Page 25 of The Rake and Lady Julia
Their talk then moved to the matter at hand.
"I need some information," Rob said, as he took a coin purse from his pocket and placed it on the table.
"If there is one thing I have plenty of, it's that," Gem replied, as he pocketed the coin, "Tell me, who's it you're after now? A crooked count? A smuggling spinster? A villainous viscount?"
"No," Robert replied, "Though I commend you on your alliteration. I simply seek to know the comings and goings of a Lord Pariseau."
"Pariseau?" Gem raised his eyebrows, "Him wot's spending all his money on building a new Foundling Hospital?"
"Er," Rob flushed, "Yes."
"Is he a dastardly bast—ahem, I mean, is he no good? I mean, I know every wrong 'un from John o' Groats to Land's End, and that Pariseau chap never struck me as a beef bull," Gem pressed, evidently curious.
Rob paused to think before he answered. Tempted as he was to cast Lord Pariseau as a villain, he could not malign the man's character for his own benefit. Again, tempting, though it was.
"He hasn't done anything wrong, exactly," Rob was delicate, "Or anything wrong at all, if I'm honest. It just that he is—"
Gem frowned as he watched Rob flounder as he tried to explain himself.
"He is attempting to woo the lady I have set my cap at, and his attempts are going rather well," Robert finished, flatly.
Gem was silent—a rare event, which Robert might have appreciated, had he not been so forlorn. The wiry thief blinked several times, his brow furrowed in thought, before he spoke.
"I ain't here to run around after you," Gem grumbled.
"Oh, I know that."
"And I don't owe you no favours."
In fact, he owed Rob several, but Rob nodded in agreement.
"But, look," Gem sighed, "You been good to me what with all that trouble with the magistrate, and then the accusations of smuggling, and the time Four Finger Fred disappeared and Bow Street thought it was me. So yeah, go on, I'll help you catch your Jade."
"She is not a Jade," Rob closed his eyes, "She is a rum mort, I can assure you."
"Oh?" Gem raised an eyebrow.
"A prime article," Rob continued wistfully, "A diamond of the first water, a—"
"Enough," Gem interrupted, "I said I'd help you, no t that I'd listen to you spouting nonsense. If I wanted to listen to poetry, I'd head down Pontack's and have Byron read me a verse for the price of a pint of ale. Now, you leave all the spying to me. I've a scullery-maid in every grand house in town, I'll soon have your information for you, Lord Lovelorn."
It was something of an improvement on Lord Snootyboots, Rob had to admit, as he thanked old Gem profusely. The two men parted ways shortly after, with a promise from Gem that he would send word once he had any news.
Robert was cheerful as he returned to where he had tethered his horse, under the watchful eye of a young street-Arab, whom he had promised a pretty penny for his service.
"My thanks," Rob called, handing the boy his payment.
The young lad snatched the coin eagerly from him, stuffing it into the pocket of his breeches. Alas, the garments he wore were so worn, that Rob rather questioned the wisdom of his actions.
"Keep a better hold of that," he warned, "Lest it falls out of a hole in your pocket."
"I've a second pocket, sir, if you would like to give me coin for that," the boy responded, quickly, "That way, if my coin falls out of the first, I'll still have the coin in the second, and you won't have to fret over me going without."
"How generous you are to consider my nerves," Rob was dry, but he duly rewarded the lad another coin for his efforts.
"The heavens will smile upon your holy act, sir," the boy said in thanks, as he pocketed the second coin.
"What's this?" Rob raised an eyebrow, "Are you quoting Shakespeare at me, boy?"
