The Counterfeit Viscount

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The Counterfeit Viscount Page 14

by Ginn Hale


  “I won the majority of the hands,” Agatha stated.

  “Certainly,” Nimble agreed. “But we could all see that dear lovestruck Archie didn’t have it in his heart to better you.” Oddly that won a hearty laugh from Agatha and Nurse Fuggas both.

  Then Nurse Fuggas raced up the stairs and returned with medical supplies from the infirmary. The six of them settled on the worn steps of the stairs with the green glow of Archie’s battered storm lamp lighting them. Nurse Fuggas saw to Charles and Agatha, while Archie washed Nimble’s hands and bandaged his knuckles. Then Agatha looked to the nurse’s scrapes and bruises. Phebe wore Charles’s coat to keep off the night winds.

  Somewhere in the midst of it all, Nimble reassured the Wedmoors and Nurse Fuggas that neither he nor Archie had any intention of exposing them or the Prodigals whom they ferried away to greater freedom. It also became abundantly clear that Phebe was Charles’s child, the daughter he’d been parted from during the war. He spoke haltingly of his despair after he’d lost her and her mother in a prison camp and of how he and Agatha had searched for years afterward.

  “This entire pretense of a club was first conceived of as a sanctuary for Phebe, though it grew into much more.” Agatha made an attempt to smooth her wild hair from her face. Then she gingerly dabbed some balm over the ugly bruise already darkening Nurse Fuggas’s cheek. Archie wondered how she would explain it away and then remembered that the nurse had ready access to stage makeup, as well as the latest fashion of veiled hats to fall back on.

  Charles injuries would be chalked up to his boxing club.

  “Those of us on her mother’s side were searching for Phebe as well. That’s how Agatha and I found each other.” Nurse Fuggas and Agatha gazed at each other briefly, but with such tender affection that an altogether new aspect of their relationship suddenly occurred to Archie.

  Well…. No wonder the two of them had received his pretense of courting so very coldly.

  For just a moment, he pondered what, if anything, the two of them might have perceived in the way he and Nimble stood together and how they exchanged familiar smiles.

  “Somehow Silas found out. He got to her before any of us.” Charles glanced at Phebe, and she studied him in return. They were not close, that was obvious. But a hopefulness showed in both their expressions. They wanted to care for each other and to be loved in return. That was a start, Archie supposed.

  “At first all he wanted from me was my money. I was happy to pay him anything to have my daughter back with me,” Charles said. “But as he spent more time in the club, he came to suspect that he could threaten far worse than the ruin of my reputation. He began to demand more and more. Until I feared that I was losing myself utterly to his wishes. His requirements became unbearable.”

  “Like having someone take a shot at me?” Archie inquired without any real feeling of betrayal. What sort of father wouldn’t have sacrificed a veritable stranger’s life for that of his daughter?

  “I was meant to do more than that. He’d ordered me to get you on your own in the north side of the city where his men could murder you and pass it off as a mugging.” Charles looked wretched. “But then you didn’t want to go gaming and Mr. Hobbs couldn’t be convinced to leave your side.”

  “So what, then? You shot at us out the club window as a sign of good faith to Silas?” Nimble sounded as skeptical as Archie on that count. Charles couldn’t have seen them through the gloom, and he’d been on entirely the wrong story of the building.

  “Of course he didn’t.” Nurse Fuggas replied crisply. “Anyway the shots were meant to be a warning. To scare you away from the club and keep you both out of Silas’s horrid grasp. No one would have been hurt if you, Mr. Hobbs, hadn’t thrown yourself out to shield Lord Granville, here. I hadn’t expected that.”

  “It was only a scratch,” Nimble assured her with a shrug. Then he turned a smug smile in Archie’s direction. “Told you it was Fuggas who fired on us.”

  “As I recall, you also thought she was trying to shoot you, not me,” Archie responded.

  Nimble shrugged again as if that was a minor detail. Moths fluttering in the glow of the storm lamp cast odd shadows across the dock. Archie could see Agatha considering him and Nimble.

  “So what is it that you actually do, Mr. Hobbs?” Agatha asked at last.

  Nimble produced his card—albeit a rather damp one—and offered a sanitized version of the events that had brought him to the Dee Club. He cast Archie as a mere army acquaintance with a soft heart and too much time on his hands, and himself as a fellow more accustomed to locating lost cats and love letters than a man who readily faced down gunmen with just his fists.

  “So, Thom hired you? And he’s well? Thank God for that.” Agatha sounded truly relieved. “When he disappeared, I was quite worried that Silas had snatched him up. I tried to locate him myself, but I don’t have too many contacts in certain quarters of Hells Below.”

  “You asked the reverend to look for him.” Nimble sounded certain of it.

  Agatha nodded. “I’ll do what I can to see that he receives a letter from Nancy. She is quite fond of him.”

  They all quieted as a red rowboat neared the dock. Recognition lit the face of the silver-haired woman at the prow as she caught sight of Agatha and Nurse Fuggas. The strapping young man at the oars slowed his stroke. Archie, being both uninjured and more than eight years old, rose and assisted in mooring the boat. Then he stepped aside as Agatha and Nurse Fuggas said tearful goodbyes to Phebe. Charles begged her to write him, and she agreed.

  Agatha assured her that her Nornian great-aunt would adore her and had already made a place for her in her home. “You’ll be free to walk through the meadow and visit any city you like, my darling.” Agatha gave her a last embrace and helped her into the rowboat.

  Then to Archie’s surprise, Agatha turned to Nimble.

  “Mr. Pugg mentioned that you hoped to one day escape the city,” Agatha said. “After all you’ve done for us, I would love to help you. If not right this moment, then whenever you’re ready.”

  Nimble looked startled and then so hopeful that it made Archie’s heart ache. He didn’t want Nimble to go and yet he knew that Nimble deserved the freedom to wander where he wanted. To walk under open skies and visit all the wonders of the world.

  “Thank you,” Nimble replied after a moment. “But as much as I’d love to go, well, I’m afraid my heart is still here.”

  Epilogue: Leave-Taking

  Archie remained a member of the Dee Club but didn’t attend regularly any longer. He still saw Charles, Neet, and Lupton, but not so often, in part because they each moved on in their own interests. Charles largely abandoned boxing in favor of painting, Neet met a young woman who appeared to appreciate his interest in her and his taste in poetry, and Lupton spent more and more time with his brandy.

  For a month, Archie kept clear of Agatha, but when an overbearing young earl began courting her too enthusiastically, Archie once again stepped into the role of her most ardent admirer. He made himself a stumbling block to the earl’s pursuit, and with Nurse Fuggas’s aid, he contrived to frustrate the man into eloping with a saucy widow. While foiling the earl’s various romantic overtures, Archie discovered that Agatha did in fact possess a wonderful sense of humor. They got on rather well and soon grew used to sharing company and shielding each other from matchmakers and gossipmongers alike.

  Of course, the Inquisition did come in search of Silas. Happily, Nurse Fuggas was able to warn Nimble away from Archie for the many months that the investigation dragged on. Inquisitors in their deathly black uniforms rifled through Archie’s papers and shot him hard, cold glares as they pointed out that he did not seem unduly troubled by his uncle’s prolonged absence. He acknowledged that he and his uncle were not close. He neither knew nor cared where the old goat had gone off to.

  “Would it bother you to learn he was dead, then?” the Inquisition captain asked.

  “Of course it would,” Archie r
eplied. “I look terrible in mourning colors. And in addition to that, I’d find myself saddled with his monstrous debts.”

  The captain looked annoyed but thoughtful as well and then angled his further inquiries in the direction of Silas’s finances. Archie provided the names of moneylenders and gaming houses. After an hour of getting nothing more from Archie or his townhouse, the Inquisitors withdrew, though the captain assured Archie that he would hear from them again.

  Archie pretended to find it all rather amusing and suggested they meet at the captain’s residence next time. In reality the encounter filled him with a dread that didn’t lift for days. Archie missed Nimble and longed to chat with him, but so long as he knew that the Inquisition watched him, Archie didn’t dare lead them anywhere near Nimble.

  Instead Archie kept himself occupied at Lords’ court in the day and at the card tables most evenings. In both domains he conspired to win votes for the repeal movement. He ensured that gentlemen who had fallen into debt to him developed a sudden, passionate support for his cause. Agatha championed it as well and even managed to win the Queen’s public endorsement.

  As weeks passed into months, visits from Inquisitors grew rare. The captain took on a weary appearance, which Archie found reassuring. One Inquisitor admitted to Archie that the captain’s exhaustion didn’t stem from too few leads to chase down but far too many.

  Over half a century, Silas had managed to make so very many enemies that Archie soon became only one of a multitude of suspects. (In fact, Archie was a rare individual who actually had something to lose by Silas’s demise.) There were veritable generations of women whom Silas had conned and jilted, illegitimate children he’d abandoned, and numerous men he’d swindled. Rumors circulated that he’d stooped to blackmailing his fellow peers on more than one occasion. Silas’s creditors numbered into the dozens and included the infamous Bastard Jack.

  Summer passed and leaves began to change color. The dour Inquisition captain called on Archie to inform him that they now suspected that his uncle had fled the country of his own volition. Interviews with a boy called Thom Chax had revealed Silas’s numerous inquiries about smuggling people in and out of the country. The entire case was dropped.

  Two rainy days later, Archie and his fellow lords cast their votes and at last overturned the Prodigal Restriction Codes. Fireworks lit the night skies and illuminated the crowds of people dancing in the streets. Inquisitors half-heartedly attempted to suppress the week-long celebrations by posting bans and issuing two-penny fines. The crowds were too numerous and too jubilant to be curbed. And the fact was that even natural citizens enjoyed the outpouring of song and revelry.

  Archie half-expected Hells Below to empty out in a matter of days, but the exodus proved much more slow. Many families had lived there for generations and desired no other homes, only the right to do business and vacation elsewhere. But the young and the adventurous steadily departed.

  It didn’t surprise Archie, though it did shake him a little, when Nimble called upon him, carrying a suitcase and dressed for the road—plain brown coat, boots, and all. Even so, Archie’s sedate drawing room and refined furnishings seemed too small and too dull to confine him. A bright blue feather adorned the green satin band of his hat, and turquoise satin flashed from his waistcoat.

  “All set to take on the world?” Archie asked.

  “Well, there are a few corners I wouldn’t mind having a go at,” Nimble replied. He cocked his head and studied Archie as if expecting him make some sudden realization. But what was there to wonder at? Nimble had always longed to leave; now he could go as he pleased. Archie only hoped he would come back.

  “Your girl didn’t tell you?” Nimble asked.

  “Agatha, you mean? What should she have told me?” Archie asked.

  “Well, there’s this friend of hers living out on some sprawling country estate. A very charming fellow, or so she says.” Nimble grinned. “And it seems he’s got himself something of an intractable problem. If you take my meaning.”

  Archie remembered then that Agatha had taken Nimble’s card.

  So, Nimble had been hired. Archie wondered about the nature of the trouble that it merited Nimble’s intervention. What would Nimble find himself up against on that country estate? A family curse? Bandits? Blackmail? Or perhaps something altogether more mysterious.

  Archie frowned. “I’m not sure how I feel about you being out in the wilds with no one to have your back, old boot.”

  “Now you see, I’m of much the same mind about that, my bantling,” Nimble replied. “And then I recalled that we did make a good sort of team. So I thought I ought to drop by and ask you how quick you could get your bags packed.”

  Delight surged through Archie. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.”

  “I’ll give you ten if you pack more than a cloak and those ugly old army boots.”

  About the Author

  Ginn Hale lives with her lovely wife in the Pacific Northwest. She spends the many cloudy days observing plants and fungi. She whiles away the rainy evenings writing fantasy and science-fiction featuring queer protagonists. Her first novel, Wicked Gentlemen, won the Spectrum Award for best novel. She is also a Lambda Literary Award finalist and Rainbow Award winner.

  Her most recent publications include the Lord of the White Hell, Champion of the Scarlet Wolf, and Master of Restless Shadows.

  She can be reached through her website: www.ginnhale.com

  Also on Facebook and Twitter. Her Instagram account, however, is largely a collection of botanical photos...so, be warned.

  Also by Ginn Hale

  Wicked Gentlemen

  Lord of the White Hell Book One

  Lord of the White Hell Book Two

  Champion of the Scarlet Wolf Book One

  Champion of the Scarlet Wolf Book Two

  Master of Restless Shadows Book One

  The Long Past and Other Stories

  The Shattered Gates

  The Holy Road

  His Sacred Bones

  Feral Machines—Tangle (Anthology)

  Touching Sparks—Hell Cop (Anthology)

  Such Heights— Hell Cop Two (Anthology)

  Things Unseen and Deadly—Irregulars (Anthology)

  Swift and the Black Dog—Charmed and Dangerous (Anthology)

  Seed Stitch Solution—Once Upon A Fact (Anthology)

  Treasured Island—Scourges of the Seas of Time (and Space) (Anthology)

 

 

 


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