Page 87 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
“I know, Mrs. Chaffinch, I promise we’ll be out today,” he said, exasperated that she thought he needed more than matronly disapproval to understand the severity of his crimes against the morals of their fine nation and her boarding house specifically.
The knock came again, and if Edward wasn’t mistaken, that was a man’s fist on the other side of the door. He sighed, hoping that his landlady hadn’t summoned toughs to throw them out. Collecting his belongings from the street might be the blow that finally killed him and his curiously stony heart.
“Yes?” asked Edward at the door, loath to open it without some sense of what awaited him.
“Messenger.”
“Bearing a message from?”
“His Lordship the Marquess of Chasterly. Please open the door.”
By now, Tabby had awoken from her slumber and was rising from the bed. Gesù, the last thing he needed was for one of his father’s gossiping servants to find a young woman in his lodging house! Why that should be worse than his general reputation as a stud and seducer, he didn’t know, but he didn’t want to discover that his intuition was correct.
“Stay under here,” he said, tossing the blankets over Tabby. “And don’t move.”
She looked at him sleepily, then nodded and seemed content to enjoy more time abed. She really wasn’t joking about her aspiration to do no work, the lollpoop!
Edward opened the door to a footman wearing the Chasterly livery. The man bowed and held out a message bearing the marquess’s crest.
He’d been waiting to receive a missive like this since returning to England, but until now, one hadn’t arrived. Even when Edward’s allowance had been cut off, his father hadn’t written to him; Edward found out when he could no longer get credit. Rather than directly telling his son that the income was no more, his father had undertaken to inform the whole of London, starting with his butcher.
When Edward opened the letter, he turned the pages this way and that, trying to find the message. And then he realized: even when his father deigned to send him a letter, he couldn’t be bothered to scratch out a few words.
The meaning was clear enough.
“If you’ll come with me,” said the footman, moving to the stairs.
Edward could have refused. What was the old man going to do to him — cut off his already suspended allowance?
But part of him wondered what had inspired this reversal.
“Tabby,” he whispered to the pile of blankets. “Pack up the room while I’m gone. We’re moving today, and I’ll be back soon.”
His ever-faithful friend extended a wave of acknowledgement and farewell, and Edward followed the footman out.
***
“In Roman times, the Senate charged a father with killing his worthless children.”
Edward stood before his father, the Marquess of Chasterly, for the first time in years, and the old man spoke aboutpatria potestas, how very like him.
“Expose them to the elements after birth, take a sword to their necks, anything to prevent them from poisoning the family line.”
The marquess continued in this vein, cataloguing the ways an ancient parent could legally kill their child before he went silent again. Chasterly picked up one of a pair of old dueling pistols from an open case on his desk and aimed it at his son and heir.
Edward maintained his composure, having been subjected to scenes like this many times throughout the years. Why, on several occasions, his father had fired the thing just shy of his shoulder. He was rather more trusting of the accuracy of firearms than Edward was.
“I’ve been hearing things about you,” said Chasterly, tossing the pistol back into the case.
Edward catalogued his activities since he last saw his father and reckoned that nothing he’d heard could be consideredgoodby the man. This was unlikely to be a warm reunion. But considering the parties involved, that was to be expected.
“Poisoning your own line was not enough,” said the marquess, leaning back in his chair as if pained by the substantial burden of fatherhood. “Now you’re contaminating other families.”
Ah, so hispaterknew of the breeding business. Well, convincing Edward to suspend it was as simple as restoring his allowance, so this might be a productive meeting after all.
“A man must eat,” said Edward.
“Must he?” asked Chasterly, fondly eyeing the dueling pistol again. “They also say you’ve got an urchin always at your side. You best not be meddling with boys now, you hear me!”
