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My nails bore holes into my callous palms as I watch him leave, and I slap the ledgers, ink, and books from my desk. Papers fly across the room; ink stains the carpet.
They let him get away. How could a man dupe those twice their age? Townes Primrose owes me a large sum of money, and he’s been running for a long time.
Some years ago, he came to me, asking for a loan, claiming to have some great, world-changing invention that would reap profits. And like a fool, I gave him that money. He convinced me to invest in that idea when his funding dwindled. I did. He promised that with his profits, he’d pay me back. Doubled too.
I gave him one year to fulfil that promise, to no avail. The old clamp has remained hidden for five years.
I took pity on the man and bought his falsehood because he was the last living member of the Primrose family, one immediately beneath mine in title, which meant that at one point, they were almost as wealthy as mine. Our families were frequently together, and I had become accustomed to them. But they came upon great misfortune and soon, turned to me and my family for loans. When I was a simpleton and before I learned the realities of the world. Things, however, have changed.
My type of loans isn’t the favourable kind. It comes with consequences and with the death of the rest of the Primrose family, their debt accumulated. As the lone survivor, the duty remains his, to right those debts. And I intend for him to pay me back, one way or another.
Groaning, I throw on my waistcoat over my undershirt. I don’t need to be suffocated by a vest tonight as I head out into the dark and whistle for my horse. He’s dark as midnight, hard for anyone to see coming beneath dull streetlamps, which means people hardly see me coming. I like being mysterious, then again, certain times, I may enjoy putting on a performance of my own. Mounting Midnight, we gallop into town where I hope to find much better entertainment. Newer distractions.
I approach a club. This is no gentleman’s club. But I’m no gentleman. A knock is required before entry is allowed.
“Sir.” The doorman bows upon seeing me. He doesn’t make eye contact with me again as he steps aside to allow me in. A room filled with moans and vulgar discourse is silenced once people catch sight of me. But unless Townes Primrose is present in this club tonight, no one needs to worry about any chaos.
Their activities don’t resume until I remove my high hat and make my way over to an empty seat. As soon as I sit, and there is a glass of spirits next to me on the table, a woman joins me, dancing. I smile at her. She’s new and thankfully, not blond, or else I would have lost my head.
Since she’s new, I may charm her. Smiling, I run my hand through my dark-blond hair sitting upon my neck.
“My Lord, you have a beautiful smile,” she says, pulling the strings of her corset.
“Oh, do I?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink.
Before me, harlots bare themselves to men, encouraging them out of their clothes. Wet mouths smack as they pull at each other, and men conceal their sticks between the whores’ legs: against the wall, on a single wooden chair, on tabletops, or if they can afford it, in special rooms. The only music in the room consists of the grunts and moans of unmarried people engaging in the marital act. The aroma of spirits, tobacco, and sex is heady.
The woman before me has successfully rid herself of her corset, and her large breasts move toward my face. I put my hand out, creating some distance between us.
“For now, dancing is enough,” I respond.
“Will you dance with me, My Lord?” she asks, extending her hand.
A soft laugh escapes me. She extends it with such honour and virtue, and the irony is quite amusing. “Aren’t you the jester,” I respond. “I’m afraid I do not dance.”
She clicks her tongue. “Oh, well, that’s a shame,” she says, before walking away. No one walks away from me, but tonight, I don’t feel particularly up to setting her straight. My mood is soured, and nothing appears capable of fixing it.
I’m nothing more than a spectator, and a drunk, because I do not leave the club until I am absolutely foxed. This part of town is no place for a man of fortune. There are people lying in wait to inflict terrible danger on an unsuspecting fool. Yet, I prefer this part of town to the hypocrisy of life as a member of the upper echelon.
Here, people know who and what they are. They know struggle, betrayal, and heartbreak. I may not belong here with my fortune, but as they wallow in their pain, I don’t feel so alone, losing myself in mine. It’s selfish, I suppose, and in some ways, cruel. For with my fortune, I may control them if I wish. But I don’t wish to do so. I prefer to be on my own, feeding off their struggles for strength before retiring to my hidden-away luxury lodging.
Finally, when Midnight takes me home, and I rest my head on my pillow, the longstanding wound in my heart is drowned into the ocean of spirits.
Chapter Three
Olivia
“Papa,areyousureyou must leave right away? I’m sure your latest invention is great, but surely, it can wait until the next exhibition. I’ll miss you badly if you go. It’ll be too lonely. Besides, your previous invention is doing quite well, financially.” I hug my father tightly, wrapping my arms around his paternal body.
He strokes my hair. “Yes, it is. But darling, if I put off what I can achieve today for tomorrow, I fear they may become bored with my previous invention. And unless you marry someone wealthy…”
My head swings up at him. Our finances can’t be so terrible, can they? At the furrow of my brow and the opening of my mouth to ask of our situation, he pats my back.
“There, there, my darling. You don’t have to frightened. But, well, I will have to keep my inventions fresh. If we want to be taken care of, financially, for the future, then I will have to keep coming up with new ideas that the rich want. We can’t think only of our present; we also need to set our sights on our future.” He smiles.
Fighting back a sniffle, I release myself from his hold. “Very well. Then you’ll have to make haste before the darkness,” I say, retrieving his high hat and riding coat.
“Darling, it’s only early afternoon. I’ll be in Lhyrenia within a few hours after my departure. The sun won’t go down on me before then,” he says, softening his brown eyes at me.
