Nico happened to be wearing his particularly charming waistcoat of gold shot with flame. He tried not to glance down.
All in all, it was a glorious day. A day of friendship, companionship, interesting sights, and uncomplicated pleasures; a day in which a man could forget quite how much money he owed and what he was doing to get it.
“That was wonderful,” Titus said as they walked back. “It makes me think that I should like to see the real things. To visit Venice, or even Egypt, and see if kanguroos can possibly be like that, and—”
“Not the boa constrictor,” Nico said firmly. “We do not seek out snakes.”
“They aren’t venomous,” Titus pointed out. “Well, they wouldn’t have to be, at that size; they could just eat you whole.”
“That is not an improvement. As for kanguroos, one can quite easily secure a free passage to see them in Australia.”
“Not a comfortable one, though,” Titus said, grinning. “Would you not like to see them for yourself?”
“If only to believe it. So you would like to travel?”
“I don’t honestly know if I would like it,” Titus admitted. “I have never been anywhere. I should like to say,Of course I will go to Venice and Egypt and see kanguroos, but then, I thought I wanted to go into Society, and bit off far more than I could chew.”
“It is not the same. For one thing, money will not buy you new friends or a place in the Ton, but it will buy you a comfortable journey and a competent guide.”
“True. But if one doesn’t speak the language—no, that is what a guide is for. I’m being cowardly. It’s just that travelling seems like such a… alargething to do, so unpredictable, with so much that might go wrong. That must seem ridiculous to you.”
“Not at all. I have had some remarkable things go wrong when I travelled. Why do you not test the waters? Tour England first, for example, to see if you enjoy the process. Like…” Nico had no idea where one went to see English sights.
“The Lake District, and the Peak District,” Titus supplied. “They are meant to be very beautiful. Mr. Raven always buys—bought—my paints when he comes to London. A very highly regarded painter of the Peaks,” he added for Nico’s benefit.
“Those are in the north, yes?” Nico hazarded. “Perhaps, then, a trip to avoid the summer heat?”
“I could. Yes, I really could, couldn’t I? Goodness. This is what money actually buys.”
“Holiday?”
“Freedom. Freedom from needs, freedom to look around and take time, freedom to see the world, and expand one’s horizons, and do what you want, rather than what you’re obliged to. Which is marvellous, but also a little alarming. There is so muchchoice.”
“Have you ever watched a butterfly emerge from its cocoon?” Nico asked.
“As a boy. Why?”
“The wings always come out crumpled, mon ami. You will get used to it.”
“I suppose I will. And then I shall do the things I want to do, as soon as I find out what they are.”
“You are not used to pursuing what you want?”
“I wanted my shop,” Titus said thoughtfully. “Something all of my own that nobody could take from me felt like the most important thing in the world, and I worked very hard to get it. But it didn’t leave a great deal of time for pursuing anything else.”
“No love affairs?” Nico was compelled to ask.
Titus blushed delightfully. “Oh, well, one or two. Nothing terribly exciting, until—” He paused, then spoke with a touch of deliberation. “And, you know, that didnotprove to be something I wanted. Quite the reverse. That worries me a little because I thought I wanted—that person, just as I thought I wanted to mix in Society. It makes one a little unsure of one’s judgement.”
Nico wasn’t sure he’d ever considered any decision as much as Titus considered all of them. “Well, you have no need to hurry into anything,” he said. “Money also buys time.”
Jacky Gaskin’s money had certainly put a lien on Eve’s time, and a clock on Nico’s. He hated that. He wanted to be part of Titus’s holiday without other concerns, and he wanted to be the master of his own decisions again, speaking without fear of slipping, and not hesitating to make an approach to anyone he might have an increasing urge to kiss.
The next day, Titus felt like art, and decided to visit the Royal Academy Exhibition, Devonshire House, and perhaps Mr. Angerstein’s collection of paintings. Nico left him to it. That was more art than he cared to see by some way, and he had his own painting to deal with.
He took it to Mr. George Rankin, whose fascination and admiration were clear. Nico repeated his lavish account of its provenance; his tragic, misguided, betrayed mother; and his fear of persecution under the restored French monarchy. Rankin swallowed the lot, expressed his lascivious admiration of Marie Antoinette in a manner that made Nico feel slightly unwell, and offered him nine hundred pounds for it.
Nine hundred pounds. A fucking fortune, and not nearly enough. Nico thought briefly of taking the money and making a payment on account, but there would only be more interest, more late fees. Jacky Gaskin didn’t need any individual payment nearly so much as he needed people to be terrified of not paying him back.