Forester now rose. “Sir, I can endure no more of this.”
Ellershaw shrugged. “Leave if you like.”
Forester looked at Thurmond and then at Ellershaw. He made no effort to look upon me. Eyes down, in the perfect manner of a coward, he accepted Ellershaw’s invitation and went out of the room.
Ellershaw returned the poker to the fire and walked back to the table. He poured a glass of wine for Mr. Thurmond and then one for himself. Taking his seat, he raised the glass. “To our new partnership, sir.”
Thurmond did not move.
“Drink the toast,” Ellershaw said. “It would be the prudent thing to do.”
Perhaps it was this gesture of kindness, no matter how grotesque, but something seemed to have shifted. Thurmond reached out for his glass and, refraining from raising it in a toast, he pressed it to his lips and drank greedily.
I must admit I felt some grave disappointment in his cowardice. Yes, he was an old man and scared, but how I wished he had summoned the courage to defy Mr. Ellershaw, to bring the matter to a head. I would refuse to harm the fellow, and perhaps that would have broken the ties between me and this brute.
“Now,” Ellershaw said, after a moment of uncomfortable silence, “I believe our business is done here. You mentioned something of wanting to depart. You may now do so.”
Recognizing a cue when I heard one, I returned to my seat and, somehow managing to keep my arm steady, drank greedily from my own glass.
Thurmond pushed himself to his feet, and was surprisingly steady. I expected a man of his age, so shocked as he must have been, to tremble prodigiously, but he appeared only mildly confused. He placed a hand upon the doorknob, looked back at Ellershaw, who waved him away with a flick of the wrist, and then he was gone.
I turned to Ellershaw, hoping for-I hardly know what-some sort of shame, I suppose. Instead I received a smile. “That went rather well, I think.”
I said nothing. I attempted to have a look of no particular meaning upon my face.
“You judge my actions, do you, Weaver? A man of action like you? A hero of the pitched battle?”
“I do not know that the threats you have employed are in your own best interests,” I managed.
“Not my best interests?” he answered with a sneer. “You are my club to wield, sir, not my master that I must answer to you. The Court of Proprietors meeting is upon me soon enough, and my enemies will attempt to destroy me. They have something planned. I know they do, and if I don’t affect some change in the nature of things, I shall be quite ruined at Craven House. What is that against the rectum of an old man?”
Here was a question I felt best to consider of a rhetorical nature.
He nodded his head a single time, acknowledging my silence as accord. “Now off with you. I presume you can discover your own way out. And do take the back way, Weaver. I suspect my guests have had quite enough of you for one night.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IT STOOD TO REASON THAT THURMOND REQUIRED A BIT OF TIME TO collect himself before joining his wife, and I imagined he would have wandered off to some dark corner to stop shaking before cheerfully announcing his plans to depart. I, meanwhile, had been instructed to circumvent the parlor and make my way out. But to where?
It occurred to me rather alarmingly that Thurmond might not have been convinced to eschew a magistrate. It was certainly true that a justice would hesitate to pursue charges against a man of Ellershaw’s stature, but it was possible, I thought, he might choose to pursue charges against me. He could, in fact, swear that I had gone rogue and threatened him independently. If I were Thurmond, I would consider such an action, if only as a means to regain my dignity.
It would be prudent, I thought, to follow the man and make certain he went home and not to a magistrate. To that end, I realized I must find my way out and then lurk in the darkness until gaining access to Thurmond’s chaise.
I could only hope that Thurmond required more time for self-collection than I did for navigation, because it soon became apparent that I was lost in Ellershaw’s massive home. Indeed, after several wrong turns through amply lit but deserted hallways, I began to grow anxious that I would miss my chance entirely to trail my prey.
However, after another fruitless turn I heard voices, which I approached with a great deal of caution lest I be discovered by the wrong person-I had Thurmond in mind, principally. I therefore stepped quietly on the balls of my feet, making as little noise as possible as I approached a nearly closed door from which I heard the voices I now identified as whispers. As I grew closer I understood them to be two voices, a man’s and a woman’s, but it was only when I came close enough to peer inside that I saw it was Mr. Forester and Mrs. Ellershaw, wrapped in an embrace, speaking in the hushed, hurried tones of secret lovers. She nuzzled her head into the nape of his neck while he explained that it was with the greatest sadness that he must depart.
This discovery, I believed, explained a great deal-certainly the animosity I perceived from both Forester and Mrs. Ellershaw. They could not but suspect that Mr. Ellershaw had obtained the services of a man skilled in drawing out secrets because he wished their own secret divined. I could not yet think how, but I felt I might be able to turn this new information to my advantage.
I examined the halls in both directions, preparing to make my departure, when Forester happened to turn in my direction. I could perceive no reason why he should have done it; rather, it was one of those unfortunate coincidences that can so upturn the life a man who dwells in secrecy and dark corners.
Forester turned and his eyes met mine. “Weaver,” he breathed. “I knew it.”
Having no reason to crouch like a sneak thief, I rose to my full height and approached boldly. I should hate for Thurmond to escape, but I would manage one matter at a time, and I should be foolish to let this beast unsnare itself because I hoped for better prey.
Forester, it was true, was a man of greater height than myself, and he attempted to use his stature to intimidating advantage, but I detected at once that he was not a man of action and he would make no efforts on my person. He merely wished to make me fear him. “Get inside the room,” he hissed.
I obeyed with the easy air of a man who does the most agreeable thing he can imagine. Indeed, I stepped in, closed the door, and bowed most civilly. “I am ready to hear your commands.”
“Don’t play the jackanapes with me, sir. I can see you were sneaking about like the thief you are. And what now? Shall you go tell your master what you’ve seen? Shall you bring down upon this dear woman misery and shame and tyranny? And for what? Your thirty pieces of silver? I suppose that is the way with your kind.”
“Perhaps if you refrain from spewing slurs against my people,” I proposed, “you will dissuade me from my course.”
“I know you shan’t be dissuaded, so I shall spew what I like. That silk suit hides neither your beastly nature nor your uncouth experience, so I see no cause to treat with you like a gentleman. Think not I have any wish to berate you. I speak only so that when you hear of this lady’s suffering, you will know yourself the cause, and I can only hope you will acquit yourself like your countryman Judas and take your own life.”
“While I hesitate to deprive you of the joy of abusing my nature, my nation, and my appearance, I must inform you that Mr. Ellershaw has not asked me to discover anything of you. Indeed, I was told to show myself out, but as this is a large house, I lost my way and merely stumbled upon you by unhappy accident.” I stopped short of promising to keep secrets, for I did not wish to remove the ball from the pistol just yet-if at all.
“Of course he isn’t here about you,” Mrs. Ellershaw snapped. She stepped forward. Though she was somewhat shorter than myself, she cut a more imposing figure than her paramour. She held herself erect, her bosoms thrust out, her chin high, her face radiant with color. Indeed, she squared her shoulders in the style of more than one fighter I’ve known from the ring. “Tell us the truth, Mr. Weaver,” she said, her voice hard and angry. “You have no interest in Mr. Forester whatsoever?”