‘This is my cousin,’ Leo said. ‘Severn.’
The man’s face changed. He bowed the Duke in with grovelling servility, and took his hat and stick, while movement and whispers up ahead indicated that the news of his arrival was spreading.
He considered the place as he walked in with Leo, ignoring the fuss. He had every intention of broadening his horizons and his circles – he had enjoyed those nights of companionship and stories at the Green Lion in Coventry more than he would have thought possible – but he wouldn’t have cared to include this place even if Daizell had wanted to frequent a gambling den. It had a sordid, aggressive feel to it, the faces around him greedy and needy, and he was fairlycertain that was informed judgement on his part rather than fear born of inexperience.
He walked through the groups of men, stopping to acknowledge some few acquaintances most of whom he disliked, and turning off remarks about his unexpected appearance and offers of play with a polite, faint smile, until they found Sir James Vier.
Sir James was a man aged about fifty, very well dressed in the plain style, with a lean, distinguished sort of look and thin lips set in a polite, faint smile of his own. Cassian made a mental note that polite, faint smiles were actually quite dislikeable, and therefore kept his own firmly in place.
‘Sir James,’ he said.
‘Ah, Your Grace.’ Sir James gave a little bow. ‘Good evening. I trust you are keeping well? I had the honour of meeting your cousin earlier today.’
‘That is why I am here,’ the Duke said, his voice pitched a little louder than was his wont. He was normally soft-spoken to a fault, but people were listening and he wanted them to hear. ‘I understand he offered you my greys in lieu of vowels you hold, to the tune of a thousand pounds.’
Sir James raised a brow. ‘Yourgreys? Mr Crosse assured me he had title to them.’
‘You’re selling your greys, Severn?’ asked a man named Mowbray who had been at Eton with him. ‘I wish you had mentioned it to me.’
‘I am not,’ the Duke said, keeping his eyes on Vier. ‘Leo had my greys off me by a wager, Sir James. I do not care to lose them. You will oblige me by taking my note of hand for the sum.’
‘You propose to buy your greys back from me?’ Sir JamesVier’s thin lips stretched. ‘But suppose I do not feel inclined to sell, Your Grace?’
‘My cousin acted precipitately.’ The Duke allowed his dislike to creep into his expression and voice. ‘There was no need for him to use my horses to settle his debts. I do not wish them to go into – another man’s ownership.’ He didn’t sayyours; he didn’t have to. Everyone would remember the incident when he had rebuked Sir James in Hyde Park for his savage hand with the whip, and been sent packing under the lash of the older man’s withering tongue.
Sir James certainly remembered, because his smile widened further. ‘Let me be sure I understand. Crosse informed me he had taken possession of the greys, and had every right to exchange them for his vowels. Was that the case?’
‘You will oblige me by not calling my cousin’s word into doubt,’ the Duke said tightly.
Sir James bowed. ‘In that case, my ownership is a matter of fact, Your Grace, whereas your wishes are – merely wishes.’ He puffed airily at his fingertips, as if blowing thistledown away. ‘The horses are mine now. You may offer to buy them from me, and I may refuse to sell. I look forward to having them delivered to my house at your, or your cousin’s, convenience.’
The Duke clenched his fists. They were at the centre of a group of listeners now; he could feel the interest and the amusement. ‘Sir James, the horses should not be in your ownership. You exchanged them merely for a debt—’
‘For your cousin’s note of hand. Surely that is as good as gold. Or do you mean to imply his vowels are worthless?’
‘I do not care to play games with you. I will pay you fifteen hundred pounds for my greys.’
Sir James locked eyes with him. ‘No,’ he said softly, tauntingly.
‘I do not haggle,’ the Duke snapped. ‘Name your price and have done.’
‘Sev,’ Leo said, sounding worried.
‘I said, name your price!’
‘I will not take a price,’ Sir James said. ‘I have a fancy to keep the greys.Mygreys.’
‘Mine, and I want them back!’ the Duke said, voice rising. ‘They should not have been offered to you, and agentlemanwould acknowledge that and act accordingly!’
Several people inhaled. Sir James’s face stiffened. ‘Your Grace is unjust,’ he said, a bite in the words. ‘I accepted the greys from Crosse as payment for a debt I am owed. You do not dispute the debt, nor Crosse’s ownership of the horses at the point he chose to exchange them with me. Therefore, they are mine. You cannot force me to sell them, any more than you can order me to sell you my house or my coat, or otherwise dictate what I, an Englishman with an Englishman’s rights and liberties, do with my property. You exceed your authority, sir.’
The Duke could feel he’d gone red, between anger, profound embarrassment, and the heat of the room. He was making himself a spectacle, brawling in this sordid gentleman’s hell, all but shouting demands he knew very well were utterly unreasonable. People would talk.
Which was exactly what they were supposed to do. They just needed to talk about the right thing.
‘What is this prating of rights?’ he demanded in a conversational dog-leg modelled on his uncle. ‘I am speaking ofhorses. I am offering to pay you twice the worth of a pair you haven’t even driven and I doubt are up to handling, andyour refusal smacks of nothing but spite. Or do you hope to push up the price like a costermonger?’
That landed with the audience, he could tell. So could Sir James, because he retorted, ‘On the contrary. I will not sell them at any price: I have a great fancy to drive them, and in this matter my fancy trumps yours. If you did not wish to lose your horses, Your Grace, you should not have wagered them.’
