Page 10 of Across Space and Time

He felt both men’s eyes on him as he approached, and he forced himself to hunch his shoulders just a little. His ramrod-straight back could give him away as an officer as easily as shined shoes might. “Mr. Galloway?” he asked when both of the men remained silent as he came to a halt. “I apologize for the interruption.”

“Oh, no, I was just leaving,” the gentleman said, putting a gray top hat on his head and giving Mr. Galloway a nod. “Good evening.”

“Good evening, Your Grace,” Mr. Galloway said, giving the man a slight bow, though it was not obvious with his waist being so large. The man with the top hat gave Hugh a small smile, his dark eyes drifting from Hugh’s face, down his body, and back up again, before he strode across the room to leave. Hugh felt like he needed a hot bath and a bar of lye soap.

“Hello, good sir,” Mr. Galloway said, drawing his attention back. He gave Hugh’s hand a shake, covering it with his other hand as he did. “What brings you into my fine establishment?”

“I heard that you serve a variety of tastes,” Hugh said, trying to sound confident, though he was sure he would not be the first young man to sound uncertain about how to ask for what he was looking for here.

“We do indeed, sir,” Mr. Galloway said, his dark eyes studying him carefully, and Hugh felt a bit like a rabbit trapped under the gaze of a hound. “Are you looking for a companion to spend a pleasant evening with?”

“I… Yes,” Hugh said. He wasn’t sure how to ask to talk with the boys to find out if they knew more about Christopher without completely giving himself away. But if he could find Anthony, that would probably be a good starting point.

Mr. Galloway held out one large hand to him. “Angus Galloway.”

Hugh took the hand and shook it lightly. “Hugh.”

Mr. Galloway’s eyes raked over him. “What do you do for a living, Mr. Hugh?”

Hugh swallowed hard, giving a wavery smile. “I’m a bookkeeper, sir, for a pub down on Henry Street,” he said, glad he had decided on that backstory beforehand.

“Are you now?” Mr. Galloway’s hand came up and suddenly grasped Hugh’s chin with his large fingers, tipping his head this way and that to examine it. “You have a fine face, young man. Would you care to change your occupation? I could offer you twice what you make as a bookkeeper.”

“Doing what, sir?” Hugh asked, suddenly not liking where this was going.

Mr. Galloway laughed, a sound that was meant to be light-hearted but sounded to Hugh like the toll of a bell signaling a terrible tragedy. “Why, exactly what you came here to do, I’d wager. My boys are the finest and prettiest in all of London. You would fit right into their ranks.”

Hugh’s stomach curdled. This man who had only just met him was seriously trying to convince him to become one of his whores? “I’m afraid I don’t work well on my knees, sir,” he said, trying to keep his tone light and playful, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded.

“Well, anyone can learn,” Mr. Galloway said. “What do you say, my boy? Perhaps a test run for a night or two? See how much you can make just by lying on your back?”

“Very kind of you, sir,” Hugh said, having to take a deep breath to calm his stomach. “I’ll consider it. But for tonight, I’d rather be a patron.”

Mr. Galloway nodded, his white mustache bobbing. “Very good, very good. My boys are the best in the business, after all. I’m sure if you have questions, they can answer them for you.”

“Do they all work here? Or do you have other locations?” Hugh asked.

“This is our main establishment, but we do private special events for certain individuals.” Mr. Galloway tugged lightly on one end of his mustache. “I do sometimes have lads who come in only for those special events, if you’re looking to be a little more discreet. Pays extremely well.”

“What sort of special events?” Hugh asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

“I’m afraid I can’t say much more than that,” Mr. Galloway said, his eyes twinkling in a way that was meant to be cheery, but Hugh knew the man was watching him like a snake watches an approaching mouse. “But talk to me again if you might be interested. We have one coming up soon.”

Hugh wondered if Anthony knew anything about these ‘special events.’ “I will keep it in mind,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I… think I would like to see one of your boys for myself. I mean, that is why I came here, after all.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Mr. Galloway said. He pointed across the room to a boy who was wearing a corset and bloomers, with a peacock feather tucked in his curly, fair hair. He couldn’t have been older than fifteen. “Rose there would take good care of you.”

“I… like them to be a little closer to my age,” Hugh said, giving Mr. Galloway what he hoped was a sheepish smile. “You know how it is, the ol’ boarding school fantasy.”

“Ah, yes, I see,” Mr. Galloway said.

“Maybe… dark hair?” Hugh asked, trying to sound like he was thinking of someone else. “Very Irish-looking, perhaps?”

Mr. Galloway chuckled. “Ah, schoolboy crush, eh, son?”

Hugh laughed and held up his hands. “Yes. Unrequited, unfortunately.”

“Mm, I have just the one,” Mr. Galloway said. He snapped his fingers at the boy named Rose. “Go get Rachel.” The boy nodded and scurried off through the crowd and up the stairs.

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