Sheffield

CHAPTER TWO

Four weeks had passed since he arrived at his cousin's London townhouse and two since the ball. He had joined the men on every rousing trip to the pubs, men's clubs, game nights and social dinners that seemed to be the extent of extracurricular activity in London and he was going mad from the tedium. He longed for the open spaces, the fresh air and grass under foot. The cold cobbled streets, the pretense of society and false friendships therein wore on his soul. He began to regret his decision to leave Ireland even with all of its hardships he had at least had freedom and true friends. Not that his cousins and Edward didn't seem true but the rest wore whatever face they needed to deliver themselves into yet a higher echelon of society and he could see it too in his cousins. Their faces were different alone and in public. He had only ever had to wear one, his true one, and he found that a distinct disadvantage in the cutthroat society of London which seemed built on lies, intrigue and gossip. The creaking of a door and heavy footsteps on the marbled floor drew him from his decrying. He turned as the library door opened spilling Charles and Reginald into the room.

Charles crossed to the stand of glasses and decanter as Reginald flopped heavy into a wing-backed chair in front of the hearth. Ewan could see the dark circles under Reginald's eyes. The heavy smell of tobacco wafted through the air. They must have just come in. Charles polished off a tot of whiskey, poured another and turned to Ewan, "You should have come with us. You remember that dandy Viscount?" Ewan's brows drew together. Charles thrust out his glass towards Ewan, "You remember...from the ball...the shrew." He waved his glass in front of him, his eyes latched onto it, he pulled it to his mouth and swallowed the contents as Ewan nodded. "Well, we took all his money." Reginald suddenly burst out laughing and looked towards his brother, eyes watering from the exertion. Charles' lips curled upwards, "He was fit to be tied. Wanted to get the bobby. Said we cheated him." He stopped as his own laugh escaped but died quickly as he shook his head. "Ass. Had him every game honest too. But then Thomas Randolph..." Reginald piped in suddenly, "He is a barrister." Ewan's eyes cut back to Charles who nodded in affirmation, "...he said we should give the git back his money so as not to involve the bobby." Both men sighed and stared tiredly into space. Ewan crossed the room, laid his glass on the table and turned to Charles, "So, you wanted me there to see you hand an ass back his money?" His voice was flat but Charles ignored it, chuckled then spoke seriously, "No, I wanted you there to give him a good beating. We would not have  given him back a dime with an Irishman beside us." Ewan glanced over to Reginald who had started to softly snore then back at Charles who was filling up his glass. This is what they thought of him, muscle, because he was Irish or because he was poor? He nodded more to himself than to Charles and headed for the door. Charles spoke as his hand fell on the knob, "We are traveling to the country house. Leaving in a week." Ewan turned back to Charles and met his eye with a genuine smile, "You should get some sleep." Charles raised his glass to Ewan as he turned and left the room.

She had barely entered the residence when her friend burst through the drawing room squealing at her. "Ace! Praise be I am so glad you have come." Wrapping her hands around Ms. Benning's she pulled them towards the drawing room. Her pleasure upon seeing her friend unquelled, she kept squealing as she pulled them down on a chaise. "You will not believe, oh you will not. I am so overly glad you have come." Having just about enough overwhelming joy Miss Benning put an end to it. Janet gathered herself for a few moments, allowing the tea to be poured then looked at her friend with glowing eyes. "We are going to the park." It was an affirmation and Miss Benning having just raised the cup to her lips gagged slightly on the warm liquid, cleared her throat and lowered the cup. "I am to speak with your Father." Janet's expression dropped only for a breath then she waved dainty fingers towards her friend and spoke, "Posh, you will see Father in the country. You cannot have business so important." Miss Benning felt the ire rise slightly at her friend's comments and took a moment to compose herself so as not to discommode her friend, "Janet, you know little of the business I have with anyone, nor do I think you are overly concerned with it and so, you cannot know of its importance." Janet turned slightly away from her friend and the harsh rebuke, lifted the cup to her lips, slowing set the cup back on the tray and turned again. Miss Benning felt her heart drop as Janet put on her puppy dog eyes and formed her plump little lips in the hint of a pout. Batting her lashes slowly several times she lowered her voice in false resignation, "Mr. Whitehouse was to be there. I have no chaperone. We are to leave for the country so soon and he has not had the opportunity to visit with me properly." She paused for effect, "You know what I mean of course." Drawing a long breath and exhaling slowly Miss Benning acknowledged the overwhelming power of her friend. "With that display I cannot see how you have not had the whole of London under your thumb the last twenty years." Slowly a blossom of a smile rose on Janet's face. She quickly squeezed Miss Benning's arm and lifted her tea cup again. "So, it is settled. I will tell Father when we have finished our tea."