important newspaper, and mobilize the armed forces of the Empire in a single night without being arrested or dropping his pants.
The reason he had done so had subsequently vanished inan alcoholic haze. Nevertheless, a bet was a bet, duly recorded and witnessed at the Xanadu Gentlemen’s Club. Thousands of pounds rested on Tobias’s word, not to mention a stellar opportunity to annoy his father.
“You are mad,” Bucky observed placidly. “But in a pleasant way.”
Tobias lifted the chased silver handle of his opera glasses to once more peruse the audience. “A man needs an antidote to boredom. A man needs ambition.”
“To do what?”
The question summed up Tobias in three words. At the advanced age of twenty-three, he was more familiar with all the things he
didn’t
want to do with his life. The founding of the Society for the Proliferation of Impertinent Events was his one great accomplishment, and the most fun to be had since Diogenes Smythe tried to jump his father’s prize stallion over a moving locomotive.
Sad. Really. Surely you’re good for more than this?
Or maybe not. That was the scary possibility, wasn’t it?
“Abercrombie put you up to it,” Bucky carried on. “I remember that much from the night in question.”
“So?”
Bucky sighed with disgust. “Abercrombie is a jam tart and you were drunk. Note that jam tarts are sticky and prone to leaving stains.”
Tobias hated the waiting phase of a plan. It always led to moments of doubt, and he was having a large one now. Not that he would admit that to Bucky.
Were eight tentacles enough? Did I bribe the stagehands sufficiently? What the blazes will I do if this goes all wrong? I can’t put my hands on that much money. Dear old Dad will throw a wobbler. At least that has possibilities …
He swung the glasses farther to the left. In the penumbra of the gas footlights, the diamonds worn by the ladies in the audience shimmered like the Flying Dutchman’s faraway sea. At last, the girl who had caught his eye came into focus. A pretty thing, tall, slender, and crowned with a fall of walnut curls.
To his annoyance, he could sense Bucky leaning over,trying to guess whom he was ogling. “I say, is that whatsit—I mean your sister’s friend?” Bucky asked.
Tobias lowered the glasses, disappointed. “Miss Cooper? No. Just looks a bit like her.”
“Ah.” Bucky straightened, took a nip from an ornate silver flask, then passed it to Tobias.
“Ah?” Tobias feigned innocence, then started as he caught sight of his father in a center box. Now he knew how Macbeth felt during a Banquo moment. He pushed the image away before it spoiled his mood. Instead, he conjured Evelina’s heart-shaped face.
“Ah.” Bucky nodded sagely, giving him a sly wink.
Tobias took a drink, disgruntled.
Onstage, the bass-baritone imitated a dyspeptic tuba.
Tobias let the brandy linger on his tongue a moment before swallowing. Evelina Cooper would fit right in with Bucky and the rest of the society’s charter members. That is, if one overlooked the girl part, which was plainly impossible. Evelina’s girl parts were on his mind almost constantly of late. Imogen’s school friend had suddenly come into focus after years of existing as blurry backdrop.
Given her scanty dowry, she wasn’t the type of girl one married, not even with the Holmes name on her mother’s side. They were just country gentry. All right for a barrister or a civil servant, but not quite the thing for the son of a lord. If it hadn’t been for poor Imogen’s obvious attachment, Evelina wouldn’t travel in their set.
But she wasn’t that other kind of woman, either, the kind one kept about just for larks. Things would have been a lot simpler if she were. The problem was, he wanted Evelina to
like
him. It was ridiculous. He never wanted that from a girl.
“Do you think Edgerton’s in place?” he asked, mostly to distract himself.
Bucky pulled out his watch, flipped open the case, and
The reason he had done so had subsequently vanished inan alcoholic haze. Nevertheless, a bet was a bet, duly recorded and witnessed at the Xanadu Gentlemen’s Club. Thousands of pounds rested on Tobias’s word, not to mention a stellar opportunity to annoy his father.
“You are mad,” Bucky observed placidly. “But in a pleasant way.”
Tobias lifted the chased silver handle of his opera glasses to once more peruse the audience. “A man needs an antidote to boredom. A man needs ambition.”
“To do what?”
The question summed up Tobias in three words. At the advanced age of twenty-three, he was more familiar with all the things he
didn’t
want to do with his life. The founding of the Society for the Proliferation of Impertinent Events was his one great accomplishment, and the most fun to be had since Diogenes Smythe tried to jump his father’s prize stallion over a moving locomotive.
Sad. Really. Surely you’re good for more than this?
Or maybe not. That was the scary possibility, wasn’t it?
“Abercrombie put you up to it,” Bucky carried on. “I remember that much from the night in question.”
“So?”
Bucky sighed with disgust. “Abercrombie is a jam tart and you were drunk. Note that jam tarts are sticky and prone to leaving stains.”
Tobias hated the waiting phase of a plan. It always led to moments of doubt, and he was having a large one now. Not that he would admit that to Bucky.
Were eight tentacles enough? Did I bribe the stagehands sufficiently? What the blazes will I do if this goes all wrong? I can’t put my hands on that much money. Dear old Dad will throw a wobbler. At least that has possibilities …
He swung the glasses farther to the left. In the penumbra of the gas footlights, the diamonds worn by the ladies in the audience shimmered like the Flying Dutchman’s faraway sea. At last, the girl who had caught his eye came into focus. A pretty thing, tall, slender, and crowned with a fall of walnut curls.
To his annoyance, he could sense Bucky leaning over,trying to guess whom he was ogling. “I say, is that whatsit—I mean your sister’s friend?” Bucky asked.
Tobias lowered the glasses, disappointed. “Miss Cooper? No. Just looks a bit like her.”
“Ah.” Bucky straightened, took a nip from an ornate silver flask, then passed it to Tobias.
“Ah?” Tobias feigned innocence, then started as he caught sight of his father in a center box. Now he knew how Macbeth felt during a Banquo moment. He pushed the image away before it spoiled his mood. Instead, he conjured Evelina’s heart-shaped face.
“Ah.” Bucky nodded sagely, giving him a sly wink.
Tobias took a drink, disgruntled.
Onstage, the bass-baritone imitated a dyspeptic tuba.
Tobias let the brandy linger on his tongue a moment before swallowing. Evelina Cooper would fit right in with Bucky and the rest of the society’s charter members. That is, if one overlooked the girl part, which was plainly impossible. Evelina’s girl parts were on his mind almost constantly of late. Imogen’s school friend had suddenly come into focus after years of existing as blurry backdrop.
Given her scanty dowry, she wasn’t the type of girl one married, not even with the Holmes name on her mother’s side. They were just country gentry. All right for a barrister or a civil servant, but not quite the thing for the son of a lord. If it hadn’t been for poor Imogen’s obvious attachment, Evelina wouldn’t travel in their set.
But she wasn’t that other kind of woman, either, the kind one kept about just for larks. Things would have been a lot simpler if she were. The problem was, he wanted Evelina to
like
him. It was ridiculous. He never wanted that from a girl.
“Do you think Edgerton’s in place?” he asked, mostly to distract himself.
Bucky pulled out his watch, flipped open the case, and
Similar Books
