“If you say so.” Alfie frowned. “So we have a poor man, working for a wealthy one. But if he’s being paid to kill me, then why the letter?”
That was a good question. Dominick turned the letter over in his hands, looking for some sort of answer.
“Unless…” A fire lit in Alfie's eyes, and his gestures grew more animated. “The other two attempts could have passed as accidental. Even I thought they were at first. But he has to know an earl being shot in the street would be investigated, not to mention the headline on every paper between here and Bombay. He’s not trying to hide it anymore.”
Alfie got up and started to pace down the long side of the table, the silk of his banyan fluttering behind him. Dominick felt a pang in his heart every time Alfie mentioned the shooting. The thought that someone had come so close to snuffing out this bright flame of a man was unbearable.
Dominick had a vision then of what could have been. Alfie lying somewhere cold and alone, a slowly growing pool of blood forming under him and running out into the indifferent streets as the spark in those luminous eyes dimmed forever. And Dominick, never even knowing Alfie was in danger, going on with the same dreary routine of his daily life, working, fighting, fucking. Never even knowing that he’d failed to protect the only good thing he’d ever had.
He was shaken out of his morbid reverie when Alfie reached the end of the table and spun around, snapping his fingers.
“I’ll bet he’s trying to double his profit. He expects me to pay the blackmail, then after I have, he’ll take the reward for killing me.”
A dark thought overtook Dominick. “Or the next letter he sends asking for payment is a trap to lure you somewhere nice and secluded.”
“Or that.” Alfie turned on his heel, beginning another long lap of the table. “I don’t see how this gets us any closer to finding him.”
Dominick watched Alfie pace, but doing that got him no closer to discovering who was threatening him. He looked back down at the letter, hoping to find something else to lead them to the blackmailer.
“How many places in London do you think sell this fine a paper?”
“Not very many,” Alfie said. “Why?”
“And all in only the most exclusive neighbourhoods, I’m sure. Not a lot of call for them elsewhere. Think about it, if someone who looked like me walked into a store like that, you’d notice, wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“So all we have to do is go to these fancy shops, and ask if they remember any dirty and disreputable types buying paper from them.”
Dominick couldn’t help but grin, smug at the cleverness of his reasoning.
“Dirty and disrep—oh. Oh! Dominick, you’re a genius!” Alfie ran to the door and pulled a braided cord that hung beside them. Faintly, Dominick could hear the echoing of a bell ringing somewhere in the empty house.
“When she comes, please give my regards to Mrs. Hirkins for the excellent breakfast and ask her to send word that I’ll need my carriage and a driver for the day. I need to go finish dressing, then we can get started.”
Alfie was halfway out the door before Dominick asked, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Even down the length of the room he could see the furrow in Alfie's brow. “What?”
“I never actually agreed to work for you. And you still owe me ten pounds.”
“Oh. Of course. I just assumed… But of course you can’t be expected... One moment and I’ll fetch my pocketbook.”
Alfie's shoulders slumped and Dominick could kick himself. Christ, he’d just meant to tease him a little. Either he was too out of practice with giving a bit of ribbing, or Alfie was too out of practice receiving it.
“Of course I’ll take the job, you muttonhead. Clearly someone’s got to look out for you. I did it for free long enough, might as well let you pay me for the privilege this time around.”
“Thank you, Dominick,” Alfie said softly. “There’s no one I’d rather have at my back than you.” Then a look of confusion passed over his face. “How much does one pay a bodyguard anyway?”
Dominick laughed. “I wouldn’t know. It’s not like I’m a real bodyguard. I guess it depends on who he’s guarding.”
“An earl?”
Dominick considered, “Well now, that would be expensive. I’d need at least two castles, and a cart full of gold that takes eight horses to pull.”
Alfie smiled impishly over his shoulder as he walked out the door. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing I’m not a real earl.”
Chapter 11
By the fifth stationer, Alfie was beginning to think that their plan was flawed. The near permanent scowl on Dominick's face suggested he felt the same way. The carriage slowed as it turned onto Clifford Street then came to a stop in front of a store window with finely made quills, ink pots and stationery sets on prominent display.
“Once more into the breach?” Alfie asked.
Dominick sighed heavily in reply and did not move from his slouch. They sat at diagonals, the only way to keep from bumping knees in the confined space, but Alfie still found the proximity to the other man to be stiflingly close. Funny, he had shared a carriage with several people at a time before and it had never been an issue, even when he was escorting her mother and her lady friends somewhere and risked drowning under their endless shawls or losing an eye to an overly feathered bonnet.
“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
Dominick sighed again, then slowly unfolded himself and reached for the door handle. “I can’t exactly keep an eye on you if I’m hiding away in here. Come on.”
As they exited the carriage, Alfie took a quick moment to surreptitiously check that all of his buttons, seams, and sleeves were in place and flicked a bit of lint from his cuff. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Dominick spread his arms and arch his back obscenely before cracking his neck to either side. A bolt of lust shot through Alfie and he quickly averted his eyes.
How beautifully aware and comfortable in his body Dominick seemed, although on reflection he had winced a little and leaned more heavily to one side than the other. Probably his severely bruised if not cracked ribs from the night before. Alfie would have to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t over-exert himself.
Still, he was envious of Dominick’s freedom to move in such a manner in public without caring who saw. To better maintain his role as the perfect earl, Alfie was aware of his appearance at all times and worked hard to constantly uphold the image of an immaculate gentleman. He doubted his tight jacket and even tighter waistcoat would allow him to bend in such a way even if he dared attempt it.
He tapped his cane on the pavement and strode into the store. The smell of ink and paper hit him immediately, the comfort of the familiar smell relaxing his shoulders just a little. Perhaps this experience would not be as unpleasant as the last four. If they were extraordinarily lucky, then perhaps the shopkeeper would remember selling the paper to someone outside of his standard clientele and they would have a general description or even a name.
Within a few hours, Alfie might have the entire situation handled. The blackmailer would be found and with Dominick at his side for a bit of intimidation, dissuaded from pursuing any further actions against him. Then Alfie could retire to his study, put his feet up by the fire, and free himself of these ridiculously confining layers.
Dominick would be there too, of course, sprawled in his chair like a king. The firelight would catch the invitation in his eyes, and Alfie would rise, cross over to stand between those spread thighs before—
“Can I help you, my lord?”
Alfie shook himself and addressed the small bespectacled man just quickly enough that the moment didn’t stretch into awkwardness. “Yes, I was hoping you could tell me—”
The man, who had been smiling serenely as Alfie spoke suddenly cut his eyes over to the door, his entire demeanor changing to one of extreme umbrage.
“You! Out! This is a respectable
business! Be gone!”
Alfie exhaled heavily. He didn’t even have to turn to know the man was addressing Dominick, who occupied the doorway behind him. The same thing had happened at every other stationer they had visited today. The shopkeepers would fawn all over Alfie the second he walked in the door, but the moment they laid eyes on Dominick, they acted as if a leprous dog had wandered in to defecate on the floor and then die.
It had been so long since Alfie had lived without the mantle of wealth and privilege that he barely remembered what it was like. Was this how the poor were regarded everywhere—with immediate hostility and suspicion? Alfie was ashamed of his ignorance.
“He’s with me,” he said.
The shopkeeper glanced swiftly back and forth between them. “My lord?” he said tentatively.
Alfie sighed. It looked as if he wasn’t going to be as lucky as he’d hoped after all.
✽✽✽
Less than ten minutes later found them back in the carriage as it slowly made its way through the busy streets. That store had been the last stationer on the list Alfie had been able to come up with. He’d tried at the first two stores to get the names of others, but the owners had been reluctant to share the names of their competition, especially after Dominick's presence soured their demeanors.
His stomach grumbled. He had thought earlier that it might be nice to treat Dominick to a luncheon at one of his clubs, but based on the agitation his presence had caused in a simple paper shop, he wasn’t sure the idea was worth the potential uproar and embarrassment. Not to mention the gossip. The Earl of Crawford bringing a commoner to Boodle’s—or even worse—White’s? The entire ton would have been informed in time for the evening rush.
As a result, he’d put off suggesting they stop for anything to eat at all, and now his hunger only added to his irritation.
“Well, that went about as well as expected,” said Dominick not at all helpfully.
“I told you that you didn’t have to come in,” Alfie snapped.
“And I told you that yes, I did. It would have been nice if you hadn’t acted so shocked every single time they tried to throw me out on my ear.”
“How was I to know?”
“What did you think they would do? ‘Oh here, milord. One moment, milord. Let me just set some more easily pocketable things over near your friend with the bloodstained trousers, milord.’”
“This was your idea in the first place!”
“I know!” Dominick shouted, then slumped back, the wind seemingly gone from his sails. “I know. And it seemed like a good idea at the time. I’m sorry, I’m being an oaf. It just wears on you. It’s one thing to be nothing and spend all your time with other folk who are the same, but to come over here…”
“You’re not nothing, Dominick.”
“Sure. Then tell me why we haven’t stopped for luncheon when I’ve been listening to your stomach crying for the last two hours.”
“W-well of course we could get something to eat.” Alfie stuttered, caught off guard at how closely Dominick's thoughts matched his own. “I was only thinking to wait until we had finished our errand is all, but there must be a pub? Or a cart nearby. I’ll have the driver...”
“Or we could just go down to the Thames and catch the eels in our teeth. That’s how common folk eat, don’t you remember?”
The guilt Alfie felt earlier redoubled under Dominick's words. He knew that he had forgotten a lot of things from his childhood, but he hadn’t forgotten the pain of going hungry, or of being so cold in the winter that he couldn’t feel his feet, or the bone deep exhaustion that long hours of grinding work did to a body, only to be unable to sleep because your muscles were so sore.
He also remembered who had been there to sneak him an extra crust of bread or rub his feet until feeling returned even though he was just as tired and miserable as Alfie was. It was the same person he was now treating so shamefully that he couldn’t even face taking him out for a hot meal.
“I’m sorry,” Alfie said in a voice as small as he felt. “I’ve treated you very poorly today, and even worse, allowed others to do the same. Please accept my apologies. I’d say that it’s been a rather trying few weeks, but that’s no excuse when you’ve done nothing but try to help me.”
Dominick was silent for a long time. “Well, that’s not true. I did try to choke you yesterday.”
Alfie nodded, “When you’ve done nothing but try to help me, excluding one incident of attempted choking.”
“Apology accepted,” said Dominick, his innate good nature showing through the dark cloud that surrounded them both. Alfie made a note to himself not to take advantage of that nature, and to be especially careful of Dominick’s feelings in future.
“Now by God, I really could eat a live eel.” Dominick thumped his fist on the roof of the carriage to tell the driver to stop. “Hand over some of that that ten quid you owe me, and I’ll treat you to the finest meat pie the first pub I see has to offer. You wait for me here. I don’t need some barmaid ‘milording’ all over the place when I’m just trying to get a bite to eat. Would put me right off my food.”
Alfie laughed and handed over the money. A pie wouldn’t cost more than a few pence, but if he added an extra few pounds to the full ten, neither of them said anything. He did have to pay Dominick some kind of wage after all.
As Dominick disappeared into the colourfully named The Bear and Staff with a waggle of his eyebrows, Alfie dropped back into his seat with a sigh. He had no idea what their next steps should be. The paper had been their one clue. Unless they could think of something else, there was nothing to do now except await the delivery of a follow-up letter listing demands.
Or another attempt on my life, he mused.
Nothing to be done about it now though. Perhaps an idea would present itself once they had sated their appetites.
Alfie flushed at the images the idea brought to mind. He forced himself to look out the window on the opposite side of the carriage from the pub that held Dominick. There was always something going on in the streets, surely he would find distraction there.
He glanced across the throngs of people going about their daily lives, but there was unfortunately little to interest him. An old woman was ladling steaming bowls of salop for waiting customers, but neither spilled a drop of the fragrant drink nor had any customers disinclined to pay. A stray dog wandered into the path of a group of young boys, but they barely paused long enough to give the mongrel a quick pat on the head before allowing it to continue on its way without distress. Even the wind refused to blow a single bonnet off a single lady’s head!
He was about to give up his perusal in disgust at the downright civility on display when his eye happened to catch on a strange man lounging in a doorway a few buildings down. There was nothing in his appearance that warranted particular note, short men with pale hair and long shabby coats were two-a-penny in London after all, but he seemed to be staring directly across the street, either at the pub or Alfie’s carriage, but made no attempt to approach either.
A prickle of unease traced down Alfie’s spine. The longer he looked at the man, the more he seemed vaguely familiar, but Alfie couldn’t quite place him.
The coach door opened with a bang. Alfie started, knocking his head against the low ceiling.
“Sorry about that, hard to open the door balancing these,” Dominick clambered his way inside with a paper wrapped package in either hand.
Alfie looked back out the window, but the man was gone.
“See something interesting?” Dominick asked, passing Alfie one of the savory smelling parcels.
“I’m not sure. There was a man across the street looking this way, but he’s gone now. It was probably nothing, but it did seem odd.”
Dominick leaned across him to get a better look. Alfie pressed himself as deeply into the cushions as possible.
“Don’t see anyone odd now. Odder than usual at least,” Dominick sat back and began to tear at the wrapping on his lunc
h. “Still, we can’t be too careful. You let me know the second that someone else catches your eye.”
Alfie nodded mutely as he watched Dominick lick a drop off gravy off his thumb. He didn’t think someone else would be catching his eye anytime soon.
✽✽✽
It was barely a blink before the two perfectly serviceable steak and kidney pies Dominick had acquired at the pub were gone, devoured with the fervor of men who had had a very unpleasant day. Full and content, Alfie was on the edge of drowsing as the motion of the carriage rocked them on its steady way back to Bedford Square.
“Are you sure you won’t stay for tea?” he asked. “I’m not going out this evening so I won’t need your services later, but you’re more than welcome to refresh yourself before heading home.”
“Thank you, no,” Dominick said, equally soporific. He kept raising his feet like he wanted to put them up on the seat cushions and fully stretch out but caught himself each time. “If you don’t need me, there’s errands and such I need to run.”
His sleepy eyes caught Alfie's. “Maybe another time.”
“Tomorrow for sure,” Alfie said firmly. “And you have to take the carriage back. I still can’t believe you walked all this way.”
“The horses would be missing and the driver stripped naked before we even made the Whitechapel Mile,” Dominick laughed. “The walk will do me good, helps the digestion.”
“Have it your way,” Alfie smiled as they pulled into Bedford Square and his townhome came into view. “Same time tomorrow? I’ll tell Mrs. Hirkins to expect two for breakfast.”
“I’d love to hear what she says to that.” Dominick exited the carriage with a groan. He stretched again in the same vaguely obscene fashion before offering a quick wave. “Until tomorrow, Alfie!”
Alfie watched Dominick round the park until he disappeared at the corner of Gower Street headed south. Then he reluctantly turned away. After advising the driver he might be needed the following day, he walked up the stairs into the house and tried to think of some way to fill the long, empty hours before bed.
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