Page 55 of The Devil to Pay

A familiar figure on the street ahead of him caught his eye as he marched along.

“Harleston!” he called, though the wind snatched away the sound and the man did not turn.

Conor Baxter, Viscount Harleston, had been a friend since his schooldays, though they didn’t see a great deal of each other. Harleston was rather more serious than the rest of them and whilst he was a founding member of the Sons of Hades, he had never taken an active role. A fastidious fellow, he had always been something of a mystery to Jules. Hurrying up to him, Jules tapped him on the shoulder, wondering why he was standing in the middle of the street on such a vile day.

“What?” Harleston snapped irritably, turning to glare at Jules, who raised his eyebrows in astonishment at such a reaction. For Harleston was unfailingly polite, always the gentleman. “Oh, I beg your pardon, Blackstone,” he said gruffly and returned to what he had been doing, which was rubbing briskly at a dark stain on his otherwise immaculate coat.

“What happened?” Jules asked, amused now, for one thing guaranteed to get Harleston’s feathers ruffled was someone making a mess of his neatly ordered world.

“I escorted Mother and Cara to Gunter’s, Latimer is meeting them there, but in the short time I was there, some clumsy girl managed to throw her cup of chocolate over me. I still don’t understand how she managed it, for she was sitting down, and I was only walking past. One might believe she’d done it on purpose, but I’ve never seen the creature in my life before. I wouldn’t mind, but she had the nerve to imply it was my fault!” he added, incensed.

“Oh dear, bad luck, old chap,” Jules said, trying his best not to laugh at the fellow’s misfortune. “Listen, I’m off to Monmouth this afternoon but I’m starving. I’m going to grab a quick bite to eat before I leave, want to come?”

Harleston shook his head. “I’m not going out in this ruined coat. I shall have to go home and change,” he said, stuffing the handkerchief back in his pocket.

“Suit yourself,” Jules said with a sigh, falling into step with him as he strode off.

“Well, Blackstone, I might be irritated about being attacked with a hot beverage but what’s got you looking so anxious?” Harleston demanded as they crossed the square. “Has Lord Haversham decided to go to court?”

Jules stopped in his tracks, his heart suddenly crashing about. “Don’t tell me it’s common knowledge now?”

Harleston snorted, shaking his head. “Good grief, the panic in your eyes! Not that I blame you. No, it isn’t, but this is bad, Jules. How many times have I warned you this is where you’d end up? But did you listen?”

“Yes, yes, thank you ever so, Cassandra,” Jules retorted, nettled. “But who told you?”

“Latimer heard it from the Comte de Villen. No idea where he got it from, but he always seems to know the latest on dits. I don’t think anyone outside our intimate circle knows, though.”

Jules let out a breath. That was something, he supposed. For now.

“Where are you off to, then? Monmouth, you say?” Harleston gave him a narrow look, his expression considering. “Don’t tell me. Is there, perchance, a lady waiting for you?”

“Yes, as it happens,” Jules replied tersely. “And with a bit of luck – no, a lot of luck, that lady will one day be my wife.” With that said he at least had the satisfaction of striding off, leaving Harleston looking utterly thunderstruck.

18th March 1845, Llun-y-mynydd, Monmouthshire.

Selina stared at the accounts book before her. The numbers were doing little whirling dances and made no sense at all. She blinked, bringing the page back into focus and cursing herself for the tenth time in as many minutes. Drat the man. No matter how many times she promised herself she would not think of him, would not moon about like a silly girl, would not sigh and stare out into the garden and daydream about stolen kisses… here she was, thinking of him and mooning over him and daydreaming. It was intolerable.

“Lina.”

Selina lifted her head to regard Benjamin. She had set his bricks out on the rug in front of the fire, for Hilly had fallen asleep directly after lunch and she hadn’t the heart to wake her. He had played nicely, building castles and knocking them over, for the past twenty minutes. The lure of his bricks had finally lost their appeal, though.

“Yes, my pet,” she said, holding out her arms to him as he made his way to her.

“Want Mark,” he said, his soft brow furrowing. He pointed at his bricks, his expression one of disgruntlement.

“You want him to build castles with you?” she guessed, her heart aching.

“Yes. Get Mark, Lina. I like Mark.”

“I like Mark too,” she said wistfully. “But it won’t do, sweetie. It won’t do.”

“Yes. Will do. Mark come to live here. He come here with Jammy and Lina and Abi and…”

“No, darling. Mark cannot do that, but I’ll build a castle with you if you would like?”

Benjamin received this offer with the scorn it apparently deserved. “No. Want Mark,” he said stubbornly.

Selina sighed.