Barbara Metzger Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’d embarrass myself by casting up accounts on her shoes or something, so I sent her a note and took a hackney home.”
    Forrest ran his fingers through his hair, wondering whether he’d pull it all out or turn gray before this tale was told. He frowned at his brother and told him, “You know, you take after Mother.”
    “And when you knot your eyebrows together like that and start shouting, you remind me of the governor. Just don’t throw anything ‘cause I can’t duck right now. There’s not much more to tell anyway.
    “The next morning I woke up late, stopped by the bank to withdraw the balance, and at Rundell’s to pick out a trinket for Roxy. Then I called on Mr. Chester at the address on his card, to redeem my vowels. Only he didn’t have them. Said he had expenses of his own, gambling losses he had to meet, so he’d sold my notes to a moneylender to get money to pay off his debts. Have you ever heard the like? A gentleman would have given a chap to the end of the week, at least. Well, I told him what I thought of such a scurvy move, in no uncertain terms, you can be sure.”
    “I bet you threatened to call him out.”
    Brennan smiled, and a tiny glimmer of the blue spark showed in his one good eye. “Worse. I swore never to play with him again. At any rate, I went to the new address, somebody Randall, an Irish Shylock. I introduce myself, tell him I want to settle up—and damned if this Randall says I don’t owe hundreds, I owe thousands! With interest building every day. He shows me chits that look like my hand, but they couldn’t be. I don’t have that kind of blunt and I didn’t play that deep, I swear.”
    “I believe you, cawker,” Forrest said. He rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “So what happened? You went after Randall?”
    Brennan cursed in disgust. “I didn’t even get the chance. He whistles and this ogre as big as a house lurches out of a side room. Next thing I know, I’m lying in the gutter. They’ve got my purse, my watch, and Roxy’s bracelet. Goliath is grinning and the bastard Irishman is claiming I still owe a thousand pounds. Says he’ll go to the governor if I don’t pay up in a week, or send his bully to call to remind me.” He winced. “As if I could forget.”
    “You can. Just rest now, I’ll take care of it.”
    All of it. The bogus debt, the bone crusher, the bloodsucker, and the cardsharp.
    Forrest Mainwaring really was an even-tempered, mild-mannered gentleman to the dignified core. He was tolerant, temperate, thoughtful, and slow to anger. He waited till after luncheon.
    First he sent a note to his mother, assuring her of Brennan’s welfare and, out of habit, his father’s continuing devotion. Then he checked some of the accounts, sent a note round to a new hiring agency, and made an excellent meal of turbot in oyster sauce, veal Marsala, a taste of rarebit, tomatoes in aspic, and cherry trifle.
    * * * *
    Viscount Mayne proceeded methodically down his list. His first stop was the bank, his second Rundell and Bridges, the jewelers. After consulting their sales records, the store’s manager was able to find a duplicate of Mademoiselle Rochelle’s erstwhile gift. Forrest matched the simple bracelet to a necklace set with emeralds—a redhead, n’est-ce pas?—and dangling earbobs.
    * * * *
    “Coo-ee,” Bren’s chérie exclaimed in perfect cockney. “If those ain’t the dabbest sparklers Oi ever seen!” Having seen a bit of the world herself, she knew the meaning of such a generous gift. “‘E’s not comin’ back, then, your love of a brother?”
    “His illness is more than a trifling indisposition, he regrets. He did not want you to wait.”
    “Ain’t that a real gentleman.” She was admiring the effect of her new possessions in a smoky glass over a dressing table littered with bottles and jars and powders. She suddenly spun around to face his lordship, eyes wide with concern. “ ‘Tain’t nothin’ catchy-like, is