Page 28 of Hazard a Guest
Yes, he thought. That seemed to be correct.
Worse, it was harder to hate the current Lord Penrose after two hours of tone-deaf avuncular charm. He seemed to be ignorant rather than malevolent, but in that way that wealthy people always were.
Joe supposed everyone was ignorant in some way or another. No one chose their upbringing, after all.
He’d had a thousand questions about Portugal.
“I do intend to visit sometime,” the older man had boasted, as though he’d already gone and come back again. “Yes, absolutely,when it’s a little safer, of course. I hear the women are a sight to be seen! I’m sure you can attest, Mr. Cresson.”
“I wouldn’t presume to, Lord Penrose,” Joe had replied. “After all, they don’t have Cornish hips.”
“They might,” Freddy had put in, helpful as always. “Plenty of Celtic folks settled in Iberia.”
And then the idiot had grinned as he won glares from both Cresson and Penrose, and perhaps the little tailor too.
In the end, Joe had his first and only set of tails, and it appeared to be a gift at that. The satin of the lapels and inner lining was perhaps the finest thing he’deverowned in his wardrobe. Even the fine knit of the wool on the jacket would have had his mother swooning, and she was a damned zealot about textiles.
He was, privately, quite excited to wear it tonight.
“You’ll get another suit in a couple of days,” the little tailor had assured him, snapping to attention like it was his divine calling. “You are more strongly built than many of the gentlemen in attendance, and I will have to find the right starting garment.”
It was the second time that day that Joe found himself blushing.
“More strongly built,” Freddy tutted while they dressed for dinner, helping Joe with the fussier bits of wearing formal tails. “I beg his absolute pardon!”
“You’re probably still his favorite,” Joe said absently, which only made Freddy laugh and proffer pomade at him.
“Let’s tame those curls, hm?”
“What do you mean, tame?” Joe replied in wary bafflement.
The final effect, when he’d taken in his appearance in the mirror before they departed toward the dining room, had been a little startling.
Joe thought he looked very much like a gentleman. He looked, he realized with a little thrill of horror, like someone he’d defer to if he passed himself in a room.
“I need a favor,” Freddy said, hovering a little conspicuously near the door. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t,” said Joe without hesitation, because he never did mind, truly.
Freddy held out his hand, two ivory cubes sitting in his palm, glinting with accents of gold. “I need you to take these and hold them while we are here. Please.”
Joe turned from the mirror with surprise. “Are those your famous dice?”
“Yes. Well, yes and no. They were grandfather’s, actually,” said Freddy with a grimace. “Torn from some poor elephant a world away. I brought them because I know Penrose and the others will expect to see them, but I can’t carry them around, Joseph. I can feel them burning against my skin, even through my pockets.”
Joe frowned. “Why not give them to Ember? She’s planning to actually play, isn’t she?”
“Ember prefers cards,” Freddy explained, moving his hand a little like he needed them gone immediately. “And I … I can’t give them to Ember. I did once before and it ended very, very badly. She doesn’t forget when things go badly. You might want to remember that.”
Joe took the dice, letting Freddy drop them into his hand and slump with obvious relief.
“Thank you,” said Freddy, as though he hadn’t just said a bunch of ominous and terribly intriguing things. “Thank you very much.”
“It’s nothing,” said Joe, a little unsettled by how much this was affecting the other man. “It really is nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” said Freddy, already turning and walking out into the hall. “I owe you, Cresson.”
“I promise that you do not, Lord Bentley.”
