Page 12 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
As he rounded the corner to St. James’s Street, he glanced down its length, uncomfortably aware that he was now in his old haunt. Hopefully, no one would spot him here, for he was not in the mood to be snubbed. The massive house came into view, and he studied its stone facade which stretched five windows across. The entrance was just four steps above ground level, tucked underneath a portico. There were two floors above the ground floor and another shorter floor on top for the servants’ quarters. Although the curtains were open, the interior was not easily visible from the street, except for the faint outline of a large bowl of flowers sitting on a table in front of the window.
He walked up the steps and rapped the door knocker, which was in the shape of a crow’s head with its metal beak performing the knocking sound. The door cracked open, and a servant peered out at John.
“Yes, sir?”
“I have an appointment to see Lord Blackstone. My name is John Aubin.” When the servant made no move to open the door wider, an event he found strange since he had been invited, John reached into the coat of his pocket. “Here is my card.”
The servant took it and opened the door wider, peering at a small black book he held in his hand and comparing it to the name on the card.
“Ah, yes. You may wait here. I will bring this to milord.”
John obeyed, and as the servant stepped to the side to permit him entrance, he was given a full glimpse of the dimly lit hall. All of the wall hangings and rugs were a deep burgundy red. On the right side of the corridor was a set of stairs leading up to another sober-hued hallway. But it was the left wall, where exotic game of all types were mounted like trophies that transfixed his gaze. The only natural light came from the windows above the door behind him, and the rest was from candles placed in sconces on both sides of the corridor and the chandeliers above him. The heavy colors and multitude of glassy eyeballs staring at him stole his breath.
It did not take long before the servant returned. “Lord Blackstone will see you. Right this way, sir.”
John followed the servant through the passage that led to another corridor. The door at the end of it contained Lord Blackstone’s study, and he entered on the heels of the servant as Lord Blackstone stood from behind his desk. John had not expected such a courtesy, both because of his recent loss of status and also because he was meeting a peer.
His good manners fled in the face of such odd trappings in the viscount’s study, and he only remembered to bow as an afterthought. Above Lord Blackstone’s head was a large painting of a beaver donning a morning coat. On his left side a single candle flickered on a table whose legs appeared to be those of a flamingo.
Is this man obsessed with death?John thought.And then—What does that mean for me?
“Well met, Mr. Aubin. Please have a seat.” Lord Blackstone led him to another part of the office where two leather chairs were placed in front of the fireplace.
John found this corner more settling, away from the staring eyes of the animal trophies. He turned his face to the right and drew back suddenly, for in close proximity were the jaws of a snarling tiger.
Lord Blackstone watched his reaction calmly, not seeming to find any morbid satisfaction in frightening his guests.
“He has just arrived last week. My contacts bring predeceased animals to the taxidermist. Their demise was not done at my hand or theirs.”
“Is that so?” John did not feel himself equipped to say more than that.
“I feel it gives them a new life, wouldn’t you say?” Lord Blackstone offered a friendly smile. He looked nothing like a peer. At least not one who wished to boast of his status. Whiskers grew on either side of his cheeks, extending a hairline which fell in soft waves. His eyes looked youthful and his smile was cheery, as though he had never known hardship. There was no doubt he was an eccentric.
“I suppose it does,” John conceded, realizing that he had better start returning answers if he was not to appear rude. He had not yet uttered a single intelligent word.
“Bring us some brandy,” Lord Blackstone ordered the servant. “Or perhaps you would rather have tea? I believe you have been abstaining as of late.”
“You seem to know quite a few things,” John replied cautiously.
“I know everything.” Lord Blackstone threw up his hands, along with the corner of his lips. “I suppose you wonder why Ihave called you here, other than what Sacks has already told you.”
“It does seem a strange thing that you would wish to seek an acquaintance with me; however, I am honored by your notice.” There. Nothing could be lacking in his address now.
“Well, you were not an easy man to find, which is why I turned the job over to Sacks. I was intrigued after learning that you found out Lord Goodwin’s attempt to ditch his shares in the steam-powered looms after having convinced his peers to invest. It was noble of you to seek out Lord Perkins and try to call Goodwin out on such base behavior.”
“Acting nobly—if that was what it was—has certainly not done me any favors,” John admitted.
“Nobility is never wasted,” Lord Blackstone said.
That sentiment sat for a moment before another thought occurred to John. “How do you know of the venture? And why is it that you believe me?”
“I have contacts who keep me up to date on political maneuverings. It didn’t take much to guess that the threat of a steam-duty tax would be enough to frighten Lord Goodwin off of the investment. Now, of course, with the tax law voted out and the boom in trade, he is considered a genius. He’s calling for more investors to build a mill and housing for workers up north, and many are joining the deal.” Lord Blackstone smiled benevolently at him. “But of course, his success does not invalidate your good actions.”
“Well, I appreciate your notice and your validation, but I am afraid it will not do me any good now. I am seeking to recover my reputation after it was unfairly destroyed.”
“I know this, Mr. Aubin. If you have taken a position at the foundling asylum, I assume it is to look into the early rumors of mismanagement and see if you can connect them to Lord Goodwin.”
John pulled back in surprise. It had not occurred to himthat anyone would figure out what he was doing there. “You seem to be well versed in many things,” he managed at last, shaken.
