“As intimidating as that sounds, why on earth would I harm him when he owes me money, Mrs. Haddock?” he said matter-of-factly. “How would I collect? I come in peace.”
They stared at each other.
“That makes sense,” Mrs. Haddock allowed, reluctantly.
“I think he’ll speak to me. Can you have someone take this goat back to his usual quarters? He was eating the flowers. I’ll go have a word with his lordship.”
She opened the door with great reluctance, and Marchand stepped inside.
Mrs. Haddock led him up the stairs, and though he was very curious to see where Ginny usually slept, even he knew it would have been extraordinarily untoward to ask. He saw no signs of her sisters. Perhaps they were out doing what fiancées of aristocrats did, tra-la-la-ing through the vast green grounds,making daisy crowns. He didn’t know. He already suspected that he would do anything at all for them, if needed. If Ginny asked.
Hogarth was in shirtsleeves and stockings and leaning precariously back in his chair in the way young men often do, reading a book.
“Mr. Marchand here to see you,” said Mrs. Haddock.
“Oh dear God!” Hogarth shot to his feet and the chair crashed to the floor. “That is, good afternoon, Mr. Marchand. What a pleasant surprise.”
“Good afternoon, Lord Highgrove.” He bowed. “I hope you’ll forgive my intrusion. I don’t want to give the impression that I’m collaring you in your den, as it were.”
“Not at all,” Hogarth said politely, though everything about his posture and expression suggested he was screaming inwardly. Sometimes aristocratic manners amused Marchand.
Marchand turned and stared at Mrs. Haddock until she melted away. Then he closed the door.
“I won’t take up too much of your valuable time.” He said this only a little ironically. “I’m given to understand that you excelled in mathematics and fencing whilst you were at university.”
Hogarth blinked, and hesitated. “Well, I don’t like to boast...”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you could impart this information to another human who is just learning mathematics and fencing?”
Hogarth looked puzzled. “To... you?”
Marchand sighed. For God’s sake. “To a room full of young boys and perhaps girls. Around the ages of nine and ten or so. Some older.”
“Certainly I could. I often tutored other students. I know how to, ah, impart information so that they actually permanently learn it.”
“That’s everything we want out of learning. All right. Perfect. I would like to offer you a job doing that.”
“Er...” Hogarth looked awkward, sympathetic, and regretful, as if he didn’t want to embarrass Marchand by informing him that earls simply didn’t take “jobs.”
“The pupils will be boys and perhaps some girls who are residents of the workhouse at Bethnal Green. And if you perform your duties reliably and consistently for three days per week, for a period of three years, I will forgive your debt to Lucifer’s Fall entirely.”
Hogarth’s breath rushed from him in a shocked gust.
“But, if at any point you shirk your duties, or miss them for any reason other than catastrophic illness, loss of limb, or family death, your debt will be restored in its entirety, and I willnotfail to collect it.”
“But... that’s extraordinarily generous of you, Marchand. How did you... why are you...” Comprehension flared in his face. “Oh. I think I know.”
Gabriel could read very clearly the conclusions Hogarth was drawing about why he was visiting today.
Noneof the Woodvilles had any business gambling.
He admitted to what Hogarth probably already knew. “Perhaps this will come as no surprise to you, but your sister appeared at Lucifer’s Fall and we had a conversation.”
A parade of expressions chased one another across Hogarth’s face. Amusement was definitely one of them. He clearly had a sense for how that conversation had gone with Ginny.