Benedict's Challenge - Carole Mortimer Page 0,1
of his haughty nose at the older man. “I do not believe we are acquainted well enough for you to address me with such familiarity, Lord Gordon. To you, I am, and always shall be, Lord Winter or Doctor Winter.” He placed his black bag down on the side table and began to take out the instruments needed for the examination. “Nor can I look at the bruises on your torso and arms when you remain fully clothed,” he added pointedly.
“No need to get on your high horse, old chap,” Lord Gordon blustered as he sat up to remove his coat and waistcoat. The removal of his shirt revealed the soft and excess flesh beneath. “I was only being friendly.”
“I am very particular as to whom I take into the small circle I call friends,” Benedict informed the older man loftily. “Be assured you are not one of those people,” he announced without apology.
Lord Gordon’s face became even more florid as his temper rose. “Arrogant bastard, ain’t ya, just because you’re acquainted with Prinny and your closest friends are two earls and a duke.”
“I do not believe you know Prinny well enough to address him with such familiarity either. Nor, I assure you, does my arrogance have anything to do with my choice of friends,” Benedict scorned. “I merely know myself to be of superior breeding and education compared to you.” He showed little or no emotion as he listened to Lord Gordon’s heart before inspecting the man’s bruises.
Lord Gordon harrumphed before returning to his original subject. “Is Blackborne any closer— Is the Duke of Blackborne any closer,” he corrected at Benedict’s reproving scowl, “to finding the men who did this?”
As of last night, Benedict knew Gabriel had not yet succeeded in apprehending the attackers.
And Benedict had forgotten, after seeing that angel peering at him from abovestairs, that helping to discover who had hired the thugs who had carried out the beatings outside Club Venus was one of his reasons for calling upon Lord Gordon today.
There had been three such attacks to date. Lord Evesham. Lord Gordon, and a young gentleman named Jimmy Brown. The latter was currently resting in one of the beds in the infirmary Benedict kept at the back of his London home, Jimmy having been severely beaten some time during the night.
This attack on Jimmy had given Gabriel reason to believe that either Lord Evesham or Lord Gordon was responsible. While in the presence of those two gentlemen, Gabriel’s soon-to-be-wife had inadvertently revealed that Jimmy, who hailed from one of the London slums, was sure to know the names of the thugs who had been paid to carry out the attacks. Mere hours after she had made this statement, Jimmy had sustained a beating of his own.
Gabriel was talking to Lord Evesham this morning, and Benedict had agreed to question Lord Gordon in the hope they might find the culprit.
Benedict moved to stand behind the older man and placed the listening tube, invented by René Laennec in France just a few years earlier, so that he might listen to the beat of Lord Gordon’s heart as he questioned him. “What do you know about these attacks?”
The heartbeat remained steady. “Nothing at all until I was attacked myself.”
“So you don’t have an axe to grind against the Duke of Blackborne?”
The heartbeat remained the same, although the older man looked puzzled by the question. “Why would I when the man runs the best establishment in town?”
Benedict’s top lip curled back at the use of the word “establishment” for what was, after all, a brothel. Admittedly, none of the ladies at Club Venus were there under protest or duress. All also voluntarily agreed to a medical examination by Benedict to ascertain their health and their response to physical stimulus. Gabriel was adamant that this be a necessary requirement of all the ladies who worked at his club.
As a consequence, Gabriel did run the best establishment in town, as well as the healthiest for all concerned.
Many might find the intimacy of Benedict’s examinations of those ladies to be offensive, but he had no wife or other significant lady in his life to whom he need apologize. He doubted he ever would.
He continued to press his ear to the tube he held against Lord Gordon’s pale and flabby back as he questioned him. “You have no idea who could have carried out these attacks?”
“None.”
“You did not recognize any of your attackers?”
“No.”
“They made no other comment except the one you overheard regarding