Chapter Twenty-Three

T o pass the time before Hazard’s gambling party, Jasper walked. This was what he did when his mind was unsettled, or his body was restless, or he was bored. He found London’s streets endlessly soothing and fascinatingly varied. Of course, as a general rule, he stayed away from the stews. When he was in the mood to be sociable, he walked to places where he was likely to come across friends. Tonight, he avoided those, saving up his sociability for later. Most of the time, he preferred quiet, settled areas where common folk lived crowded together in neat little houses. Sometimes he peered at the pale light of the windows and wondered at the occupants. What did they discuss? What did they do ?

It was too soon to make his appearance at Brooks’s. He had taken Vanessa to Grosvenor Square far too early, intending to show her about the family home. His callowness galled him. His father had treated Vanessa so kindly the other day that he’d mistakenly envisioned a better reception. But this was the Taverston family home. He was wrong to bring his mistress to it. His heart ached to think Vanessa would never be welcome there. Or at Chaumbers.

He wondered if the commoners had similar woes.

At last, as dusk deepened to night, Jasper turned his feet toward St. James Street. He made sure to reach more traveled, safer roads before footpads started to make their rounds. Many of his peers walked with burly footmen at night. Or only went out in carriages. But Jasper liked to walk and to walk alone. He tipped his hat to men he knew who were going elsewhere, and fell in alongside Lord Mountjoy who was also on his way to Brooks’s.

Lord Mountjoy patted his purse. “I won four hundred pounds last week. Shame to see it all go.”

“You plan to lose?” Jasper asked.

“Prinny is coming, is he not? We’ll all lose.”

Jasper laughed. That was true enough. It was considered the height of bad manners to win money from the Prince Regent. They were all expected to graciously lose.

They reached the yellow-brick and Portland Stone clubhouse and entered, handing over their coats, hats, and walking sticks. Hazard came out to greet them, rubbing his hands together.

“New knot?” Jasper asked, examining Hazard’s neckcloth. The folds were intricate. He’d never seen the style before.

“Yes, Philip finally attempted it. Did a fine job, too, if I do say so.” Hazard ran a hand over his temple as though brushing back a stray lock. Jasper wondered if he was nervous. Hazard turned to Lord Mountjoy, “How is Lady Mountjoy’s dandie?”

Lord Mountjoy grimaced. “Damn dog chewed up my best Hessians. All Bess said was I shouldn’t have left them lying around.”

Hazard laughed. “Console yourself at the bar. I need to borrow Lord Taverston for a few minutes. To show him the set-up in the card room. He’s not familiar with Brooks’s, you know.”

“Ha! Damn Tory.” He gave Jasper’s arm a shake and moved on.

“Come,” Hazard said. He gestured about as he led Jasper through the high-ceilinged Great Subscription Room where the gambling was well underway. Gaming tables cobbled the floor and soft-footed servants circulated with drinks and fresh decks of cards. “We have a bit of a crowd already, as you can see.”

This was more than the usual collection of Brooks’s clubmen. Jasper recognized quite a number of faces from White’s and several lesser-knowns from Boodle’s.

Hazard opened a side door, and they entered a smaller room that was also designed for card playing. Several four-to-six-person tables were surrounded by round-backed mahogany chairs. Plush curtains muffled the street noise. Along the back wall, a long table held platters of food, glasses, and a scandalous amount of champagne.

“And we are ostensibly celebrating what?”

“My mother’s birthday.”

Jasper made a face. “Seriously?”

“Why not?”

Shaking his head, Jasper said, “And the bottle I sent over earlier?”

“Here.” Hazard walked to the window and reached behind the hem of the blue velvet curtain, puddling on the floor. He retrieved a bottle of cognac, a very fine tinted-glass bottle that was sealed with wax. “I haven’t sampled it, as you can see. But I am curious. Is it to celebrate afterward?”

“No. Put it back. I don’t want it accidentally served.”

Hazard looked at him questioningly, then returned the bottle behind the curtain.

“A private jest,” Jasper offered. “Aimed at Hilyer. Simply to add insult to injury.”

Hazard shrugged. “I suppose you know what you’re doing. Now here is what is planned so far. Most of the guests will move in here shortly and continue gaming. But a few men will stay in the Subscription Room. I think you should as well. Once Hilyer arrives, the rest of my guests will dribble back here in twos and threes. You should come back quickly after he shows up so nothing will start prematurely. Caro will be among the last.”

“Caro?” Jasper was unacquainted with anyone by that name.

“A new fellow. You’ll find him amusing.” He hesitated, then said, “Crispin brought him around earlier and asked me to keep him for a few days. Entertain him. Crispin is in London you know.”

“Yes, I saw him earlier at home.”

“Oh? Good. He acted offended that I thought you two may have fallen out and said he’d make it a point to talk to you before he sails away.” Hazard shrugged. “At any rate, he thought Caro would be bored at 8 Grosvenor Square.” A smile crept out. “I invited Crispin to this, but he said he had business at Madame LaFontaine’s to take care of.”

“Typical.”

Hazard dropped his voice to a confidential volume. “He looked well. Army life agrees with him, it seems.”

Jasper nodded. Oddly enough, it did. It occurred to him then, rather abruptly, that this “Caro” was likely Crispin’s fallback. It didn’t annoy him—much—that Crispin had so little faith in his elder brother’s abilities. Crispin probably had a backup for the fallback.

“Prinny will be late,” Hazard said. “He always is. But as soon as he does arrive, we’ll direct him back here. Everyone else will follow fairly quickly. Caro will remain in the Subscription Room to keep an eye on Hilyer. I suspect it won’t be long before Hilyer tries to join the party. If he does not try on his own, Caro will goad him into it.”

“What if he tries before the Prince Regent arrives?”

“Then we proceed without Prinny. He isn’t necessary to the scheme. He’s the icing on the cake. There are enough peers here to witness the cut.”

“Fine.” He was less concerned now about the insult than the aftermath. He had to time things well if he was to push Hilyer to run.

“Come,” Hazard said. “I’ll introduce you to Caro.”

They returned to the Great Subscription Room. Hazard gestured to the far corner where a fop sat reading a newspaper. He was dressed splashily in white knee britches and a bright yellow jacket. He had jet-black hair that fell in lush waves, covering half his left eye. Jasper approached warily.

Hazard smiled. “Caro, this is the man of the hour, my friend Lord Taverston.”

Caro rose slowly, setting down his newspaper. He looked Jasper up and down, then licked his upper lip like a cat and said, “Well, hello.”

Jasper tensed and said a wooden, “Hello.”

“Ah, that went well,” Hazard said, then laughed. “Caro hails from Italy. An exile. Not fond of Bonaparte, you see.”

“He’s in good company.”

“I am an artist,” Caro said, glancing at his fingernails before sliding a hooded gaze back to Jasper. His accent was slightly foreign. “I would like to draw you.”

Jasper tried not to frown. “Well, perhaps. I may be due for a portrait—”

“No,” Hazard said. He tapped Caro’s arm and said sternly, “No.” He turned to Jasper. “I’ve seen some of Caro’s art. It should be reserved for select tastes.”

Jasper felt his face redden.

“Join me,” Caro suggested, gesturing to the table holding his newspaper. “I think we have some things to say to one another.”

Jasper looked to Hazard, whose face was blank, then back to Caro. He nodded, then lowered himself into a chair. Caro sat also. Hazard slid away. Caro pulled a sketchbook from underneath the newspaper and began making stray marks.

“I understand there is to be a…a dustup.”

“A small one. Yes.”

Caro smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. “Viscount Haslet says there is to be no duel. He will ensure that.” Caro’s smile disappeared. “If he fails, you are to name me as your second.”

“Oh?” Jasper didn’t know what to make of that. “Why?”

“There will be no duel.”

“May I ask—”

“There will be no duel. Only I will make sure this Hilyer creature will be permanently disgraced, and your name will not be mentioned.”

Jasper swallowed something sour. “You sound like Crispin. I can believe you two are friends.”

“No.” His eyes went black. “Lieutenant Taverston and I are not friends. He is far too…fastidious? Is that the word?” He waved his hand. “But he’s young.”

Young? Jasper supposed he was. Crispin would have recently turned twenty-three. There was a time when they did not think he would survive childhood. He wondered if Crispin felt old.

Caro flipped a page in his sketchbook and showed Jasper a picture.

“Chuckle,” he said.

Jasper did, understanding they were role-playing a more trivial conversation. The drawing was more intriguing than amusing: Hazard’s head and shoulders. A very good likeness. A very handsome one. Though the shoulders were naked and more muscular than Jasper thought they would be in life.

Caro leaned forward. “Tell me what you will do. And how I may assist.”

He was certainly more direct than Crispin. Jasper wondered if this was clumsy or efficient.

“After we cut Hilyer, I will step back out here to console him. Crudely if need be. I’ll offer a conciliatory drink of very good cognac. It will be water. Then I will tell him I’ve made the authorities aware, and he will be arrested in the morning.”

“In the morning. Good. He will think you very stupid.”

“I don’t care what he thinks.”

Caro nodded. He flipped another page to display a grotesque faintly resembling Napoleon.

“These are not my best,” he said with a shrug. “Viscount Haslet would not let me bring my better work.”

“I think you should not have that sketch of the Viscount here either.”

“No?” His eyebrows flickered. Then, with a twist of the wrist, he tore out the front page and extended it to Jasper, evidently amused. “You may keep it safe.”

Appalled, Jasper took the paper, folded it twice, and shoved it into a pocket inside his waistcoat.

“The lady is worth it, the viscount says,” Caro said, leaning back in his chair. “I find that difficult to believe, but unimportant. As far as the viscount knows, it is all about the lady. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Jasper was relieved to know Hazard was no more involved in this than he needed to be. He hoped he hadn’t said too much. He didn’t think he did.

“Perhaps we should play cards. Are you skilled?”

“Not particularly.”

Caro smiled “Good.”

*

Caro wagered conservatively, which was a good thing since he won nearly every hand. If he cheated, Jasper could not see how. The man also pattered about Italy, waxing poetic, and occasionally cursing Bonaparte. It passed the time until Hilyer arrived.

The marquess glanced around the by-now half-empty Subscription Room. He started, visibly, upon seeing Jasper, but acknowledged him with no more than a sneer. If he noticed noise coming from the card room in the back, he ignored it. He took a seat at a table across the room, greeting two fellows who rather grudgingly returned the greeting and allowed him into their game.

Caro said under his breath, “Go. I will join the marquess so that the others can excuse themselves after another hand or two.”

Jasper nodded. He rose and strode to the card room door without looking toward Hilyer. He knocked lightly and was admitted. Hazard came to him at once.

“He’s here?”

“Yes.” Then Jasper remembered the sketch. “Here. Take this.” He pulled it from his waistcoat and gave it to Hazard. Who unfolded it, glanced at it, and laughed.

“A fair likeness.” He stuffed it into his own waistcoat.

“I doubt your shoulders are that broad.”

Hazard sniffed at him. “Have a glass of champagne before you choose a table. Just don’t get too bosky.”

Jasper went to the back and claimed a glass and a small mutton pastie. Then he sat down beside Mountjoy and Sir Penworthy.

“Winning or losing?”

Mountjoy sighed. “At this rate, I won’t have anything left to lose to His Royal Highness.”

“My luck has also been poor. Let’s see whose is worse.”

Penworthy said, “With that to recommend you, I will happily deal you in.”

They gambled desultorily, trading hands. About half an hour later, the two men who had allowed Hilyer to join them wandered in. Jasper could not hear what they said to Hazard, but they appeared amused. Jasper hoped Caro was cleaning Hilyer out.

Another half hour passed before a commotion was heard from the Subscription Room followed by a loud knock. Prinny tumbled in, two footmen in tow.

“Have I missed it?”

“Of course not. We waited for you,” Hazard said, smoothly handing him a glass of champagne which the man quaffed in a gulp.

Then things happened quickly. Hilyer thrust open the door. Hazard stepped around the Prince Regent and blocked Hilyer from entering.

“This is a private party.”

“Private?” Hilyer scoffed. “Half the damn ton is in here.”

“Half? Three-quarters, at least, I would say,” Hazard protested, as Hilyer tried to jostle his way in. “But exclusive nonetheless.”

Jasper rose and went to Hazard’s side. He was significantly taller and broader, and it gave him satisfaction to bar Hilyer as Hazard made room.

“Problem, Haz?” he said, letting his eyes droop and slurring his words.

Hilyer said, “Get out of my way. You don’t even belong here.”

Rather than argue, Jasper looked away from him and said, “Hazard, would you like me to summon the porter? I’m sure you don’t want to sully the evening arguing with this insignificant codger.”

“Go home to your whore,” Hilyer sneered.

Jasper knew how he should have reacted. He knew how he’d planned to react to such expected provocation. Instead, he hauled back and threw a punch into the old man’s jaw. Hilyer reeled. He was caught by Caro, who was just entering. Caro propped him, heavy though he was, with no evident effort.

“Fisticuffs!” Prinny shouted gleefully.

Hilyer said, “You will pay for that.” He spat on Jasper’s chest. Jasper clenched his fists but did not retaliate.

Hazard said, “Well, Hilyer! That is something we’d all like to see.” He smiled at Prinny. “Your Royal Highness, I promised you a match, did I not? Shall we clear a space?”

“I will not engage in—”

“Oh, fie, Hilyer!” The Prince Regent laughed. “Don’t be such an old man. Put up those fists.”

“Indeed not. We will meet like men. Not scuffling dogs.”

“Coward,” muttered Caro, loud enough to be heard.

“No good,” the Prince Regent complained. “Lord Haslet, you promised better.”

“I didn’t know the marquess would be so…reluctant.”

“Hilyer, get out.” Prinny sounded miffed. Worse than miffed. Annoyed. “You were not invited, and you are not welcome. Certainly not in our presence.”

Cut by the Prince Regent himself! Jasper marveled. How in God’s name had Hazard inveigled Prinny’s cooperation to this degree?

Hilyer stared, slack jawed, with a regrettable strawberry blooming on that jaw. Or maybe not so regrettable. Hazard had evidently promised Prinny a fistfight. Hazard must have anticipated that Hilyer would insult Vanessa, as well as Jasper’s violent response. He wished he’d laid him flat. He could permissibly beat the man bloody with the Prince Regent urging him on.

At just the right moment, a very large porter appeared in the doorway.

“Pardon, Lord Haslet. Mr. Albert sent me to see if there was a disturbance.”

“Yes, thank you. Please escort that man out.” He gestured dismissively to Hilyer.

“Don’t touch me!” Hilyer said, shaking off the porter’s hand. “I’ve been a member here since before you were born. I’ll lodge a complaint and you’ll be out on your arse.”

Jasper said quickly, “I suppose he might remain in the Subscription Room where he won’t bother Lord Haslet’s guests.”

Hazard shot him a look. The plan had been to remove Hilyer bodily. He nodded slowly. “I don’t care. So long as he ceases to impose .”

Hilyer tried to gather his shredded dignity and turned, to find Caro in his way.

Loudly, with a thicker accent than he’d used earlier, and with a fine display of drunken ill humor, Caro said, “Good. Give me a chance to even the score. Back to the table, vecchio sporco. ”

The door closed behind them. Jasper hurried to the window and dug out the bottle. He straightened to find himself nearly flush against Hazard.

“Do not challenge him, Jasper. Do not . I don’t care what he called Mrs. Wardrip. It isn’t worth you ending up dead or a murderer.”

“I’m not calling him out.”

“Then what?”

“I’m just going to rub salt in the wound.”

“Jasper—”

“Don’t draw attention, Haz. Let me go.”

Hazard stepped back. He looked angry and worried, but Jasper brushed past. He wove his way to the door and reentered the Great Subscription Room. Hilyer and Caro were alone in the vast gaming hall. Caro was slapping down cards and muttering drunkenly.

Jasper swiped three glasses from the bar and approached. Hilyer looked up and glared.

“I don’t know what you think you and that—”

“Here.” Jasper set a glass in front of him, then one in front of Caro. He pulled up a chair but didn’t sit down. He might as well use his body to intimidate. “I thought I would give you an opportunity to retract your words. I understand your pique. After all, she preferred to sleep on the wet Portuguese ground and be shot at by frogs than be your marchioness.”

“Used goods. You’re welcome to them.”

Jasper refused to take the bait. Instead, he broke the wax seal and uncorked the bottle. He sloshed fluid into all three glasses.

“Go on,” he said. “Drink with me. I think it will be better for all if we put this behind us.”

Caro put a hand on his glass, but rather than lift it, he let his head drop onto his arm, face smashed against the table, and let out a tremendous snore.

Hilyer sneered at him, then picked up the glass and squinted. Jasper had tried soaking a bit of charred wood in the water jug overnight, but it hadn’t imparted much color to the liquid. Hilyer sniffed, then sipped. Then set down the glass with a thud.

“Disappointed?” Jasper asked. “Imagine how our men on the Peninsula felt when they got water instead of grog. Crushing soldiers’ morale is aiding and abetting the enemy.”

Hilyer’s head shot up, startled. Then he narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Don’t you? Let me help. The barrels came from Ireland.”

Hilyer pushed back his chair. “You’re drunk. You’re talking nonsense.”

“I was not drunk when I wrote Bathurst. The letter will be delivered first thing in the morning.”

Another table-shaking snore came from Caro’s lips.

“Nonsense.”

Jasper shrugged. “If you say so. But last I checked, treason was still a hanging offense.”

He set down his glass and walked away.