Page 12 of One Night of Scandal
“Still, you must admit Barrett has a point with regard to rotten boroughs,” Pennington continued, illustrating he was truly one of the most obtuse men in Parliament. Whilehewasn’t from a rotten borough, Sir Humphrey and Caldwell were.
“Let’s not discuss it.” Caldwell’s tone held a bit of an edge.
“You represent Gatton in Surrey, do you not?” Lady Viola asked. “And they have, what, seven voters in total?” She looked to Sir Humphrey. “And you represent Bramber in Sussex, with perhaps twenty voters?”
Sir Humphrey shifted uncomfortably, as he typically did when the subject arose. It clearly bothered him, but not enough to change anything. He was quite happy in his comfortable seat, which was handed to him at every election by the Marquess of Bramber.
Caldwell looked at her intently. “You aren’t writing about such matters, are you?”
Warning bells signaled in Jack’s mind. This was not a safe path of conversation.
“Just informing myself,” Lady Viola said with a tight smile. “I have no opinion on the subject. My job is to deliver information.”
Jack gave her a pointed stare. “Surely the readers of theLadies’ Gazettehave no interest in such things.”
“They do not appear to.”
Jack thought he heard the defeat in her voice. She wanted to write something important that people cared about—or what theyshouldcare about.
“Then perhaps we should turn the conversation to what they do care about,” Sir Humphrey offered with a grin before sipping his brandy. “What do the readers of theLadies’ Gazettewant to know?”
“They like to know what happens inside places like these. I shall report upon the drinks that were imbibed and the amusements that were enjoyed.” She looked at each of them in turn. “What do you do to amuse yourselves?”
Sir Humphrey gave his head a rueful shake. “Billiards. Can’t seem to get enough of it.”
“Then let’s go play,” Lady Viola suggested. She stood and picked up her mug.
Quickly finishing his brandy, his face pinching as he swallowed and set the empty glass on the table, Sir Humphrey rose with his ale. “Let’s.”
“I’ll come along.” Caldwell got to his feet and inclined his head at Jack as he picked up his beer and the brandy. “Barrett.”
“Caldwell,” Jack said, also inclining his head in the way that men did when they acknowledged an opponent.
As the trio set off, Lady Viola slid him a wide-eyed glance and inclined her head slightly toward Pennington. She seemed to be indicating she was giving him the opportunity to get the information they needed without Sir Humphrey and Caldwell about. She was, as he’d already assessed, quite clever.
Jack also noted that she’d left her brandy. Good, he’d make sure Pennington drank it. Over the next half hour, they spoke of horses and racing, their gazes drifting toward perhaps the best whip in the city, Giles Langford, seated on the other side of the salon. When Pennington finished his brandy, Jack suggested he take Tavistock’s.
“He might come back for it,” Pennington argued.
“Then I’ll buy him another. Drink it,” Jack urged with a chuckle.
“He’s an odd fellow, isn’t he?” Pennington mused as he lifted the glass for a sip. “I used to wonder where he was when he wasn’t here. I never saw him anywhere else until the other night at Brooks’s. Had no idea he was a member.”
“I think he’s a member at Boodle’s too,” Jack said vaguely. “I’m sure I’ve seen him there.”
He told the lie easily and would tell her about it. He would also tell her she needed to be careful. If someone as dim-witted as Pennington noticed her behavior, a sharper mind, such as Caldwell’s, would perhaps realize much more. If they took the time to think about it. Hopefully, they wouldn’t.
Jack began to see why she kept her visits infrequent—the old adage “out of sight, out of mind” seemed to fit her situation perfectly. He’d encourage her to adhere to that.
“Ah, I’ll have to keep an eye out. He’s a pleasant fellow, though he never did join me inside Brooks’s the other night.” Pennington frowned. “I thought we were going to have a drink.”
“That was my fault, I’m afraid.” Jack sipped his brandy. “We got to talking and then we left. Went to a gaming hell.” He’d no idea why he added that detail, but reasoned it could only help Lady Viola’s act. “Sh—” Hell, he’d almost said she! “Should have told you, but forgot. He did mention later that he was supposed to talk with you, something about a rumor about an MP.”
Pennington nodded as he took another drink of brandy. “Ghastly rumor. I probably shouldn’t have repeated it.”
Jack swung his head and upper body toward Pennington. “What was it again?”
“Bah, I shouldn’t say. As I said, I probably shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.”
