Chapter 1
The fabric panel marking off his place of business opened so violently that Lord Edward Richard Stone braced himself. Whether for a punch or a shot, he didn’t know. What he knew was that he’d done plenty of things to warrant either option.
“You’ve really landed yourself in the suds now, Dick Stone,” said a familiar voice.
“Gesù, Tobias,” said Lord Edward, patting his lapel to find a stray cheroot. “I’ll not be around to do anything if you scare me to death like that.”
“You skipped buying smokes last week so Tencendor could have an extra bunch of clover,” said Tobias, taking a chair in the former closet that now served as Lord Edward’s office. Outside of the small room, the sounds of Mr. Rymer’s barber shop continued at a low hum.
“Blast,” said Edward, slumping in his seat and tucking away the gazette he’d been reading, mostly for the lonely hearts ads.
While Edward had to confront a crisis without a cheroot, his horse enjoyed the best greenery that his pikestaff could buy.
Born the second son of a marquess, he’d fallen far in his three decades, but at least he could say each tumble had made the hard thud at the end worth it.
“You’re not interested in what they’re saying about you?” asked Tobias.
Lord Edward regarded his friend, an urchin from St Giles. “A seducer of innocents, defiler of wives, stud for money?” He held up his hands in a show of defeat. “There’s no defense against those claims, because they’re true.”
“But they say you’ve taken up with the wife of a baron.”
“Which one?” asked Edward, shrugging and crossing one long leg over the other. “I’ve had several.”
“Baron Dalpole.”
Lord Edward thought back to what he knew about the man: elevated to a barony after heroic service under Wellington at Waterloo, during which he’d lost an eye, if Edward’s memory wasn’t mistaken.
“I don’t recall his wife especially. I’d need to check my notes,” said Edward, reaching for the locked cabinet where he kept files written in code for his breeding business.
“That’s not the important bit,” said Tobias, kicking his chair to get his attention. “They say you pleasured the wife…when she was pregnant.”
Edward jolted up, shocked for the second time that afternoon. “But why would I be breeding a woman already bred?” he asked. “It makes no sense.”
Tobias shook his head, trying to understand the allegations as well.
“I run a good, clean stud business, and I won’t see myself defamed!” ground out Edward. “I’ve made plenty of babies for good families. Who is saying these things?”
“Swells outside the gaming hells, some nobs at Covent Garden bordellos,” replied Tobias, still puzzling over the gossip.
Suddenly, there was yelling from the main hall of the barbershop.
“Is someone getting murdered?” asked Tobias, his face serious as he darted his head out from behind the curtain to look around.
“Just Rymer drawing out a diseased tooth,” said Edward. “Happens several times per day; one gets used to it.”
Tobias nodded his head and pulled out a small flask.
“Now, what’s this?” asked Edward, grabbing the bottle from him. “It doesn’t have any identifiable marks, does it? I know you didn’t buy a piece like this with your wages from me; they’re not nearly high enough.”
Tobias reached for his flask as Edward unscrewed the cap and dumped the contents down his own throat. He looked at his young associate in horror.
“Is that water?”
Tobias took back the bottle and shoved it safely into his smalls beneath his waistband.
“Why would a hobbledehoy want to drink water?” asked Edward, horrified and a little disappointed that he hadn’t found gin inside. He was entirely lacking in the trappings of dissipation today as he dealt with a crisis that could affect his business.
“I happen to like water,” said Tobias stubbornly before drawing forth some penny candy and sharing a piece with Edward. “I get it from a good pump.”
“You’re going to end up yelling as Rymer draws out your teeth if you keep eating this,” said Edward, happily sucking on the lemon drop himself.
“I had a thought on the way over,” said Tobias, playing with his flat cap. “Why are the bucks and bloods talking about this case so much?”
“Dalpole’s wife? Yes, ‘tis strange that they discuss a lady in the breeding state,” said Edward, choosing his words carefully to protect young Tobias, though he’d seen and heard things on the streets Edward couldn’t imagine.
“My mother always boxed my ears if I so much as acknowledged the existence of procreation. God forbid one admit to knowing a lady was enceinte.”
“Perhaps the lady went outside the house too often in her condition?” asked Tobias skeptically. “But why should they be yammering about this in connection with you, when you’ve bedded plenty of ladies? For money.”
Edward and Tobias sucked on their candy and mulled over the problem.
“It seems rather pointless, doesn’t it?” asked Edward.
“How so?”
“Well, if the lady is already breeding, why would a stud be involved?” asked Lord Edward.
“If she’s already got a baby in her belly, she doesn’t need your services,” said Tobias.
“Yes, and why would her husband allow such talk to continue, especially when she’s in a delicate state? It might upset her.”
They listened to the fading screams from the main room of the barbershop while trying to make sense of this conundrum.
“I think I need to pay a call on the Dalpole household and see what I can learn,” said Edward, dusting some clipped hair from his boots and grabbing his hat.