leaving.”

“Oh, I see,” the footman said, visibly deflating with relief.

Lord Richard glowered balefully at everyone and anyone, but of course especially Henry. He tugged his waistcoat back into place and tried his best to smooth down his disarranged hair.

“You’ll pay for this, Willenshire,” he snapped.

“I’m quaking in my Hessians,” Henry responded, sitting back down again. “Go away.”

“Needless to say, our offer – our very lucrative offer, you fool – is off the table.”

Henry inspected his nails. “What a pity. And you’d better not call me a fool, in case I get angry again.”

It was gratifying to see Richard pale at that. He began to back away, angrily tugging at his waistcoat.

“Oh, I’m glad you’ll be involved with them still when it all happens,” he murmured, half under his breath. The regular noise level hadn’t yet returned to the club, however, so Henry was able to hear. “Oh, yes, I am glad. You’ll be laughing on the other side of your face. Try and find your way out of that one.”

Before Henry could demand an explanation, Lord Richard turned on his heels and banged his way out of the club, letting the door slam heavily behind him.

Henry watched him go, brow furrowed.

“Hmph,” he muttered to himself. “What an odd thing to say. Did you hear that, Percy? His parting shot?”

“Hear what?”

“Ah, never mind. It was odd, though. What does he mean by it? I dread to think.”