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Chapter Seven

Sebastian

M rs. Lawrence took a seat in the chair across from Sebastian as the housekeeper set down the tray, then handed the animal onto the arm of her mistress’s chair as though it was part of every family’s teatime routine.

“Do you require anything else, ma’am?” asked the housekeeper.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Beecham,” Mrs. Lawrence said with a smile.

Sebastian stared with his mouth slightly agape as the housekeeper left them with the tea. And the animal.

“Ah!” said Mrs. Lawrence, apparently taking note of his surprise. “You must be wondering about Pip.”

That was certainly a gentle way to put it.

She offered a piece of cheese to the creature, then poured two cups of tea while he munched. “He belonged to George and has become used to taking tea with me each day.”

“Has he?”

She nodded and shot an affectionate glance at Pip.

“And what… is Pip?”

She gave a little laugh and handed Sebastian his tea. “He is a marmoset—a type of monkey.”

As though he had heard his name, in one fluid motion, Pip leaped over the table that held the tea tray and landed on Sebastian’s chair.

Sebastian reared back, nearly spilling the hot tea in his lap.

The creature faced him, staring at him with curiosity. Once his surprise abated, Sebastian reciprocated, noting the large, attentive eyes and the fur that fanned out from both sides of the monkey’s head. “He reminds me of my uncle.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Lawrence said, a tremor of amusement in her voice. “And do you like your uncle?”

“I did,” Sebastian said. “He had the longest, whitest whiskers I have ever seen. There was no taming them.”

Mrs. Lawrence smiled, then set down her tea. “Here. Give him one of these.” She lifted the lid of a small pot and took out a little bonbon. “He will take to you immediately.”

Sebastian was uncertain he wished for such a result, but he was not about to admit it, so he took the sweet from her hands.

Pip must have had a special sense for the bonbon, for he stared at it with rapt attention as it was transferred, then tried to wrest it from Sebastian’s grip.

Sebastian laughed and relented as Mrs. Lawrence looked on with an appreciative smile.

Content with his loot, Pip settled on Sebastian’s lap.

Sebastian watched with amusement as the monkey worked at the bonbon determinedly. “He must keep teatime interesting.”

“He certainly does that.”

Pip finished the bonbon and looked at him expectantly.

Sebastian put up his hands to show they were empty.

Pip apparently understood, for he began peering into every pocket he could find on Sebastian’s coat.

“There is nothing to find there, my friend,” Sebastian said with amusement. “I suspect you would easily find them even if I had hid them, though.”

“By all means, make the attempt,” Mrs. Lawrence said, gesturing at the small pot that contained the sweets .

Sebastian took Pip and set him on the arm of the chair, gave him one bonbon to suck on, then took advantage of his occupation to hide others in different places around the room: behind the tulip vase, on top of the case clock, and beneath a candlestick.

He had barely hidden the third when the monkey finished and looked around. Spotting Sebastian, he galloped over.

Within three minutes, he had found all of Sebastian’s hiding places and was in possession of three bonbons.

“Intelligent thing, isn’t he?” Sebastian said.

“Very. And since arriving in London, he has been even more energetic than usual. I admit to feeling overwhelmed, for he has been a bit unruly.”

Sebastian glanced at her as she watched Pip with an expression of mixed appreciation and something he could only describe as fatigue.

“George was the one who cared for him,” she explained, “so I find myself out of my depth at times, and never more so than recently. He has made the process of sorting through George’s belongings far more difficult.”

“Perhaps you could give the task of sorting through the poetry to him.”

Mrs. Lawrence laughed, and the sound was a new sort of pleasure to Sebastian. “He would undoubtedly enjoy it more than I, though the mess he would inevitably leave would put me in the black books of all my servants. We are all at our wits’ end as is.”

An idea occurred to Sebastian. He had told her he wished to be of help, had he not? And he needed a way to ensure their continued acquaintance. “Perhaps I could take Pip for a time.”

Mrs. Lawrence’s gaze shot to his, her brows drawing together. “You cannot mean that, surely.”

“Surely I can,” he said with a broad smile.

There was a pause as she stared at him. “Why would you make such a generous offer?”

With one bonbon between his teeth and the others clutched in a hand, Pip darted over to Sebastian using only three legs .

Sebastian welcomed him onto his lap again. “My friends and I could use a bit of excitement, and I can only imagine the delight this fellow would bring to our dull St. James’s townhouse. We even have an empty bedchamber he could use. What do you say, Pip? Would you like to come join the bachelors?”

So long as Pip had bonbons, Sebastian doubted he cared where he was.

Pip was climbing down the railing of the staircase at the townhouse when Yorke and Fairchild returned from their club. Happily for Sebastian, they were every bit as amused by the monkey as Sebastian had been.

“How did you fare?” Yorke asked, pouring three drinks in the drawing room.

“What?” Sebastian asked distractedly as he tried to keep Pip’s claws from tearing his coat. The monkey was persuaded every nook and cranny of his clothing contained sweets.

“With the hunting equipment,” Yorke said impatiently.

“Very well,” Sebastian said, taking a seat on the chaise longue as Pip climbed across his outstretched arm and around his neck. “I forgot most of what you taught me, but she was nevertheless impressed. Confidence was the key, just as you said.”

Yorke came and offered one of the drinks to Fairchild, who was lounging in the sole wingback chair in the room. As it was his uncle’s house, the nicest chair was considered his.

Yorke brought a drink over to Sebastian, but as Pip tried to snatch it, he thought better of this.

“The last thing we need is Pip drunk,” Sebastian said grimly.

Yorke laughed and sat down on the chair across from Sebastian, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles, two drinks in hand. “You mean I might have spared myself the trouble of all those drawings and all the vocabulary I spent three entire hours teaching you? ”

“Afraid so,” Sebastian replied. “It all went clean out of my head the moment I found myself facing a dozen firearms. But I managed well enough using horse terminology for any gaps in my vocabulary.”

“Horse terminology?” Yorke repeated blankly.

“What sort of terminology?” Fairchild asked, for he was a bit horse-mad.

Sebastian shrugged and fished in the one pocket Pip had not found and pulled out a small bit of cheese.

“I think I mentioned something about the bridle at one point. I most definitely referred to the girth at least once.” He frowned in an effort to recall his time with Mrs. Lawrence.

“I am nearly certain I called one piece too long in the mouth.”

Yorke covered his face with a hand while Fairchild laughed heartily.

Sebastian grinned. “You mustn’t be angry with me, Yorke. I nearly died more than once.” He frowned. “The firearms all would have been unloaded, would they not?”

“Of course,” Yorke said, hardly concealing a scoff.

Sebastian let out a relieved breath. “Mrs. Lawrence pointed a double-barreled what’s-it at me at one point.”

“Pointed it at you?” Fairchild asked incredulously.

“A double-barreled what’s-it?” Yorke repeated. “Please tell me you did not say that to her.”

“I am not a fool, Yorke.” Sebastian paused. “At least, not that much of one. I cannot be certain, but I believe I referred to it as twin-barreled musketoon.”

Yorke shut his eyes.

Fairchild grimaced, then nodded at Pip. “And how do you come to have this fellow?”

Sebastian explained the situation, then left Pip with them so he could fetch the jar of bonbons Mrs. Lawrence had sent over. Sebastian had been obliged to go to great lengths to hide it from the monkey.

He gave a bonbon to Yorke and one to Fairchild. “Conceal these wherever you wish. He will find them almost as quickly as you hide them.”

“I accept your challenge,” Yorke said, intrigued. “And I wish you the best of luck, little man!” He chucked the monkey under the chin. “You will certainly need it.”

Pip grasped his hand, trying to wrest the bonbon from him, and Sebastian was obliged to distract the monkey so that the game could begin.

Pip won handily, but not before he had relieved himself on the rug in the entry hall.

That was something Sebastian had not considered: the monkey’s bodily necessities.

The mess was cleaned by the servants, but Sebastian quickly found that the monkey’s physiological needs were nearly all he could consider, whether it was food—or the cleaning up of that food—or Pip relieving himself—or the cleaning up of Pip having relieved himself.

The monkey might look like Sebastian’s uncle, but Uncle James had been far better behaved.

As for Yorke and Fairchild, their amusement and awe at the monkey’s intelligence lasted less than twenty-four hours. Pocket watches and brushes went missing, and the kitchen was raided during the night.

“I will pay for it,” Sebastian promised when they found the monkey’s bedchamber in utter disorder in the morning, the curtains ripped from climbing, the drawers open and turned out.

How Sebastian would manage to pay for it, he had no notion.

He was not particularly plump in the pocket, and the money he did have needed to be spent wisely.

Mrs. Lawrence sent over a note on the second day, asking how Pip was getting on.

Yorke took a paper out of the nearest desk and snatched the quill. “I will happily let her know what we think of her husband’s dear Pip!”

Sebastian stole the quill from his hand .