Rowland’s eyes lit up. “A milliner’s assistant and governess?”
Val nodded. “They all work in the city. Two of the boarders have families in the country, but for the most part I see very little of them unless I share a meal. Oftentimes I miss the meal times and must fend for myself.”
Rowland yawned indiscreetly and Val took the hint and stopped talking.
“And that job of yours. How goes it?” Rowland asked sipping his drink. “You are doing what exactly?”
Val swirled his scotch. “I work at the Metropolitan Police as a bobby,” he said giving his occupation as a common policeman when they both knew he was much more.
Rowland laughed. “A bobby? Do you direct traffic and help little old ladies across the street?”
“Of course. It’s an exciting occupation.”
Rowland finished his gin and ordered another one. “Come now. What are you working on Detective Chief Inspector Pierce?”
“Nothing that would interest you. It’s all interviews and paperwork,” Val said quietly, though he was certain his brother knew what his current case was about and how his name had even been mentioned several times in the newspapers.
“It sounds drab and boring.” Rowland said.
“Exactly so,” Val said, thinking of the three women whose lives had been cut short due to a violent killer who still roamed the streets.
“Have you seen Father lately?” Rowland asked.
“Last week. We had dinner here at the club actually.”
“Hmm.”
“Why?”
“No reason. He’s on me to marry.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone must settle down eventually Rowland. You know, raise a family once you’ve found the right girl.”
“But that’s my point, old man,” Rowland said, a twinkle in his eye. “Why settle down with the right girl when you can have all the girls you want. I don’t want a ball and chain keeping me home every night. The same woman, the same honey pot. No thanks,” he smiled and twirled his drink before drowning it all.
“I imagine chasing skirts will bore even you eventually,” Val commented.
“It hasn’t bored Uncle Edgar yet and he’s our father’s age.” Rowland returned.
Val made no comment to this. Edgar Reedley was their mother’s brother, and as their mother had been a Philadelphia socialite with money to burn, her brother was the same. He spent time in France and New York with no fixed home. In London, he often stayed at his club and gambled the nights away. It was well known that Uncle Edgar owed money to some shady people and would have to bail himself out of yet another scrape.
Val had never been close to his Uncle, but then they were very different men. As the second son of an Earl, Val had attended university set on going into law. Instead of practicing law, he had turned to the Metropolitan Police and worked his way into the Criminal Investigation Department, rising in rank from Detective Constable to Detective Chief Inspector. He fully intended to make his way to Superintendent and knew that a truly important case could make, or possibly break, his career.
His family didn’t take his career seriously and often made light of his work. He knew in his social circle men of his stature did not work, and those that did were looked down upon as inferior for having to make a living. He knew that as a younger son, he had to make his way in the world and it gave him a sense of accomplishment that he had done so. As a Detective Chief Inspector, he was respected and well regarded among his fellow police officers.
“I’m sure Father wants you to marry for a family and carry on the name,” Val pointed out. “That’s important and your duty to carry on the name, as you are the next Earl of Banham. You must understand that, Rowland.”
“I never cared for any of that,” Rowland scoffed. “And I certainly don’t see myself with a couple of hellions and a needling wife to come home to.”
Val dismissed his words. “It doesn’t matter what you care for or want. You know it’s the way things go. It’s your duty. God knows Father drilled that into us all our lives. Duty.”
“Do I ever. I went to the same university because Father did. I joined his club because Father wished it. Thankfully I have my own club now. You have no idea what it’s like to b
e in this gilded cage, Val. It’s a noose,” he said almost angrily.
“It’s your duty but it gives you the freedom to do as you please. Especially once you inherit,” Val pointed out.
“And marriage,” Rowland said shaking his head. “What kind of bride would she be? I’ll tell you,” he said leaning in close. “She’ll be the type of bride that will spread her legs eager enough in the beginning, and once an heir is birthed, she’ll never lay with me again. No thank you. No marriage for me.”