Page 12 of Confounding Oaths
“You risked your commission as well.”
“I risk my commission by existing. Men like Bloodworth think I’m a threat to the army.”
Though he didn’t want to, Mr. Caesar felt a twinge of recognition in that. A shared knowledge of being part of something that resented him. “Even so, it was the least I could do to return the favour.”
It seemed like an age had passed, and perhaps it had, for they were alone in a sparsely decorated room with little to mark the passage of time. But eventually, the door to the nearby office opened and an ancillary called them both through to the hearing.
There were three men in the room, and Mr. Caesar’s heart sank as he realised he recognised all of them. One—a greying man in the uniform of a major-general—might have been a slight comfort. Mr. Caeser recognised him as Lord Hawksmoor and, although they were barely acquainted, he understood the man to be a friend of his grandfather. The other two, however, were less comforting. Major Bloodworth and Lord Hale, who familial propriety still required that Mr. Caesar address asUncle Richard.
“Ah,” began Lord Hawksmoor as though he hadn’t been quite sure who he was expecting, “James.”
“My lord.” The captain bowed his head in a gesture of what seemed to be sincere respect.
“Mylord,” Major Bloodworth interrupted, in a tone that read as rather less respectful. “This reprobate was caught not four nights past brawling in the street with common servants. He is a disgrace to his country, his uniform, and his king.”
Lord Hawksmoor turned his hooded eyes to Captain James. “Is this true?”
“Not a word of it, sir,” the captain replied, a little overzealously from my perspective, but then my understanding of truth is rather more refined than that of mortals.
A pretriumphal gleam appeared in Lord Hale’s eye. “You deny that there was a fight.”
“I deny brawling, my lord. I encountered a gentleman who was being accosted by two ruffians, and I fought them off.”
“And bygentleman,” Lord Hale clarified, “you mean Mr. Caesar here.”
“My grandfather is an earl,” replied Mr. Caesar firmly. “And my uncle is a baron. I believe that makes me a gentleman.”
Lord Hale, never original in his facial expressions, sneered. “And who is your father?”
This was an old point of contention within the family, and by this stage the Caesars had a standard response to it. “The best man my mother ever knew.”
To Lord Hawksmoor, this all seemed to be drifting a little off topic. “But youwerebeing accosted? And Captain James here came to your defence?”
“That’s correct, my lord,” confirmed Mr. Caesar.
Major Bloodworth made an unbecoming sputtering sound. “He was notbeing accosted,he was being taught an important lesson.”
“What manner of lesson, precisely?” asked Lord Hawksmoor.
“Not to strike an officer of His Majesty’s army,” replied the major.
Lord Hawksmoor’s gaze turned impassively to Mr. Caesar. “And did you?”
“The officer in question insulted my sister,” Mr. Caesar explained.
The major bristled. “Idid not.”
“I’m sorry”—Lord Hawksmoor rested his hand on his chin and gave the major a long, cool look—“it seems you might be a little more involved in this matter than I thought.”
Lord Hale, if I was any judge, had expected this whole exchange to go better. But then he had also, perhaps, expected his companion to be more circumspect.
“I made”—the major launched into his version of events without consultation or consideration—“a perfectly reasonable comment about the young man’s sister, a girl nobody will deny is ill-favoured—”
“I would deny it,” remarked Mr. Caesar, as blithely as he could manage.
Lord Hawksmoor looked approving. “I should hope so. Man who can’t stand up for his sister isn’t much of a man at all in my book. And look here, Bloodworth”—he turned to the major—“even if this girl isn’t so easy on the eye, that’s no reason to go saying it aloud. It’s unbecoming.”
“But that doesn’t excuse violence.” Lord Hale’s tone was so moralising I almost wanted to give him ass’s ears there and then just to spite him. Honestly, I think it would have been an improvement.
