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‘I think it does.’ Jem felt airless. ‘You argued with Toby over me?’
‘He was disinherited, failing his exams, discarded by his sister, and, to top it all, his most faithful worshipper was guilty of infidelity. And withyouof all people, a man without his looks or his birth or his God-given right to be adored. He was more than angry. He was humiliated.’
‘I never presumed I could compete with him,’ Jem said stiffly.
‘Well, you did, and he lost,’ Nicky said. ‘Not that I’m much of a prize, but there we were. Toby was no longer the centre of the world, to Ella or me or anyone, and he hated it.’
‘What happened?’ Jem asked. ‘After the rest of us left the Mitre, I mean. You two stayed longer, didn’t you?’
A whisper of cloth suggested Nicky’s shrug. ‘We spoke. Toby made his feelings very clear on Ella and Aaron and you and me, all in predictable terms; on Hugo’s ineffectuality at securing Ella’s hand, as if that would ever have happened, and on Prue, even.’
‘Prue?’
‘He spoke of her with startling contempt,’ Nicky said. ‘I don’t know why. He described her as a whore, which finished off my remaining shred of patience, so I called him several fairly trenchant things in return and left. I went to your digs, but you weren’t there, so I went back to mine, thence to Anselm’s to get a book I needed from Hartley, returned home, and got back to work. I had Finals in mind.’
He tapped Jem’s arm gently with the flask. Jem took it, swigged, and licked his lips. ‘Why did you go to my digs?’
‘To apologise, I hope, if I wasn’t too much of a coward or a fool. Probably to seek comfort. I expect I should have ended up bemoaning my broken idol and demanded your sympathy for having sacrificed you on his altar. I expect you’d have sympathised.’
‘Probably. I mostly did what you told me, didn’t I?’
‘Untrue, Jeremy.’ Nicky shifted, a jerky motion. ‘Ah, God. Toby was excruciating that last term. You don’t know how bad; you had your head in your books. He’d become suspicious of Ella’s loyalty some time before that night—she hadn’t mourned his lost prospects enough, was spending too much time with Aaron. And he was angry at you, well before I gave him reason to be.’
‘Why? What did I do?’
‘You came here with your club foot and your provincial accent, and triumphed. You weren’t meant to outstrip him, Jeremy, any more than Aaron, or anyone else in his collection.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jem said, but he had a hollow feeling he knew.
‘Look at us all. The women, the queer, the black, the commoner?—’
‘Hugo’s none of those things.’
‘Hugo and Toby both had a very good understanding of what they wanted from Oxford,’ Nicky said. ‘Hugo’s intention was to emerge as a progressive Liberal, a wealthy man with the common touch. If we hadn’t so inconveniently plunged him into scandal, I expect he’d be citing you and Aaron in the House now.My friends from across the Empire. I have spent a deal of time with the working classes.’
‘But—no. He was my friend. We liked one another. Ilikehim.’
‘He’s terribly likeable,’ Nicky said. ‘And so was Toby, with his marvellous gift for friendship, his disparate, wonderful group, so interesting and modern. He was noticed because of his friends?—’
‘He’d have been noticed anyway.’
‘Iknow. He was handsome and charming and exciting, and when he walked into a room, it was as though one had turned the gas to full. I adored him, even when I hated him, in his careless wonder. But…Oh, Jem. How many of us men took Anselm’s to sporting victory?’
‘All of us, except Toby.’
‘How many of us were on for Firsts, or the women’s equivalent?’
‘All of us, except Toby.’
‘Whose performance would one have praised first inCymbeline? Toby?’
‘You or Prue, but?—’
‘Who was elected to university positions? Prue had the Women’s Association, Hugo was chair of the Liberal Club, and what did Toby have? Secretary of the college JCR. He was the least of us, Jem. In the first year, it was all “Feynsham’s set”. By the third year, he was only notable because of us. And he didn’t like it.’
‘But he alwayssaidhe wasn’t a sportsman or a scholar. He made a joke of it.’ Jem huddled into his coat. ‘Until it wasn’t a joke, I suppose.’
‘He liked to be the golden lad. He liked to be surrounded by exceptional people who found him wonderful, and while he was a marquess in waiting, of course, hewaswonderful. And then his uncle spawned the brat, and instead of wealth and a title, he was looking at a poor degree and debts. The lame dogs he’d picked up were outstripping him at every turn, and then his most loyal lieutenants betrayed him, Ella with Aaron, I with you.’
