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Chapter Nine

Sebastian

“ Y ou managed to persuade Tolliver to take Pip?” Yorke asked with patent admiration in his eyes as he and Sebastian sat in the morning room at the townhouse in St. James’s. Fairchild had gone to visit his uncle in Kent for a few days.

“It was not something I had planned.” Sebastian stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles. “I had no idea he would be there, you recall. But he could not bear to see Mrs. Lawrence rely upon me for anything when he felt so certain he could do it better.”

Yorke’s head fell back with laughter.

“I would pay good money to see Tolliver attempting to train Pip,” Yorke said. “And even more to see him covered in marmoset droppings, for that is far more likely than him managing to train the little hellion.”

“Not a hellion, surely,” Sebastian said. “We managed to civilize him quite well, I thought.”

Yorke looked around at the tranquil scene. “It is a bit boring here without the fiend, isn’t it?”

Sebastian’s lip lifted at the edge. Life was markedly less chaotic without the monkey, but a small part of him missed the creature. A very small part .

“What did Mrs. Lawrence make of Pip’s transformation?” Yorke asked, letting his head fall back on the chair and closing his eyes.

Sebastian reflected on the visit for a moment before responding. “You know, I believe she and Miss Grant were quite impressed.”

“You had better hope so, or else you let Tolliver make off with your ticket to her fortune.”

Sebastian frowned slightly at this coarse way of putting things.

The truth was, he had not been thinking of her fortune for the past few days.

He enjoyed himself enough in her company that he was not obliged to keep her money at the forefront of his mind in order to wish to spend time with her.

At times, she had a guarded feel about her.

But without fail, there were moments when their eyes met in silent laughter.

Sebastian found himself wanting more and more of such interactions, for they were intoxicating.

He glanced up and found Yorke watching him. “What?”

Yorke smiled. “You dislike that thought, don’t you? Tolliver winning her fortune.”

Sebastian considered his boots for a moment before answering. “I certainly have no wish to lose it. Tolliver’s attempts to woo her do not keep me awake at night, however. He seems an old fool.”

“Mrs. Lawrence may have an affinity for old fools,” Yorke said. “She married one before, after all.”

Sebastian’s mind went to the diamond ring and the way she was always fiddling with it. Was she still in love with him? Perhaps the times when he had thought he had seen a guarded look about her were due to the lingering loyalty she felt to her late husband.

“Forgive me,” Sebastian said with incredulity, “but are you implying that Mrs. Lawrence might prefer someone like Tolliver to me? I have a mind to call you out.”

“As long as you intend to shoot me with a twin-barreled musketoon, I shan’t attempt to stop you,” Yorke said. “But, for what it is worth, I merely meant that if you are set upon Mrs. Lawrence, you may need to exert yourself a bit more.”

“I am set upon her,” Sebastian said, as much to himself as to anyone else.

Barring the sudden discovery of Mrs. Lawrence possessing hitherto masked and unbearable qualities, he could not imagine finding anyone else who suited his needs and wishes as well.

If he had not been obliged to make wealth his primary aim in marriage, she was precisely the type of woman he would have taken pleasure in courting.

Yorke continued to watch him, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Have you become enamored of your target?”

“Enamored,” Sebastian repeated with amusement. “I admire her, certainly. Who would not?”

There was a knock on the door, which opened, revealing a servant holding a letter. “This arrived with the post for you, Mr. Drake.” He brought it over, bowed, then left.

Sebastian’s heart skittered at the sight of the handwriting on the front. It was uneven and unpracticed, the writing of a boy. It was not even sealed with a wafer but appeared to have been stuck shut with some sort of flour paste.

With a knot in his stomach, he unfolded the letter and consumed its short, barely legible contents.

Sibastian,

I hope this leter finds you well. I must be quik befor Hollis returns.

He does not know I am righting this and would punish me if he discoverd it.

I wishd to ask one thing: when will you pay us a call?

Hollis leaves us each evning to go to the freehous.

You could come then. I hate it here and miss you tarribly.

Pleas come soon.

Felix

Sebastian’s heart twisted, his throat growing thick with emotion. He had been plying a mischievous marmoset with sweets while Felix was living under the thumb of Hollis.

Apart from the content of the letter, the writing itself made Sebastian sick. The penmanship and spelling should have been better for a boy of Felix’s age, evidence that Hollis was neglecting their education.

“Unwelcome news?” Yorke asked.

Sebastian cleared his throat and folded the letter. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Why he felt it necessary to keep the problems of his siblings private from even Yorke, he did not know. Perhaps he wanted to spare Margaret, Hugo, and Felix the embarrassment they might feel later on if people were aware of the struggles and deprivations they had experienced.

That was assuming, of course, that he could bring an end to such deprivations.

Pleas come soon .

The words repeated again and again in his mind.

It was not a convenient time to make the sixty-mile journey to see them, given the developing situation with Mrs. Lawrence.

Hollis would certainly not appreciate it if he found out.

But how could Sebastian say no? How could he deprive Felix of something that would bring joy to his otherwise bleak life?

The bell to the front door rang, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Are we expecting anyone?” Yorke asked with a frown.

Sebastian shook his head.

They listened as muffled voices sounded, followed by footsteps, a knock, and the door opening to reveal the same servant.

“You have a visitor, Mr. Drake,” he said, resignation etched into the tired lines of his face. “Shall I show Mr. Tolliver in, sir?”

Sebastian blinked. “I suppose you had better.”

He nodded and disappeared.

“Tolliver!” Yorke exclaimed softly. “If this is the company you are beginning to keep, you may need to find new lodgings, Drake.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I will give you privacy.”

But the little screeches that made their way through the open door made both of them freeze.

Those were sounds they knew all too well.

They were the sounds of Pip, who scampered through the door, Mr. Tolliver on his heels.

“Come back here,” Tolliver grunted, reaching futilely for the monkey.

Pip took quick stock of the room and ran to Sebastian, leaping to his shoulder as though it was a church and he had come to claim sanctuary.

“Mr. Tolliver,” Sebastian said. “To what do we owe this…unexpected pleasure?”

Tolliver straightened, his cheeks red from apparent exertion. “I apologize for calling upon you in this way, Drake, but I am afraid I must leave Pip with you for a time.”

Sebastian’s brows rose. Based on the way Pip’s nails gripped him, no amount of effort on Tolliver’s part could convince Pip to leave his shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Yes. Very unfortunate business, for I have made a great deal of progress with him already, but I have been called away on urgent business.”

Sebastian’s gaze flicked to Yorke, who was smiling with unabashed amusement.

“Nothing too serious, I hope?” Yorke asked, not even bothering to appear concerned.

“There is simply no telling,” Tolliver said gravely. “It is a regrettable thing, for I was intent on having the monkey trained for Mrs. Lawrence within the week, but I fear you will have to do your best in my absence.”

“Perhaps the training could wait?” Yorke offered.

Tolliver’s eyes widened slightly. “That will not be possible, for…there is no certainty that I will return to Town in a timely manner. ”

“I quite understand,” Sebastian said, masking his amusement as well as he could as Pip fiddled with his ear. “Mrs. Lawrence will have to settle for my unsatisfactory efforts—and company.”

Tolliver showed the first sign of hesitation, but another glance at Pip seemed to steel him to the unsavory prospect of leaving both Pip and Mrs. Lawrence in Sebastian’s care. “She may rest at ease that I will return as soon as possible and call upon her.”

Mrs. Lawrence might have been dissatisfied with Sebastian’s training of Pip, but Pip himself was more than happy to be back in his company.

So happy, in fact, that he took to bringing Sebastian little trinkets and odds and ends, seemingly to show his appreciation for him.

These gifts took various forms—a half-eaten apple stolen from the kitchen, a watch chain from Yorke’s bedchamber, and a dead beetle, which he offered to Sebastian like it was the last bonbon on earth.

The respite from Pip had rejuvenated Sebastian so that he viewed such well-intended mischief with more amusement than exasperation—and a growing fondness, if he was being honest with himself. He was beginning to understand how Mr. Lawrence had kept Pip as a pet.

Tolliver had returned a Pip bursting with unexpended energy, and after an evening of chaos, Sebastian resigned himself to taking him to the Park twice the following day.

Unlike in the mornings, the Park was busy in the afternoon, but as the alternative was a mess at the townhouse, Sebastian set out to the Park near three o’clock.