Page 77 of Restored

“How is she now?” Henry asked.

“Much happier,” Jeremy said. “She’ll soon be tucked up in bed with a book, and Mary will make sure she eats something later.” He sighed and sank down into a chair. “Did you ever wish you could just have the baby for Caroline?”

Henry nodded, but prudently said no more. There was no need to burden Jeremy with stories of what it was like to hear the screams of one's wife as she laboured through childbirth, and being entirely powerless to help her. That was something he would learn soon enough.

“Henry,” Jeremy said, and Henry looked up at the change in his tone.

“Yes?”

“I heard something today that I think you should probably know about.” His gaze was unhappy.

Henry’s gaze narrowed. “What’s that?”

“It’s about Freddy. Well, more this friend of his, really, but I gather Freddy will be there too.”

“Where?”

“At Sharp’s in Knightsbridge,” Jeremy said, meeting Henry’s gaze. “I know you’ve been worried about Freddy’s gaming, and this Bartlett fellow plays very deep, you know. He’s playing Lionel Skelton again tonight.”

“Skelton?” Henry exclaimed.

Jeremy nodded unhappily.

“I warned Freddy to stay away from him,” Henry said. “And for that matter, I warned Skelton to stay away from Freddy.”

Jeremy watched him, carefully. “Skelton may not know Freddy will be there. It’s Bartlett he's due to play.”

“But he knows Freddy’s part of Bartlett’s circle,” Henry said. He pushed his chair back and stood. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Are you going to Sharp’s?” Jeremy asked. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“I’m going, yes, but there’s no need for you to come. You concentrate on looking after Marianne. I can take care of this. Skelton’s nothing more than a wastrel and a bully.”

And, Henry thought, if he got the chance to deliver some punishment to the man for his old sins against Kit, he would not be holding back.

19

Kit

Kit dressed carefully for his confrontation with Bartlett at Sharp’s that evening. No colourful waistcoats tonight, and no jewellery, only soberly elegant black and white. He wanted to look entirely, irreproachably respectable.

When he arrived at the club, he was taken to Mr. Tait’s office. The man greeted him pleasantly enough, but he was rather less friendly than the last time Kit had met him.

“Jake told me of the favour you asked of him,” Tait said. “I must say, I’m not happy about it, but this is Jake’s establishment, not mine.”

“Do I take it Mr. Sharp is not here?” Kit asked.

“He’ll be along shortly,” Tait said. “He rarely comes by before ten though. Still, he was clear that if you arrived before he did, you were to be allowed onto the floor and left to conduct your business with Bartlett.”

Kit nodded. “I’m grateful. I do understand your concerns, Mr. Tait, but this is something I require a particular sort of audience for. I do not envisage it will disrupt the evening overmuch.”

Tait made ahrrmphingsort of noise which indicated his disbelief. And fair enough, given Kit was hoping his accusations against Bartlett would attract considerable attention.

“He’s at a table in card room two. The staff will direct you if you ask.”

Kit rose from his chair. “My thanks, Mr. Tait. I hope to be out of your hair very shortly.”

Tait just shook his head and turned his attention back to the papers on his desk.