Chapter 1 #2
“Thank you , Branok,” Lord Blackstone said, lacing his fingers on his desk and leaning back. “So what is next for you? Rest, I trust?”
“Not quite. I have been requested by an acquaintance, Mr. Chumley, to join an excursion across England over the coming months. We leave this morning.”
“Indeed? The very wilds of England. How ever shall you manage such excitement?”
Henry laughed, thinking Lord Blackstone had made a joke, but he realized all too late the viscount did not possess the wit. Instead, his wide, round eyes were as blank as the rabbit perched behind him.
Henry cleared his throat. “Oh, well, I…That is to say, I shall take it day by day, I suppose.”
That wasn’t too far from the truth. He’d spent the last five years exploring Greenland, Europe, South Africa, the Americas, the East Indies, and now the West Indies. He’d experienced nearly every sort of weather, observed countless animals and peculiar birds, and witnessed vast cultures.
And now…now, for the first time he would be crossing England with a group of inexperienced individuals who merely dabbled in observation.
He would either be terribly bored or entirely unfit to lead such rabble. Only time would tell.
“I must take my leave now,” Henry continued. “I fear I am already late.”
“Oh, but of course. Allow me to see you out.”
“No, please?—”
“I insist.”
Henry hid a grimace, knowing what was coming next.
“While we’re walking, I may as well point out my latest additions,” Lord Blackstone predictably said. “Although, you might have already noticed them on your way in.”
“I did notice quite a few specimens, my lord,” he responded mutedly.
As they walked through the doorway and entered the gallery, Lord Blackstone placed an arm around Henry’s shoulders—or attempted to, at least, as Henry was more than a head taller than him.
“Now,” the viscount continued, “I know you are partial to living animals, but I shall convert you to my collection yet. Have you seen my weasel? Oh, she is a remarkable creature. Now, where is she?”
He led the way forward, talking to himself as he moved through the different animals, and Henry followed him with barely restrained repulsion.
Soon, however, footsteps sounded down the corridor, and Mr. Sebastian Drake appeared at the other end.
Praise heaven. Henry was saved.
“Drake!” Lord Blackstone cried out, releasing Henry as he faced the other gentleman. “You have arrived in the perfect moment. I was just about to show Branok my lovely weasel. Have you seen her?”
“I have indeed been granted that very distinct pleasure, my lord,” Mr. Drake responded.
Henry snatched up his chance to leave before it could be taken from him.
“I must see these arrive at the printers,” Henry said, lifting the satchel and backing away with a bow. “Good day.”
“Oh, but of course. Good day, Branok. Now, Drake. Come. I have found her. Oh, no. That is not a weasel. That is a marten. I know she must be nearby.”
He continued mumbling to himself as he searched through his countless animals, and Henry reached Mr. Drake.
“Branok,” Mr. Drake greeted. “How were the West Indies?”
“Stifling.” He lowered his voice so the still-muttering Lord Blackstone could not hear. “But preferable to this gallery.”
Mr. Drake chuckled. “How long have you been trapped here with him?” he asked from the side of his mouth.
“Thankfully only a moment before you arrived. But I’m afraid you shall have to suffer with tales of his weasel now.”
“I’ll manage,” Mr. Drake responded, though he looked at the viscount with impatience before glancing back at Henry. “Care for a game of billiards later?”
Henry clicked his tongue in disappointment. “I do wish I could, but I am slated for another expedition.”
“Gads, man,” Mr. Drake said, “do you never rest?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“I know she’s around here somewhere,” Lord Blackstone said from behind Henry.
The man’s eyes focused on the ceiling where the birds hung. Why he’d find a weasel flying with the stagnant fowl was beyond Henry.
He faced Mr. Drake again. “I shall return next month for a week or two, though. We can meet then?”
“Yes, fine. I’ll be here for the entirety of the Season.”
Henry nodded. He didn’t know much about Mr. Drake, but he assumed he was in London for the same reason as the rest of the single gentlemen—they were all in search of a wife.
Henry, however, was the furthest from even wishing to find a wife. He’d almost been coerced into marrying a woman before, but when he’d returned from Greenland, she’d already married another.
It was just as well. Henry hadn’t really liked her anyway. Besides, he did not want a wife to leave at home—a wife who pined for him or whom he pined for while he was away. It wouldn’t be fair for either of them.
At any rate, Lord Blackstone had made it clear that, should Henry ever marry, the excursions, the personal guides, and the connections with the printers would be eliminated.
“I shall keep you and your attentions for as long as possible, Branok,” Lord Blackstone had said.
“And if you marry, I shall be the first in line to congratulate you. However, I cannot fund excursions for a distracted gentleman, and there is no one more distracted than a married man. Take it from me.”
Henry had taken his advisement under careful consideration.
He’d attempted to carry out his own excursion six years ago to India, but the costs to travel had been extortionate, and obtaining the proper permissions as well as finding the right guides, accommodations, and crew members, had been impossible.
Not only did the viscount have extensive wealth, but he also had an astonishing amount of connections.
From the start, he had been able to consistently provide Henry with knowledgeable locals as guides, a safe and swift passage to each country, permits to travel, and a dependable way to publish his volumes of work.
In short, Henry had seen more birds with Lord Blackstone’s aid than he ever could have on his own.
As such, he had decided that he would remain single until he was finished traveling—which would be on his deathbed.
So if he found a woman interested in an old, decrepit gentleman with less hair than the lifeless naked mole rat standing at his right, then certainly, he would marry.
Until then, he was quite content to be a bachelor. He had a comfortable living, a fine steward caring for his large estate in Kent, maintained good health, and his parents, God rest their souls, were surely looking down on him in delight for their son was truly living the best life he could.
He was happy, so why would he change a thing?
“Ah ha! I have found her! Come, Drake, come!” Lord Blackstone waved his hands toward him, his eyes fixed on the animal as if he feared the dead creature might scamper away and be lost to him again.
“I am beckoned,” Mr. Drake said, then with a nod in departure to Henry, he walked toward the viscount.
Henry, on the other hand, left directly. He would not have to return to the gallery—or the club itself, for that matter—for over a month, and he wasn’t upset about it in the slightest.
Until he returned, he was determined to enjoy himself around his own country.
Even if he was destined to be bored or was truly unqualified to teach about the birds in England, this would be more of a rest than tramping across jungles in sweltering heat or being tossed about for weeks at a time across the Atlantic.
He’d even heard that women had been invited on this excursion. He’d never seen a woman take up bird observing before. That alone would be entertaining.
At least more entertaining than a club full of dead animals.