Page 13 of To Dare the Devil

“That good?” Louis replied with a snort, allowing Barnaby to haul him to his feet. “You astonish me.”

“I know. You can’t even be disgusting when you’re drunk. It’s really not fair on the rest of us, Louis.

Barnaby steadied him, slinging an arm about his waist and guiding him to the nearest chair. As he sat, he saw Louis’ back and gaped.

“Good Lord!” he said, staring in astonishment. Even more surprising was the embarrassment in Louis’ expression. He reached for the discarded towel and went to sling it over his shoulders, but Barnaby stopped him, snatching it from his hands as he gazed at Louis’ broad shoulders in consternation. His build alone was a sight surprising enough to make Barnaby stare. Like looking at a Greek god come to life. The fine tailoring he wore highlighted an elegant physique, but the power and muscle beneath that civilised exterior were a shock when revealed in the flesh. This, though, was so scandalous it overcame his innate desire to be polite. “No, show me. Is that… it is! It’s an eagle. Bless me! But how…?”

“Un tatouage—a tattoo. I was very young when it was done,” Louis said stiffly.

“It’s jolly good,” Barnaby said, startled to discover such a thing on his friend but fascinated all the same. The eagle was finely drawn, his wings stretching across Louis’ wide shoulders, talons reaching, beak open in a silent cry. The only men he knew of who had tattoos were sailors and criminal types, so to discover such a thing on the refined Comte de Villen was outrageous. He had a hundred questions and very much doubted Louis would answer any of them. “Did it hurt?” was the safest he could come up with.

“At the time, yes.”

“But… why?” Barnaby ventured, not expecting an explanation.

“Perhaps another time, mon ami,” Louis said with an apologetic smile. “It is a long story.”

Barnaby nodded reluctantly, not wanting to let the matter drop, but Elton reappeared. “Ah, and here is the coffee. Good man, Elton,” he said with approval as the valet carried in a tray and set it down in front of them.

“The bath will be ready presently, sir,” Elton said, casting an anxious glance at Louis.

Barnaby poured out a cup of coffee and put it into Louis’ hands. “Drink it,” he said firmly.

Louis sighed, but obediently raised the cup to his mouth and took a cautious sip.

“Elton, bring me writing materials, please. I need to send a letter,” Barnaby said, aware of Louis’ curious gaze upon him.

“At once, Mr Godwin,” Elton said, hurrying out again.

Louis opened his mouth to speak, but Barnaby beat him to it, too consumed with curiosity to let the matter drop. “You know, I’m surprised no one has ever mentioned that tattoo before. I assume Elton has seen it, but you’ve had a good many mistresses, and you know what women are for tattling.”

Louis gave him a long-suffering look. “Elton would rather die than let the world know his canvas has the slightest imperfection. As for my romantic interludes, I can trust some women to be discreet and, if not, I keep my shirt on, or employ the use of blindfolds, or the dark, or pleasure the lady from behind. Do you have any other questions?” he asked politely, though the words had an edge.

Barnaby felt colour climb the back of his neck. “Er… no. Not a one,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Louis sighed and then gave a huff of laughter. He shook his head and ran a hand through his damp hair.

“A letter?” he asked, watching Barnaby, who still stood before him, hoping to God he was doing the right thing. “To whom are you writing?”

“Ah. Yes. Now I don’t want to get your hopes up, for I’ve not the slightest idea if she’ll agree to it,” he warned, wondering if he would live to regret this but Louis stilled, staring up at him, so he carried on.

“I’ve an aunt, a grand old battleaxe. She’s terrified me since I was a boy, but… well, she lives in the Highlands, not a million miles from Wildsyde Castle. I warn you now, Castle Bradwell is a dreadful draughty old pile in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to do but walk and hunt, and catch pneumonia, if I recall. Also, I’ve not seen her in a decade, and I doubt she’s mellowed any, but she’s there, and she’s family and, if I ask, I reckon we could stay for a few days. It’s a long shot, but… well, you’d be in the vicinity, at least. Maybe—”

Louis set down his cup with a clatter and got to his feet, pulling Barnaby into a hug and kissing his cheek. “Merci, Barnaby. Thank you, my friend.”

Barnaby patted Louis’ back awkwardly, very aware of the scandalous tattoo under his hand and not quite certain how to deal with such a show of affection. “Oh, well. That’s… think nothing of it, old man. You might not thank me when you get there, though. It’s the back end of beyond. You’ll be bored stiff, and that’s before you even meet Great-Aunt Hester. A frightful old bat.”

“I would face a thousand frightful old bats for the slightest chance to speak with Evie again,” Louis said, the light of hope shining in his eyes, and making Barnaby glad that he could help, but utterly terrified that it might all be for naught.

One thing seemed certain: Louis was vulnerable where Evie was concerned, and Barnaby feared what losing her for good might do to him.

16th May 1842, Lower Square, Isleworth, London.

“I wanted to speak to you about the gardens next,” Kathy said, turning the page of her notebook.

Eliza nodded. “Oh, yes, the gardens have been of vital importance at the girls’ school. Many of the children hadn’t the slightest notion of how food was grown or where it came from. I’m certain too that being in nature has helped many of them, giving them a sense of peace, a place to calm themselves when things are difficult. And, in a purely practical light, it makes sense for the property to be as self-sufficient as possible. It also provides valuable skills for those who tend the garden, and here there is so much land on offer it would be a crime not to make the most of it. I think even some animals might be possible. Chickens and pigs, at least. Though finding someone willing to design and take charge of it all, when it is only a charitable school and there is little financial reward on offer, is another matter.”

Kathy looked around at the overgrown field that Eliza gestured to and smiled.