A Masquerade in the Moonlight - By Kasey Michaels Page 0,115
off with his ladies, and I saw it break against his shin. Oh, we’ll dine out on this story for a month, gentlemen—perhaps more!”
With the crowd thinning, Thomas was able to move closer just in time to see Brummell look inquiringly at Sir Peregrine and say, “You know what I think, dear fellow? I think you have gotten yourself an enemy. But I will commend you, albeit belatedly, on your choice of rig-out. The color matches the dirt on your knees—and that figurative mud on your face—quite to perfection. Good day to you, Totton, or should I say, good-bye? I believe His Royal Highness would appreciate your absence from the metropolis for some space of time. A decade of Totton-free London wouldn’t come amiss. Oh, yes—and you will be receiving a bill for the posies, rest assured of that.”
Sir Peregrine was left alone, even the laborers deserting him, their spades and picks littering the ground, but he continued to stand there, allowing the rain to soak through his new coat and the buckram padding in his shoulders, his expressions ranging from disbelief to despair to what looked very much like fear.
“Pitiful, ain’t he? Always knew he’d bring himself low one day. I’d enjoy it more if I weren’t in disgrace m’self.”
Thomas turned to see Lord Chorley standing in the rain that was threatening to become a downpour, a large black umbrella held over his head by a man who looked too rough to be a personal servant.
“Introduce you to my friend here, Mr. Donovan?” Lord Chorley offered, pointing back over his shoulder with his thumb. “His name is Wattle, and he’s my dun—or one of them, anyway. He came to stay yesterday and won’t leave. I think he believes I have money somewhere and he’s following me about until I lead him to it. I bent to pick up a penny piece I saw in the street as I was coming in, but he beat me to it, didn’t you, Wattle? Had to walk, for they took my phaeton last night—the curricle, too—and the horses. Stripped my stable to the walls, like jackals on the hunt. Came here to see Prinny, but he wouldn’t talk to me. I don’t owe the half of what he does, but I think he’s afraid of the taint.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, my lord. I had no idea you might be somewhat under the hatches,” Thomas said, discreetly stepping on Dooley’s toes as that man began to chuckle.
“Under the hatches,” his lordship repeated dolefully, then added, “up the River Tick sans boat or oar, left without a feather to fly with, pockets to let, scalded, burnt, down at the heels and out at the cuffs.”
Lord Chorley took a deep breath, then sighed. “Yesterday I thought it would be the end of me, but it ain’t. I’m going to have to leave London, of course—once I can shake Wattle here—but I don’t feel so bad now, for Perry’s going to have to go, too, and he won’t be able to show his face for a dozen dog years, while I’ll be back once you and Ralph straighten things out between you. You will still be able to do that, won’t you, with Perry gone? Did you ever see such a sorry mess as Perry? I saw Ralph earlier, leaving. Wouldn’t go near him right now, Donovan, he’s that angry. I would have been able to whisper a word in the prince’s ear, placing someone we could trust in Perry’s place, but you can put paid to any thoughts of that now, can’t you? Matter of fact, it’s the only thing I can put paid to—ain’t that right, Wattle?” he called over his shoulder. “Here now, hold that brolly over my head! Deuced lot of good it’s doing keeping you dry! If I were to take a chill and die, you’d be left with no chance of bleeding me of the rest of my money. Well, I’ll toddle off now, Donovan—it’s a long walk back to Grosvenor Square. Wattle has promised me some eggs. Good enough fellow, Wattle, and a decent man with an egg, even if he is a dun.”
Thomas, who had been unable to keep from smiling as Lord Chorley prattled on and on, waved the man on his way, then called after him, taking a leaf from Beau Brummell’s book. “My lord—do you have any enemies? Anyone? Perhaps someone nursing an old hurt who’d wish to see you brought low?”