Released

by Adella J. Harris

  Randall wasn’t going to be so easily convinced. “What else could go wrong? Now there’s a tramp coming over the hill. You’re the magistrate; go get rid of him.”

  Lionel wanted to tell Randall it was most likely not a tramp, but a farmer with a perfectly good reason to be there, and even if Randall was right, so long as the tramp wasn’t causing trouble, there was no reason for him to be moved along. But again, that would mean less time to talk to Robert before the food was handed around and he was expected to play host.

  Lionel turned to get a look at the person. Perhaps they could be convinced to leave quietly. He’d offer them some of Mrs. O’Brien’s lunch as a bribe. That and the ability to avoid Randall should persuade them. He moved to try and catch the newcomer’s attention and froze. He would recognize that form anywhere. Somehow, Jim was coming through the trees, looking like he wanted to spy on the group. He didn’t seem to know Lionel was there. Lionel knew he had to catch Jim before he realized it and ran. That would never do, not now that he’d found him. So he’d have to find a way to prevent it. He made certain at least some of the party was looking in his direction then waved cheerfully, calling out, “Jim? Hallo!” as if it wasn’t a shock to see him there. He would get Jim into the group and find a way to convince him to join them at the house. Randall would just have to be content with that. Otherwise, he’d tell the group what Jim actually did for a living, and that would make the party more interesting at least.

  Jim wandered through the woods and tried not to think about Lionel. He was trying so hard to avoid thoughts of him that his wandering brought him to the very spot Lionel had been planning to show him the day he’d seen Murdoc with his broken-down cart. It was a pretty view, and Jim was tempted to go and get a better look at it, until he realized the lawn was filling up with people who’d come from the direction of Hensley House. He didn’t see Lionel, so it seemed safe enough to creep a little closer. He was curious what sort of people Lionel invited to his home. He was certain they were nothing like Dixon’s guests. He’d made it to the edge of the trees when he heard the familiar voice.

  “Jim? Hallo!”

  Jim froze. He tensed to run, but Lionel had seen him. Not only seen him, but was coming towards him, smiling like he was an old friend. He still could have run, only there were other people there. People sitting on the grass behind Lionel, looking in their direction. He couldn’t run from Lionel, not with all those people watching and wondering. “Hello.”

  “What’s taking so long? Is he giving you trouble?” Jim saw a man who bore a resemblance to Lionel, or to what Lionel would look like if he had given himself over to drink, come up the slope towards them.

  Lionel had reached him by then. He ignored the man, who Jim assumed was Randall, and rested his hand on Jim’s arm, trying to steer him towards the group. “He’s a friend from London, Randall.” Lionel turned back to Jim. “If I’d known you’d be in the area, I’d have invited you along.”

  “Introduce us to your friend,” a man in a suit that cost more than Jim had ever had at one time save for the brief period between Dixon and Quincy called as he sat on the damp grass, probably ruining his coat.

  Lionel put an arm around Jim and brought him to the group of people. Jim was acutely aware of the threadbare clothes, the stains on his shirt, and especially the marks from the paddle under his clothes.

  Lionel was smiling. “This is Jim Smith, a friend from London. I didn’t know he was here, or I’d have invited him along to begin with.”

  Jim picked at a hole in his sleeve then shoved his hands behind his back as if they wouldn’t notice.

  “He’s a naturalist,” Lionel went on cheerfully, although Jim realized he was looking at the sleeve too.

  “Then you’d better sit down,” the man in the fine coat said. “Every naturalist I know becomes ravenous tramping around the woods. Try the sandwiches. The ham is particularly nice.”

  Jim hesitated, but Lionel pulled him along and all but forced him to sit by the plate of sandwiches. They smelled so good, Jim barely needed persuading to take one, then another.

  A man in a dark suit leaned over. “A naturalist? We’ve been looking for someone to teach a class at the school...”

  “I...I couldn’t.” He realized Lionel’s friends thought he was one of them. If they knew...

  Lionel cheerfully said, “He’s self-taught. No degree, I’m afraid.”

  The man looked disappointed. “The parents wouldn’t go for that. But if you’re ever in Surrey and could do a nature walk or two, we’d certainly appreciate it.”

  Jim swallowed. He couldn’t let them know what he really was.

  Lionel didn’t hesitate. “He has a boring job in London during the week. I’m surprised you got away at all.”

  “They had a special project they wanted me to handle in the area.” It was almost the truth.

  That led to several of the men discussing some business venture in the area. Jim ignored them and tried to think of a way to slip back into the trees and make for Dixon’s. He’d known this was a mistake, and it was seeming more like one every minute he was there. Perhaps once everyone became engaged in the business discussion... He glanced at the faces. Most seemed to be ignoring him, except for the man in the expensive coat. He was watching Jim even more closely than Lionel was, and there was something vaguely familiar about him. Probably someone from Madame Rosamond’s. And if that was the case, he needed to get away before the man recognized him. He must think Jim looked familiar and was probably trying to place where he’d seen him before. He had to get away before the man said anything and embarrassed Lionel in front of all these people.

  The man gave Jim the smallest hint of a smile and said, “Lionel, why don’t you ask your friend about that?”

  “What?” It was clear to Jim Lionel had no idea what his friend was talking about, but he recovered quickly. “Oh, behind the cart. Yes, Jim, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  Jim couldn’t very well refuse, not unless he wanted to claim he was interested in the business conversation, which would mean they would expect him to join in. He rose when Lionel did and followed him towards the trees. He heard the man who’d suggested it say something about poisonous snakes, which stopped everyone’s questions at once.

  Lionel had known Robert would be the one to ask about Jim, but he hadn’t realized how helpful he would be. He certainly hadn’t expected Jim to turn up on the edge of the estate, but Robert had helped cover his appearance at once, and had even arranged a way for him to speak to Jim alone. It wasn’t the ideal circumstances to tell Jim he loved him, but waiting for the ideal time would only give Jim time to leave again.

  Jim seemed to be trying to leave already. He wasn’t walking towards the carts but deeper into the trees. Lionel followed. Eventually, Jim would realize they had to talk. He kept watching Jim. Once the initial pleasure at seeing him had worn off, he was able to look carefully at his state. Jim was wearing worn, faded clothes. While the rest of the party had accepted the story that that was what someone who was studying plants or whatever they thought he was looking at wore, they were definitely in worse shape than what he’d been wearing when Lionel first met him. Did that mean his financial state was worse than Lionel had feared? And now that he was watching, he noticed that Jim was moving with a little more care than he remembered, as if he were sore. Lionel had been worried about Jim from the moment he’d realized he’d run away, but he’d thought most of it was just baseless worry. Now he was wishing he’d told Randall to sort out his own house party and left for London at once.

  Jim finally slowed down when they were well inside the trees. Good. They would have some sort of privacy. Enough for him to tell Jim he loved him and wanted him to stay.

  Jim didn’t turn to face him, even when Lionel came to stand very close to him. He reached out to touch Jim’s shoulder.

  Jim stepped away from him. “There’s no point to following me, Lionel. I need to get back.”

  Back where, Lionel wante
d to know, but he wasn’t about to ask. Jim could have as many secrets as he wanted if only he’d stay long enough to hear that Lionel loved him. “Wait, Jim. I need to speak with you.”

  “I’m sorry, Lionel. I shouldn’t have come.”

  “But it’s...”

  But Jim had already disappeared into the trees, running wherever it was he was trying to get back to. Lionel started to give chase but quickly lost any trace of a path to follow. He’d been so close to getting Jim back. He wanted to search the woods, but he had no idea where to start looking. And now that Robert had seen Jim, he would be even more help to Lionel.

  Jim ran into the woods and kept running, trying to put as much distance between him and Lionel as he could. He didn’t stop until he was out of breath then leaned against a tree and panted, straining to hear any sound of pursuit. He’d known he should stay away from Lionel, known nothing good would come of going anywhere near Hensley House, but the chance to see Lionel had been too strong a draw. And he’d been right. Now Lionel knew he was in the area; it wouldn’t take long for him to figure out where. And his friends had seen him. The one in the expensive coat had most likely recognized him. He had to get away before anything else went wrong. At least none of Lionel’s friends would be going to Beckwood Hall. At least he hoped they wouldn’t. Lionel ought to be safe enough once Jim got there. Jim got his bearings and set off in what he thought was the direction of Dixon’s party.

  Balford was waiting for Jim in the yard when he returned. “Running away?”

  “I had permission to be out. It’s in my contract.”

  “Lordship was looking for you. He won’t be pleased.”

  Jim swore to himself. He’d spent too long with Lionel and too long running away from him. He was sure to lose his clothes for the remainder of the party. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. Now that he knew where Lionel was, it was too tempting to go out and see him, if only from a distance. If Dixon took his clothes, he wouldn’t have to rely on his own self-control, which seemed to be lacking where Lionel was concerned.

  When Lionel got back to the group, Robert didn’t ask anything about Jim, only a rather incongruous “So was it a poisonous snake?”

  From the looks the other guests gave him, Lionel knew he was supposed to answer, “No, perfectly harmless,” although he was tempted to see what happened if he’d said it was deadly and the house was likely to be overrun within hours. But he didn’t, partly because it would have taken too long to stop fighting with Randall about the resulting chaos, and the group went back to their gossiping and matchmaking, leaving Lionel plenty of time to wonder what Jim was doing in Lincoln-on-Marsh in the first place.

  Lionel didn’t have a chance to ask Robert’s thoughts on the matter until after dinner, when he snuck into the study and found Robert waiting for him in the best armchair, the one that he thought of as Jim’s, with a glass of Scotch and a second waiting for Lionel on the table. “Was that him?”

  Lionel knew at once who he was talking about. “It was. Did you recognize him?”

  Robert nodded. “He used to work for Rosamond, but I haven’t seen him there in more than two years. And he always gave the name Jim, although no last name, not that any of them do. Did you speak to him? Do you know where he went?”

  “No. He ran as soon I tried to talk to him.”

  “Then he’s here, not in London.”

  “It would appear so.”

  “Then it seems you won’t need my help finding him in London.”

  Lionel sank down into the other chair. “I suppose not.”

  Robert leaned over and patted him on the arm. “If it’s any consolation, I do think he’d like to see you. You have to realize what he’s been doing for who knows how many years...”

  “I’ve told him I don’t care, and I don’t. His family had no money. He didn’t have many choices. I understand that. I won’t be his first. I don’t care as long as I’m his last.”

  “A bit maudlin, but I’m not the one you need to tell, although perhaps you could think of something slightly less cliché when you do.”

  “I’d tell him if he’d stay still long enough for me to get the words out.”

  Robert smiled at that. “Well, it’s gotten you out of Dixon’s party, anyway.”

  “What?”

  “If I’m not helping you find your missing lover, then you don’t need to come with me. I know you don’t want to.”

  Lionel felt a spark of relief, which was quickly followed by a spark of guilt. Hadn’t he just decided to stop doing whatever anyone asked him to? But Lionel knew Robert had wanted him to come. And Robert was a good friend. He wasn’t going to abandon him just because he wasn’t useful at the moment. And there was something else, something nagging at the back of his mind, if he could just catch a glimpse of it. Or maybe it was the sort of thing you had to look away from to see it. But it definitely felt like there was some clue with Robert. “No, no. I said I’d come. We just won’t stay long. And I might still need you to look for him in London. Consider this a favor on account.”

  “If you’re certain. We’ll just stay long enough for me to see the centerpiece and make certain everything is all right, then I’ll say you look ill and take you away.”

  “And if anyone notices how I look?”

  “I know you. You’ll look ill.”

  Lionel was going to protest, but he knew Robert was probably right. “When should we go?”

  “Are you busy at the moment?”

  “So I can get a favor from you on account and get out of talking to Randall’s guests at the same time? I’ll go dress immediately. What should I wear?”

  “What you have on now is fine. The question is how to get some sort of conveyance without the servants questioning it, unless you want to walk there.”

  “Not at night. It’s much too dark. I’ll tell Garrett we’re sneaking off to avoid Randall. He won’t ask questions, especially not with the amount of work they have with all these guests. If you’d slip out and get our overcoats, we can leave through the window if you like.” He wasn’t particularly surprised when Robert agreed to it.

  Chapter 18

  ***

  THE TRIP TO BECKWOOD HALL WAS UNEVENTFUL, although they needed to take the long way round as the path near the ha-ha connecting the two estates was too overgrown for even their small cart. Robert tied the horse to a tree halfway down the drive and told Lionel they would walk the rest of the way. Seeing Lionel’s expression, he smiled and explained, “Dixon’s servants will take the horse to the stables if we leave it at the entrance, and I don’t want to wait for Balford to rehitch him when we’re ready to leave. He can be—difficult.”

  The front of the house looked deserted, and Lionel wondered if Robert had mistaken the date. But then he realized there were several gigs and carts left about without their horses and remembered what Robert had said about the servants. Robert was already leading the way to the front door, which was opened almost at once by a severe-looking butler. It took Lionel a moment to recognize him as the man he’d stopped to help on the road, the one who had bothered Jim. If he recognized Lionel, he didn’t show any sign of it. He did seem to recognize Robert, as he stepped aside and let them enter at once.

  They went through a stone foyer and into what seemed to be a study but had been opened out into the adjoining rooms to make it the size of a small ballroom. Lionel looked around. The place was done up in the tawdry imitation of a grand house that he had seen in the few brothels Robert had dragged him to. The men milling around were dressed in the clothes they’d wear for a house party but in various stages of dishevelment—a few even had the fall of their breeches open and hanging down.

  “What do you think?” Robert whispered.

  “Looks like a brothel, but no prostitutes.”

  “The centerpiece will be in the main room.”

  “One for all these guests?”

  Robert nodded.

  “Gracious.” Lionel had wondered how Jim had managed tw
o or three men in a night, as he was sure he had in the brothels, but this whole room. Perhaps Jim was right, and he was hopelessly naive. He understood why Jim hadn’t joked about Dixon as a neighbor; he must have heard more about these parties than Lionel and understood what the poor fellow entertaining at them had to put up with.

  Robert touched his arm and led him towards a drinks table. “The magistrate would have a field day if he came here. Who is it in the area, by the way? You said Perkins, I think?”

  That snapped Lionel out of his thoughts. “Me, actually.”

  “You?” Robert hissed. “Still? You should have told me. I’d never have brought you if I’d known you were still acting magistrate. Why? I thought it was only for a few days.”

  “His mother took another turn.”

  “That woman takes more turns than a bloody dancer. Oh well, it can’t be helped. It’s dark in here, and most of these people are from town; they won’t know local politics. And we’ll leave quickly.” Robert scanned the room. “There’s Yardston. He’ll know what’s going on.” Robert grabbed his arm and dragged him across the room. “Evening, Yardston.”

  “Farnsdale, didn’t know you were coming.”

  “Last-minute idea. My friend here didn’t believe me about the goings on.”

  Lionel tried to figure out where to look. Yardston had his breeches open and didn’t seem to care who was looking. Lionel pretended interest in the carpet.

  “Seen the new centerpiece yet?”

  “No, have you?”

  “Scrawny thing, but tough. Takes a flogging well. Good mouth. Can’t wait to try it again. Farhill said the arse is good too, but can’t compare with old Regina, eh? Don’t understand why he doesn’t invite her to these parties.”

  Lionel stared harder at the floor. How could the man talk about some poor fellow so coldly? Had people spoken about Jim like that? His precious Jim, who had been so surprised when Lionel had wanted to see that he enjoyed himself. He was probably the first to do that. He felt Robert bump his foot. Some of what he was thinking must have shown on his face.