Part 22 (2/2)

Miss Dogmill held herself straight and folded her arms across her chest. ”Stop spitting on your friends like a schoolboy and apologize to Mr. Evans,” she said sternly, ”and perhaps he will forgive this outrage.”

I looked over at Mr. Dogmill and showed him my most winsome smile. I did it, of course, to mock him. I knew he found himself in a bind. Any man of grit would challenge me to a duel now, but I already knew he would not risk anything so scandalous until after the election.

Dogmill looked like a cat cornered by a salivating hound. He turned this way and that. He tried to think his way out of his trouble, but nothing came to mind.

”Get out. I'll settle our account once the election is resolved.”

I grinned once more. ”Well, I should be a rascal to be unsatisfied with an apology so kindly rendered,” I told the room, ”so I shall accept Mr. Dogmill's words in the good spirit he intended them. Now, perhaps you gentlemen would leave so that Miss Dogmill and I can be alone once more.”

Only she, I should observe, laughed at my quip. All of Dogmill's friends appeared mortified, and Mr. Dogmill's muscles tightened so that he nearly collapsed on the floor with a seizure.

”Or,” I proposed, ”it might be best if I were to come back some other time, for the hour is rather late.” I bowed to the lady and told her I hoped I should see her again soon. With that, I walked to the door and the crowd of men parted before me.

I had to make my own way from the parlor to the front door, and in doing so I pa.s.sed a pretty little serving girl with sprightly green eyes. ”Are you Molly?” I asked her.

She nodded dumbly.

I pressed a pair of s.h.i.+llings into her hand. ”The same will be yours the next time you are supposed to inform Mr. Dogmill of my presence but neglect to do so.”

I looked this way and that but saw no hackneys, and I could hardly expect Dogmill to volunteer his man to run one down for me, but I turned to reenter the house and request just that service. As I turned, however, I found myself facing Dogmill, who had followed me outside. looked this way and that but saw no hackneys, and I could hardly expect Dogmill to volunteer his man to run one down for me, but I turned to reenter the house and request just that service. As I turned, however, I found myself facing Dogmill, who had followed me outside.

”Don't make the mistake of thinking me a coward,” he said. ”I should have fought with you on any terms to let you defend what you have the impudence to call your honor, but I cannot risk any action that might reflect badly on Mr. Hertcomb, with whom I am so nearly a.s.sociated. When this election is complete, you may depend upon my calling for you. In the meantime, I suggest you keep your distance from my sister.”

”And if I choose not to, how will you punish me? With another threat of a duel six weeks hence?” I cannot easily express the pleasure I took in making his outrage even more exquisite.

He took a step closer to me, no doubt with the intent of intimidating me with his great size. ”Do you think to test me, sir? I may be shy of a public duel, but I will not be shy of putting my foot to your a.r.s.e right here.”

”I like your sister, sir, and I shall call upon her for as long as she wishes me to. I will not hear your objections, and I will tolerate no more rudeness from you.”

I think perhaps I overplayed my part, because I next found myself at the foot of the stairs, in the wet street muck, looking up at Dogmill, who nearly smiled at my embarra.s.sing position. An aching jaw and the coppery taste of blood in my mouth told me where I had been struck, and I ran my tongue along my teeth to satisfy myself that nothing had been knocked loose.

Here, at least, was some good news, for all remained properly affixed. Nevertheless, I was startled by the speed rather than the force of Dogmill's blow. I knew him to be a strong man, and I could not but believe he had chosen to reserve some of the power he unleashed against me. I had taken many such blows during my days as a pugilist, and I knew a man who could deliver a punch so quickly-so quickly I had not even seen it coming-could have deployed far more force than Dogmill had put into his attack. He toyed with me. Or he dared not risk killing me, perhaps. He thought me a wealthy trader, and he could not so easily escape the law should he murder me the way he did beggars and paupers.

It was Dogmill's strength that presented the greatest challenge to me. Were he a weaker man, a man whom I believed I could best easily, I would have had no difficulty in walking away from a fight. I would tell myself it was the right decision and think no more of it. It was the knowledge that he could, most likely, defeat me that made my decision more difficult, for more than anything I wished to return the blow, to challenge him like a man of grit. I knew I would hate myself for turning coward. I would lie awake at night and think of how I should have or might have or wished I could have answered his challenge. But I could not do it. I told myself I could not do it. I dared not risk revealing myself to Dogmill.

I sat up and stared at him for a moment. ”You have taken liberties,” I said at last, through a stiff jaw.

”Chastise me if you will,” he answered I d.a.m.ned him in silence, for he knew I would not stand up to him like a man. ”My time will come,” I said, attempting to drown my shame in thoughts of vengeance.

”Your time has come and gone,” he told me. He turned his back and returned to his house.

CHAPTER 19.

GRACE KNEW who I was. I cannot say if this revelation was more a distress or a relief, for I had at least the comfort of no longer having to lie to her. But how had she known me, and what did she intend to do now that she had discovered my true name? Fortunately, it was she who saved me from the torment of wonder, for I received from her the next morning a note inquiring if I would like to join her on the canva.s.s. I knew nothing of how these things were ordered, and my innate curiosity would have compelled even if other circ.u.mstances had not. I wrote back at once, indicating my eager agreement. who I was. I cannot say if this revelation was more a distress or a relief, for I had at least the comfort of no longer having to lie to her. But how had she known me, and what did she intend to do now that she had discovered my true name? Fortunately, it was she who saved me from the torment of wonder, for I received from her the next morning a note inquiring if I would like to join her on the canva.s.s. I knew nothing of how these things were ordered, and my innate curiosity would have compelled even if other circ.u.mstances had not. I wrote back at once, indicating my eager agreement.

My jaw was tender from Dogmill's blow, but miraculously it was not swollen or discolored, so I saw no reason to decline the invitation. At nearly eleven, a coach arrived covered in the blue-and-orange streamers of Mr. Hertcomb's campaign. If I thought, however, that I should find myself alone in that coach with Miss Dogmill, I was sadly mistaken, for it was that worthy, Mr. Hertcomb himself, who arose from the coach and met me with something less than good cheer. According to the letter of the law, he ought to be on the hustings each day for the duration of the polling, but in Westminster, where the election lasted for so long, no one insisted that the candidates endure such a hards.h.i.+p, and many men were known to make only brief appearances daily.

Inside the coach I found Miss Dogmill, adorned in a lovely gown of orange and blue colors. I sat across from her and offered her a thin smile. The grin she returned me was hearty and amused. She was possessed of my secrets, and I would have done anything to hear what she had to say, but I would have to wait-and she loved making me do so.

The equipage had only just begun to rumble along when Hertcomb, straining under the weight of his confusion, turned to me. ”I must say, sir, I am startled to see you wish to join us.”

”And why should that surprise you?” I asked, somewhat startled by his tone.

”You do remain a Tory, do you not?”

”I have had no conversion,” I said.

”And a supporter of Mr. Melbury?”

”So long as he stands for the Tories.”

”Then why should you wish to join us? You don't mean to do any mischief, I hope.”

”None,” I promised him. ”I join you because I wish you well, Mr. Hertcomb, and because Miss Dogmill asked me to join your outing. You, yourself, have said that party is not all to a man. Besides which, when a lady as amiable as Miss Dogmill makes a request, it takes a foolish man to decline.”

Hertcomb was in no way satisfied with this answer, but as none other was forthcoming, he made do with it as best he could. I did not like his new spirit of confrontation, and I could only imagine that he was caught between conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he wished more than anything for me to continue defying Dogmill. On the other, he wished I would leave Dogmill's sister to his own ineffectual attempts. Our coach, meanwhile, had turned onto c.o.c.kspur Street, and I observed that we were headed in the direction of Covent Garden.

”How do you determine the location of the canva.s.s?” I asked.

”That is a good question,” Hertcomb said, his tone lighter now that his curiosity had been aroused. ”How do do they do that?” they do that?”

Miss Dogmill smiled like a lady's painting instructor. ”My brother, as you know, is managing Mr. Hertcomb's election, so he coordinates with his underlings the names and addresses of the voters in Westminster.”

”But there must be near ten thousand of them. Surely, each voter does not receive a visit.”

”Surely, each voter does,” she said. ”Ten thousand visits are not so many when the election campaign lasts six weeks and there are dozens of canva.s.sers willing to encourage each to do his bit for his country. Westminster is not a country borough where these things can simply be directed by the landowners. We require action here.”

I had long heard of such things, of the great men and squires of the counties telling their tenants how to vote. Renters who defied orders were often forced off their land and pauperized. Once or twice the suggestion of secret voting had been raised in Parliament, but this notion had always been shot down immediately. What did it say of British liberty, the men of the Commons demanded, if a man were afraid to say publicly whom he supports?

”It is hard to believe that so many are willing to give up their time to the cause,” I said.

”And why should that be so hard to be believe?” Hertcomb asked me, perhaps a little insulted.

”I only mean that politics is a very particular thing-in which people seem interested largely in their own gain.”

”You are a cynic, sir. Can it not be that they are interested in the Whig cause?”

”And what is the Whig cause, if I may ask?”

”I see no point in arguing this matter with you,” he said irritably.

”I do not seek a quarrel. I am most interested in hearing what const.i.tutes the Whig cause. From my perspective, it appears to be little more than protecting the privileges of new men with new money and standing in the way of anything that would suggest there is more to seek than to enrich oneself at the cost of the world. If there is a more fundamental ideology that the party rests upon, I should very much like to know it.”

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