‘No,’ James said firmly, making Archer laugh.
‘Then that’s that. Who’s for seconds?’
‘I rather fear Mr Hawkins has eaten it all,’ Thomas said and refilled their glasses.
Twenty-Six
The following day, Thomas, assisted by Mr Norwood, closed the reception rooms while James ran errands, and the viscount saw to his business. After they had been shopping, he and Silas saw them onto the Great Western sleeper service in the evening and returned to Clearwater House for a late supper and an early night.
The day after that, having packed a box of items from his study, Archer left the house to tidy up a few loose ends, and the Norwoods took themselves off to deliver gifts, leaving Silas alone in Clearwater House.
In the hall, the chandelier was dark, and the fire unlit. There were no decorations, no flowers or glittering lamps, and no bustle. He expected Thomas to glide from below stairs and sweep into the drawing room as stately as the house itself, or to see James at the door, his shoulders straight, his chin up, dashing in his uniform. Instead, nothing moved through the building apart from a chill breeze that crept in beneath the front door uninvited and inquisitive. With it came reminders of Silas’ life a few short months ago. He thought of the renters in Greychurch and imagined what he would have been doing at that moment had the fates not sent him Archer. The images did not bear thinking about.
He was uneasy. No matter how much he told himself that he was loved and safe, that he had friends with good hearts and noble minds, and no matter how warm he was when in the arms of the man he loved, something was not right.
At first, he put it down to the trauma of the past few days. It was not the arrest and the beating that gnawed at his happiness like rats, nor even the loneliness of the cell or the public accusations. He had struggled to keep his silence. Even believing in James and knowing somehow that he would do the right thing, it had been a strain. Worse was holding his tongue in court and putting his fate in the hands of a barrister he didn’t know while the public looked on scornfully, judging him and believing the lies against him. It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do.
Until he met Archer, he thought it was impossible for him to love. In the same way, he was unable to trust until he met Fecker. Standing there in the dock, he had fought against his instincts to tell the truth and allowed other men to guide his life. It had only been possible thanks to Jimmy.
None of those things was the cause of his disquiet; he had suffered worse indignities in his twenty years. The degradation of renting, hunger pains that stabbed so hard they took his breath away, fights and danger, being spat on and kicked, he was used to abuse. It attacked and passed by, but there was something deeper that remained after it had scuttled back to the shadows and the gutters, something that left him incomplete.
It wasn’t that he was missing his sisters, he thought as he climbed the staircase, dimming in the fading light. He would visit them when he could, and he would send money when he had it. They were in the care of his older cousin and would be looked after until such time as he could find a way to give them something better in life. They had a community. Not the best, not the cleanest or safest, but Archer’s friend in Westerpool was keeping an eye, and for that, he was grateful. Archer had given him so much, he could not ask for more.
Stopping where the staircase divided, he turned up the gas on the picture light. It threw down a yellowish glow on the hunting scene. The late viscount straddling his horse in a red coat, a pack of hounds at his feet, the hunt to the side and further back, the servants he was to meet tomorrow. Larkspur Hall, a house beyond his imagination, stood against the wild, grey moors with the troubled sea beyond, but not even the thought of being there, once again a stranger in a strange world, was the cause of his unrest. The problem lay closer to home, and it lay with Archer.
He had said virtually nothing about Fecker. It was the absence of his friend that left Silas incomplete, and that was enhanced by Archer’s reticence to talk about him. He avoided the question, too busy tying up his loose ends, or packing, distracted by letters and messages to be sent, those received, and the work that Norwood was to oversee in his absence. Even when they were alone in Archer’s bed, where his lover attended to him with soft hands and gentle words, he would not be drawn on the subject.
‘Some things,’ Archer had said, ‘I would rather leave until will reach the country. As Culver would say, Tempus Omnia Revelat. Time reveals all.’
Silas had pressed him, but Archer had been adamant, and because Silas owed him so much, he let the matter drop.
Perhaps he still wasn’t ready to trust without question. Would that be the cause of the dark foreboding swamping his security?
He walked the empty corridor to his room and was standing in it, trying to raise his spirits and gather enthusiasm for Archer’s sake, when he heard the front door slam. The sound was followed by feet pounding on the stairs, and a second later, Archer swung into the room.
‘Hell, it’s dark in here,’ he exclaimed. ‘Come here. No, stay there.’
Before Silas could react, Archer had crossed the room, lifted him and dropped him on the bed. Beaming, he leapt up after Silas and knelt straddling him. Mischief danced in his eyes, and he had a smile that would not be repressed. He held Silas’ face with hands of ice and kissed him.
‘I missed you,’ he said.
‘You’ve only been gone a couple of hours.’
‘Too long, too long.’
He kissed Silas again, harder.
‘Ow,’ Silas complained. ‘That still hurts.’
‘It’ll feel better when you hear my news,’ Archer said.
Backing from the bed, he landed in an ungainly heap on the floor like a clown, righted himself and took Silas’ hand.
‘It’s as cold as my father’s embrace in here,’ he said. ‘Downstairs. Is the fire lit in the study? Come on, I have news.’
Archer lit the lamps as they descended, and they went some way to warm the house as the viscount’s enthusiasm went some way to warming Silas’ mood. Perhaps time was about to reveal all, and he was to be rewarded for his patience with news of Fecker.
The study was tidy, an unusual sight, but Archer’s gold and black smoking jacket hung from the back of a chair as it always did, and he put it on while Silas poked the fire and added another log.
‘What is it?’ he asked when Archer hadn’t spoken.
‘Nearly there.’ He was busy pouring drinks, large ones at that. ‘I’d have preferred Champagne,’ he said, flopping into the chair opposite Silas. ‘No, come and sit on my lap.’
‘I ain’t a dog.’
‘Sorry.’
Silas sat in his lap anyway, he would never get enough of holding the man. ‘Go on,’ he said, as cheerfully as he could. ‘What have you got to tell me?’
Archer giggled like a schoolgirl, swigged his drink and put down the glass. ‘First,’ he said. ‘I’ve just left Inspector Adelaide fuming like a locomotive. Oh, Silas, you should have seen his face!’
Archer laughter was contagious.
‘What?’
‘I gave him some news which rather blew his boiler,’ the viscount said. ‘That was after a quick meeting with Creswell who sends his regards, by the way. Asked me to tell you that you were the best non-speaking case he has ever dealt with. He wishes they all stayed silent and let him get on with things.’
‘It was Jimmy what told me to keep my mouth shut.’
‘And you did because you trust him?’
‘Right.’
‘A man you have known for what? Two months?’
‘A lot has happened in two months,’ Silas said. ‘Besides, you trust him, don’t you?’
For some reason, Archer glanced at the bottom shelves of a bookcase and grinned. ‘I knew I could from tha
t day I gave him Thomas’ annual wage to pay for your ring,’ he said. He took Silas’ hand and kissed it. ‘I hate to think what Tom would have said if he’d run off with the money or allowed himself to be mugged. Anyway, that’s not the point. I saw Creswell, and Jimmy’s right. The man is as daft as a brush but knows his stuff. Got a few things sorted out there, and then I popped over to see Adelaide.’ He drew a breath, stared ahead and then, out of the blue, asked, ‘Do you think he minds having a woman’s name?’
‘I don’t fecking know, Archie. Get on with it.’
‘Sorry, lover.’ Archer delivered another kiss.
‘Ow.’
‘Oops. So, to Inspector Abigale, as I called him when I walked into his office.’
‘You didn’t.’
‘I did. He was a bit red at that but soon turned white when I told him why I was there.’
Archer reached for his drink and took another glug.
‘To wish him a happy Christmas?’
‘Christmas doesn’t start until tomorrow. No,’ Archer said, putting down his glass. ‘I made him an offer he was unable to comprehend.’
‘You ain’t been bribing the rozzers have you?’
‘Certainly not!’ Archer slapped Silas’ thigh. ‘Not exactly. No, it’s about that list of names, the one Quill’s brother sent him before the opera house fiasco. It was sent for protection, that’s my guess, but it’s not important. Adelaide wants it. I have it. It’s in the safe.’
‘This, I know.’
‘Of course. I told him he couldn’t have it until it was needed.’
‘Can’t he force you to hand it over?’
‘Creswell says he can, but not without good reason. Tomorrow, however, he will have good reason, and I have said I’ll drop it off on the way to the station.’
‘You’re going too fast.’
Archer was unable to control his grin as he looked at the time. ‘About now,’ he said. ‘A couple of… rozzers will be knocking on the door of number nineteen Cleaver Street with a warrant to search the place and arrest Mr or Mrs Danvers, depending on what he is dressed as when they call. I do hope he’s in his finest crinoline. Thanks to Tripp’s zealous incompetence Adelaide is going to run them in, especially the man behind the whole charade.’
‘Danvers?’
‘Tripp,’ Archer said. ‘It seems he realised that coming after me was the wrong way to go. A toff in court can get away with it, strings pulled, bribes exchanged. But, an… No disrespect… An ordinary man such as yourself doesn’t stand a chance. Tripp’s reasoning was that if he pulled you down, I would come tumbling after, and even if I got away with further investigation, I would still lose you.’
Silas grinned. ‘Never going to happen.’
‘Quite. So… I told Adelaide about Tripp bribing James for information, and he let slip that they had been watching Cleaver Street for a while. As had Tripp. Apparently, he’d been seen going in and out several times.’ Archer looked away, picturing something else. ‘Who’d have thought Tripp of all people?’ He shuddered. ‘Makes me fear for the hall boys.’ Turning back to Silas, he said, ‘Anyway, the point is, without the evidence in the safe, the police are on a sticky wicket.’
‘And, as usual, you’re doing the right thing by giving it away.’
‘No. It’s costing him a small fortune. Well, not him, the police force or the Home Office. Either way, it will be interesting to see how Home Secretary Matthews explains it away, particularly with his name being on the list.’
‘How come?’
‘Again, this idea came from your man, Jimmy, and was backed up by his best pal, Creswell.’ Archer touched Silas’ cheek where the bruising was faintest. ‘The conversation went something like this.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Of course, you can have the list, Anabelle, I said.’
Silas slapped his chest.
‘I was so overjoyed,’ was Archer’s excuse. ‘Anyway, I said, Of course, you can have the list, it is my civic duty to hand it over. However, it would be such a shame if I returned home and found it missing. “I hope you don’t do that, Sir,” he said.’ Archer put on an accent that was meant to be the police inspector, but sounded like a country bumpkin. ‘I am sure I won’t, Inspector Annalee, I said. — He was getting a bit annoyed by then, but who cares? I said, As long as you have reached an agreement with Mr Hawkins on his compensation for the injuries you caused.’
‘You never did!’
‘I was copying what Creswell told me to say. “Compensation?” the inspector said. As the judge ruled, I pointed out, but, Alice… “I wish you would get my name right, Sir.” So sorry, Annie. — I was flying at this point. — So sorry, Inspector. I knew I couldn’t push him, and I’d had my sport. Anyway, to cut a long story short…’
‘Bit late for that, mate.’
‘I made him settle there and then, out of court as they say. I told him to send the money to Creswell who will deposit in your bank, probably not until the New Year, but it’s signed, sealed and on its way to being delivered. The costs of the so called case will be borne by the Crown.’
Archer looked at him, expecting Silas to ask how much.
‘So, you got Tripp, Danvers and a pay-out for me? Nice.’
‘Aren’t you thrilled?’
‘Archie,’ Silas said, turning and rearranging himself so that he sat facing Archer, one leg either side of his. He held his neck in both hands and fingered the fine hair at the back of his head. ‘You know money don’t mean anything to me long as I’ve got you.’
‘And I would happily live without my fortune as long as I have you,’ Archer replied. ‘Though I don’t know what would happen to the servants and everyone else.’
‘You old softie.’ It was not possible, Silas thought, for one person to love another more than he loved the handsome, childish, infuriating, caring man he sat on. ‘Go on then, how much is it?’
Archer bit his bottom lip. ‘I was a bit naughty,’ he said. ‘I used some of Culver’s negotiation tactics, some of Thomas’ outrage, and just enough of your cheek.’
‘And?’
Archer cleared his throat again and mumbled something towards the fireplace.
‘What?’
He turned back to Silas with a look of embarrassment and spoke as though he knew he had done wrong. ‘Er… Five hundred pounds?’
The world turned fast beneath Silas’ feet, and he felt dizzy. ‘Fuck off.’
‘I’d rather fuck you.’
‘No, I mean it. Fuck off.’
Archer was laughing.
‘For getting roughed up in the back of a paddy waggon?’ Silas was barely able to comprehend the sum. ‘I’ve had worse done to me.’
‘And you shall suffer such things no more. We will invest it, turn it into an income, and you will be entitled to call yourself a gentleman. Now then,’ Archer said, changing the subject. ‘We can talk about that in the morning, right now, I have something else for you.’
‘Uh, hu.’ Silas wasn’t listening. He was wondering how much of it he could give to Fecker, and whether there would be time to buy him a present before they left in the morning.
‘I have something for you,’ Archer repeated. ‘If you are interested.’
‘Yeah. For five hundred, I’m interested in anything. What is it?’
‘This.’
Archer placed Silas’ hand on his erection and twitched his eyebrows, leering.
‘Oh, great!’ Silas rolled his eye and pulled his hand away. ‘Remind me of my old job, why don’t you? I thought I was a gent now.’
‘Oh my God!’ Archer was shocked. ‘I didn’t think… I am such a clot.’
Silas backed off and stood, grinning. He wasn’t upset and had only pretended annoyance. Archer, after all, was the only man who had had sex with Silas free of
charge. Smiling salaciously, he took his lover’s hand and tugged him to his feet.
‘Show you a good time, Sir?’ he said in his street rat voice and swinging his hips. ‘Let you spend your seed in me for a shilling, I will.’
‘You guttersnipe,’ Archer smirked.
‘Oh, you love it, Sir. All you toffs do.’ He dragged him to the doors and into the next room. ‘Handsome gent ain’t you? All solid and manly. I’ll let you suck my pipe for a penny roll.’
‘Shush!’ Archer giggled. ‘Not in the drawing room.’
‘A lot of gents like it when I spend my seed in their mouth. Fancy some boy juice, Mister?’
‘That’s gross.’
Silas pushed him laughing onto the couch before he dropped to his knees between the viscount’s legs and unbuttoning his fly.
‘Not here! Someone might come in. Silas!’
‘Sorry, Mister.’ Silas tugged at Archer’s drawers. ‘Me name’s Billy, and I’m paid for. For that amount, you can fuck me all night, Sir.’
Archer tried to escape, but gave up when Silas lowered his head into his lap.
It didn’t quite last all night, but they were both bleary-eyed the next day when, having seen to the last of the arrangements, they boarded the train to Cornwall.
It was a slow journey, but travelling first class relieved some of the tedium. They ate and were waited on, sitting opposite each other hardly able to suppress their grins.
For Silas, it was still an act. Not the way he loved the man, but the way he covered his unease. Archer had said nothing about Fecker, but when they stopped on the way to the station so Silas could buy his friend a pair of leather driving gloves, Archer was uneasy. Saying nothing while Silas admired various pairs and asked his advice, he was distant, and his smile was half-hearted.
Fallen Splendour Page 31