Page 61 of The Lawrence Browne Affair
“A pot of prawns, yes indeed, my lad. I’ll get right to it. How about you stay here while I do just that.”
Georgie bit back a groan. If this didn’t pan out, he didn’t have another plan. Attempting to talk to Brewster hadn’t worked, so Georgie had resorted to ruining him. He had thought that by giving evidence against Brewster, he’d protect the people he loved. If Brewster were in prison, he couldn’t go to Penkellis and harm Lawrence, nor could he harass Jack and Sarah.
The only catch was that Georgie, too, would be in prison. Or worse.
When the clerk left, the door bolted firmly behind him, Georgie slumped in his chair and tried to rest. He couldn’t have said how long passed before the door opened again.
“You’re an idiot.”
Georgie jerked to attention. In the doorway stood his brother, wearing a grim expression.
“Jack, what are you—”
“I could ask you the same. You realize that once they realize you weren’t lying, they’re going to try to pin every unsolved racket onto you. Damn it, Georgie.” He slapped his hat onto the table and slumped into the chair across from Georgie.
Of course Jack had found him. He had people all over London whispering in his ear.
Jack scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Sarah will be worried sick, you know.”
Georgie had known Jack long enough to understand that this was code forI’m worried. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You could have stayed in Cornwall, or gone to Paris, or gone anywhere else on earth, for God’s sake, Georgie.”
“I didn’t want Brewster to hunt me down in Cornwall.”
“Ah, so you came here to make it easy on him? To give him a sporting chance?”
“No,” Georgie said slowly, weighing whether to confide in his brother. Oh, hell, he didn’t have much to lose at this point. “I was worried that he’d harm Radnor.”
Jack’s eyes flew open, and an expression of bewildered shock flickered across his face for the briefest instant, before his features resumed an even grimmer expression than before. “Ah, fuck me. Wasn’t expecting that.”
If Georgie were even a little less tired, he would have laughed at his brother’s confusion. As it was, he huffed out a sound that was more like a feeble wheeze. “Nor was I.”
“So you’re here to get yourself hanged so Mattie doesn’t go near your fellow.”
“Getting hanged wasn’t in my original plans,” Georgie said dryly.
Jack drummed his fingers on his thigh. “I’ll go to Mattie and warn him. That way if Bow Street decides to check up on your story, they won’t find anything. They’ll think you’re a lunatic or that you’re mad for attention. We’ll get you out of prison and then figure out Brewster afterwards.”
“But what about Lawrence?”
“Bugger your Lawrence. He’s an earl. He can fend for himself. Besides, Mattie’s going to be pretty clear on the fact that you aren’t in Cornwall. He won’t have any reason to go there.”
“What about you and Sarah?” Georgie felt a wash of hot shame sweep over him as he admitted to his brother that he had put him and their sister in danger.
“I can take care of myself. As soon as Sarah got back in town, I stationed one of my men outside her shop, and so far Brewster hasn’t shown up.”
That was hardly reassuring, and they both knew it. Especially now that Brewster knew Georgie had returned. So much for this plan, Georgie thought. Now he was going to molder in prison while Brewster did as he pleased. And if he did get set free, he had only one recourse: he’d have to go directly to Brewster.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Lawrence glanced again at the scrap of paper he had carried in his pocket all the way from Penkellis. It was creased and soft from having been clenched in his fist.
“Are you quite sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Lady Standish asked again when Lawrence made no move to exit the carriage.
“You and Simon go see the lions at the Tower,” Lawrence insisted. “Keep an eye on Courtenay.” As bizarre as it was to see Courtenay play the part of a doting uncle, Lawrence had yet to see anything less than proper in the man’s conduct. Still, having Lady Standish there might curb any stray impulse on Courtenay’s part to revert to bad habits and wander into the nearest brothel.
They had arrived in London in the middle of the night. Lady Standish had insisted that they all stay at her home, and Lawrence had been too weary to protest. He scooped Simon up in his arms to carry him upstairs, and the next thing he remembered was waking in an unfamiliar room. Moments later, a pair of servants had arrived with a bath and pitchers of steaming water.
