Page 29 of The Gentleman’s Thief

Sebastian’s pipe smoke was billowing in a blue-grey cloud from behind the copy of The Times newspaper that he was reading. We had enjoyed a hearty breakfast of toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausages.

“What do you think of this?” I said casually. The newspaper was lowered and I held up the card with the House of Commons motif showing. Sebastian hurriedly folded the newspaper, and placed it on the table, then removed the pipe from his mouth. He took the card from me and his eyes flitted over the script.

“This party is in two days. Are you thinking of attending?”

My immediate reaction to all invitations was to kindly make my excuses; however, with this particular invitation, it would not be the case. I understood deep down that I was obliged to attend.

“I haven’t decided yet. Should I go?”

“It’s crystal clear to me that now you have observed the activities of this cabal they would seek to pull you closer into their web by making you part of their social circle.”

“Indeed,” I said morosely. I did not want to be part of anyone’s social circle, let alone a group of men who believed that they could gain wisdom and immortality through ingesting another man’s spend. It was preposterous and I wished my name had not been put forward by… whomever the damnable fool was who had vouched for me.

“Attending would be an invaluable exercise in assisting us to identify the last four acolytes, don’t you think? And if I could find a way to sneak in I might chance a meet with young Baron Leopold.”

“Hmm…That would be an excellent idea!” The promise of Sebastian in the wings as my support made the thought of attending the party a little more palatable.

“What are your plans today, are you back at the office?” Sebastian tossed the invitation onto my stack of correspondence.

“I find I am still rather distracted. I have sent a note to say I remain under-the-weather and Annie is to reschedule all appointments.”

“Is that right?” Sebastian’s brows rose and wagged.

“My friend, you are a beastly distraction. But I will not sleep tonight unless I know where in damnation this blasted ritual took place. My dreams are haunted by flashes of such wickedness. I need to retrace my steps and find that house of…sin.”

“That, dear heart is an excellent way to spend a day! Do you have a map of London in your study?”

“I do.”

“Come, let’s take a look at it and try and work out exactly where you were taken.”

After Sebastian had made use of my facilities we relocated to my study. I unrolled my London map and laid it on the table at the far end of the room weighting each corner with small objects from my desk.

I returned to my desk to retrieve a magnifying glass because the maze of streets was rather discombobulating to the eye. When I turned back Sebastian was bent over the table, his firm, round backside appearing all too-tempting. I eyed him lecherously. Ordinarily when I experienced such sinful thoughts about a man shame washed through me and I fought hard to pray the sinful thoughts away. But this fine fellow did not invoke shame in me. On the contrary, I was not ashamed. The fact he had expressed his admiration and returned my interest was still quite extraordinary. I stood admiring the shape of his hips and how his back curved to meet his buttocks, and those long athletic legs. And then, it was as if my interest caused a pulse of electricity to pass between us because Sebastian paused in his search of the map, turned his head, and pinned me with a challenging gaze.

“See anything you like?”

I blushed at my discovery, and then, emboldened, moved to stand behind him. I pressed my crotch to his backside and leaned in. He pushed his bottom back and my manhood responded as expected. I put my mouth to Sebastian’s ear and in a low intimate voice said,

“I see many things I like—“ Teasingly, I placed my finger on the map, “Here, for instance, my home at Bedford Place, I like it very much.”

I straightened and moved to the other side of the table. Sebastian was speechless at my flirtation and it gave me confidence that even an old fool like me could have such an effect on a man as brilliant as Cavell. I grinned at Sebastian and he wordlessly held my gaze as he smiled back. He reached for the magnifying glass and together we moved it to follow the streets from my home on Bedford Place to The Strand.

“Here!” I stabbed my finger on the map at the location of Adam Street. The street was close to Victoria Embankment and the River Thames with Waterloo Bridge to the left, and Charing Cross Bridge to the right. Ahead was The Strand, then the Covent Garden district. The area was vast.

“You said there was a tunnel—”

“Aye,”

“How long did you walk underground for?”

“I cannot say, my anxiety got the better of me and I was afraid for my life.” Our eyes met again and I ashamed by my weakness, I lowered my gaze. “You must think me an awful coward.”

“No, not at all. I have, on occasion, needed to avail of a London sewer to make an escape. It is not something I do lightly. Time passes peculiarly underground, the stench, the eerie sounds, the rats. I hate it, but needs must!”

I was silent for a moment and then said,

“I suppose, at a guess, I would suggest I was not underground for more than ten minutes and I believe we walked away from the river. It was somewhere off The Strand I am sure.”