Never Land the First Fish

Chapter Thirteen: Part 1

"Is that all of it?" Maddox asked, watching the bags and trunks and boxes pile up in the front hallway of the house he was borrowing from a friend.

Gills had come to stay, now Lady Julia had established herself in a room guarded by a dragon. It was rather impressive, how many belongings Gills had acquired since they docked in New York. He hoped he wouldn't have to advance another loan.

"That's all, but for a few suits yet to be delivered. Don't worry, Mad. I'm not at risk of leaving myself destitute and at your mercy."

Maddox steered Gills into a sitting room and motioned to the butler that came with the house that everything should make its way to Gills quarters upstairs.

"In fact, I will have you know, quite apart from the fact I've sent a request to my brother for access to my funds and a report on the legal situation, I am in possession of an offer for a job."

Maddox's mouth fell open. "A job? You?"

"I know! Is it not the most absurd thing you ever heard? It is as ludicrous as Lady Athol Soddenfeld acting the lady's maid, is it not?"

"What sort of establishment wishes to hire you?"

"It's Mr. Vandenberg. He wishes to teach me his business of making spectacles of things, and will pay me a fee for finding and producing such events in any locale where I should wish to travel, most especially London, when we decide to return. Can you imagine me planning spectacles for money in London, Mad? It's unimaginable. I'd be laughed out of Boodles."

"You are rather animated about a possibility you say is impossible."

"Only, it sounds so much fun, Mad. What he does, it's all about finding talented people and showcasing them, making money for everyone. He's got an eye for talent, and I can't say I would mind learning how he does it. It's a wholly different way to be a patron of the arts, which I have always been, from the time I had my first income."

"Wholly different than making mistresses of opera dancers, to be sure."

"No, I will not allow you to disdain me. I have roofed a theatre and half-built a symphony hall, both of which have afforded me a permanent box, and I keep no less than four boxes per season among various other entertainments. My dalliances with actresses and dancers may have been why I started on this path when I was young with a generous allowance, but I have long since surpassed dilettantish when it comes to the arts. I had heard of Emily Kilbrierry and Giancarlo Narcisso long before you."

Maddox conceded with a nod. "I stand corrected." With a curious tilt of his head, Maddox said, "I say, what is the story with you and Emily Kilbrierry? How do you know of her? You said she was a family connection of a sort?"

Gills blushed in a way that made Maddox sorry he'd asked. "You needn't answer me if the topic is unwelcome."

"No, it is bound to come out eventually. You know my father made so many scandals with Indian women that he ruined his family utterly. You have to know that much, as it is all anyone ever says about the Coventon marquisate."

"Yes, I have heard that," Maddox admitted.

"Well, the granddaddy of all the scandals, back in 1815 when I was still a baby, involved my father helping Emily and her aunt, who was my father's former mistress, and an English baron called Rookscombe, escape persecution in England, by selling him a plantation in Brazil. Emily was a very young child, as I understand it, only seven or eight. My father ruined an earl utterly—physically, mentally, and financially—to avenge his dark-skinned mistress, then packed the woman off on a ship to marry a different nobleman, with a young child in tow. My mother left our house after that and took up residence in Scotland. She was forever convinced the child was our father's."