Regency Buck (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 3)

The Earl shut his snuff-box. ‘No doubt y

ou are wise,’ he said. ‘He might – who knows? – take steps to put you out of the way, might he not? And I am afraid that even if you had the courage to divulge his name it would not be of very much use. It would be your word against his, Farnaby, and to be honest with you I hardly think yours would be heeded. You see, I have considered all that.’

‘No need!’ Farnaby said, glaring at him. ‘I’ve told you I shall divulge nothing!’

‘I am glad to find that you have such a wholesome regard for your skin,’ murmured Worth. ‘I hope that it may prompt you to keep away from Sir Peregrine in the future. I should go into the country for a while, if I were you. I have an odd notion that if anything were to happen to him while you were in town you might suffer for it.’

Farnaby forced out a laugh. ‘Very interesting, my lord, but I’m no believer in premonitions!’

‘Ah!’ said the Earl. ‘But that was more in the nature of a promise, Farnaby. One blunder may be forgiven; a second would prove fatal.’ He rose and picked up his gloves and cane. ‘That is all I wanted to say to you.’

Farnaby jumped up. ‘Wait, my lord!’ he said, gripping the edge of the table and seeming to search for words.

‘Well?’ said the Earl.

Farnaby licked his lips. ‘I could be of use to you!’ he said desperately.

‘You are mistaken,’ said the Earl in a tone that struck a chill into Farnaby’s veins. ‘No man who has bungled once is of the least use to me.’

Farnaby sank down into his chair again, looking after the Earl’s tall figure with an expression of mingled venom and despair in his eyes. Worth strolled away towards the parlour door.

He had not reached it when his gaze alighted on the figure of a gentleman who had entered the tavern a few minutes earlier, and was standing at the other end of the tap-room, fixedly regarding him.

The Earl checked, gently put aside a slightly inebriated sailor who was standing in his way, and walked across the room to the newcomer. ‘Your servant, Mr Taverner.’

Mr Taverner bowed formally. ‘Good evening, Lord Worth.’

The fingers of the Earl’s right hand began to play with the riband of his quizzing-glass. ‘Well, Mr Taverner, what is it?’ he asked.

Bernard Taverner raised his brows. ‘What is it?’ he repeated. ‘What is what, my lord?’

‘You seemed to me to be much interested in my movements,’ said Worth. ‘Or am I at fault?’

‘Interested . . .’ said Mr Taverner. ‘I was not so much interested, sir, as surprised, since you ask me.’

‘To find me here? I am often to be seen in Cribb’s Parlour,’ replied the Earl.

‘I am aware of it. What I was not aware of, and which, I must confess, occasioned some surprise in me, was that you are also to be seen in such company as Farnaby’s.’

This was said plainly enough, and with a straight look that met Worth’s cynical gaze squarely. It did not, however, appear to embarrass the Earl. ‘Ah, but I frequently find myself in strange company at Cribb’s, Mr Taverner,’ he said.

Taverner’s lips tightened. After a moment’s silence he said in a measured way: ‘You will admit, Lord Worth, that to see you in conversation with a person who only this morning set out to fight a duel with your ward must present a very odd appearance. Or are you perhaps in ignorance of to-day’s releager ?’

The Earl’s fingers slid down the riband to the shaft of his quizzing-glass. He raised it. ‘No, Mr Taverner, I was not in ignorance of it.’

There was another silence, during which Bernard Taverner seemed to be trying to read what thoughts might lie behind the Earl’s suave manner. ‘You were not in ignorance, and yet –’

‘Curiously enough,’ said Worth, ‘it was on that very subject that I have been talking to Mr Farnaby.’

‘Indeed!’

‘Yes,’ said the Earl. ‘But why should we fence, Mr Taverner?

You suspect me, I think, of taking a large interest in the affaire Farnaby, and you are quite right. I have informed him – and I believe he understood me tolerably well – that his part is played. So you must not worry about him, my dear sir.’

Taverner frowned. ‘I don’t entirely understand you, sir. I did not come here to insult you with accusations which must be absurd, but I think it will not be inopportune to assure you that I have the interests of my cousins very much at heart, and should not hesitate to serve either of them to the utmost of my power.’

‘I am profoundly moved by your assurance, Mr Taverner,’ said the Earl, with an unpleasant smile, ‘but I cannot help feeling that you would be wiser to refrain from meddling in your cousins’ affairs.’