wakens."
Big Tom considered it for a moment. "Aye, if I was ter tarry a bit, mebbe she'll come 'round enough ter save me the trouble," he decided, brightening. "Got twelve stone ter her, she does."
"And I'd not waste the stuff on the table, you hear? Like I told her, 'tis the best to be had."
With that, he ducked out, leaving Big Tom with the coin. For a long moment the manservant hesitated, then he went back to the dim corner where Maddie slept. Torn between spending his guinea or pocketing it, he took a seat. She wouldn't care, he decided, or if she did, she was too gone from the drug to know it. Reaching beneath her arm, he helped himself to what was left of the pressed opium cake, scarce bothering to cut it with the sugar.
It had been a satisfying morning in the Bailey, ending with a decision not to bind Patrick's client over for trial. Dodging a chagrined Ned Milton, Patrick emerged into crisp autumn air. Without waiting for the privacy of a hackney, he tore off his barrister's wig and loosened the neck of his robe. "Hamilton!"
Patrick spun around as Bartholomew Rand hailed him, then waited, forcing a smile. The older man approached hurriedly, puffing from the exertion.
"Was waitin' to take you up, sirrah—aye, thought mayhap you'd be a-thirstin' from all the arguments you was making. You was masterful, Mr. Hamilton— masterful. Damme if you didn't have that Milton fellow nigh to apoplexy."
"Thank you. Actually, I was thinking of merely going home for a quick nuncheon," Patrick admitted.
"Aye, you are afeared I mean to disgrace you, ain't you?"
"No, not at all," Patrick lied politely.
"Aye, you are-—I can see it in your face." Rand smiled diffidently. "Didn't make m'fortune without knowin' what folks was thinkin', you know. Cannot blame you though if you was to turn your back on me."
"No, I am merely tired, and my day has scarce begun."
"Well, Em and Ellie would have it as I made a fool of myself the other night. Allowed as though they was mortified, but I was hoping you wouldn't cut the connection," the old man went on. "Was in my cups, that's all."
"You are not the first man to drink too much," Patrick assured him.
"Then you wasn't offended?" Rand asked hopefully. "No."
"Well, then I got just the ticket! Come along to Garraway's—I got me a table there, don't you know? Coffee's good for drowsiness, ain't it? Be a better man in no time." The old man clapped Patrick on the back familiarly. "Got excellent meals at fair prices, if I do say so."
"I have appointments in my office beginning at two."
"Got plenty of time! Carriage's waiting 'round the corner, and I won't be offended if you was to wish to take off your robe in it" When Patrick still hesitated, Rand persisted. "Look, I got to make amends for the other night, don't I? And I owe you for seeing my gel home yesterday-—ain't no telling what was to happen to her if you hadn't come along. Near thing it was, or so she said."
"She told you about it?"
"Course she did! Oh, I ain't saying as we don't disagree mightily on this reformist business, but she's a good gel."
Not knowing if Elise Rand had mentioned Pearl to him, Patrick forbore saying anything more than, "I was happy to oblige."
"Got no business there though—didn't mean you, of course, 'cause you're a man—but I ain't liking for her to be where she might be harmed." As he spoke, the old Cit took Patrick's arm, directing him to the waiting coach. "Been given too free a rein, I guess, but as I only got the one, I been inclined to indulge her, probably more'n is good for a gel, if you want the truth of it But we've been pretty open in the budget with each other, which is good 'cause her mama ain't the sort as understands me or Ellie. M'gel's always come to me when she was in the basket. Not that Mrs. Rand ain't a good woman, mind you,"
he added hastily. "Proud of her—demned proud of her. I think I told you she was a Bingham, didn't I?"
"Yes, I believe you did," Patrick murmured.
"Good
Big Tom considered it for a moment. "Aye, if I was ter tarry a bit, mebbe she'll come 'round enough ter save me the trouble," he decided, brightening. "Got twelve stone ter her, she does."
"And I'd not waste the stuff on the table, you hear? Like I told her, 'tis the best to be had."
With that, he ducked out, leaving Big Tom with the coin. For a long moment the manservant hesitated, then he went back to the dim corner where Maddie slept. Torn between spending his guinea or pocketing it, he took a seat. She wouldn't care, he decided, or if she did, she was too gone from the drug to know it. Reaching beneath her arm, he helped himself to what was left of the pressed opium cake, scarce bothering to cut it with the sugar.
It had been a satisfying morning in the Bailey, ending with a decision not to bind Patrick's client over for trial. Dodging a chagrined Ned Milton, Patrick emerged into crisp autumn air. Without waiting for the privacy of a hackney, he tore off his barrister's wig and loosened the neck of his robe. "Hamilton!"
Patrick spun around as Bartholomew Rand hailed him, then waited, forcing a smile. The older man approached hurriedly, puffing from the exertion.
"Was waitin' to take you up, sirrah—aye, thought mayhap you'd be a-thirstin' from all the arguments you was making. You was masterful, Mr. Hamilton— masterful. Damme if you didn't have that Milton fellow nigh to apoplexy."
"Thank you. Actually, I was thinking of merely going home for a quick nuncheon," Patrick admitted.
"Aye, you are afeared I mean to disgrace you, ain't you?"
"No, not at all," Patrick lied politely.
"Aye, you are-—I can see it in your face." Rand smiled diffidently. "Didn't make m'fortune without knowin' what folks was thinkin', you know. Cannot blame you though if you was to turn your back on me."
"No, I am merely tired, and my day has scarce begun."
"Well, Em and Ellie would have it as I made a fool of myself the other night. Allowed as though they was mortified, but I was hoping you wouldn't cut the connection," the old man went on. "Was in my cups, that's all."
"You are not the first man to drink too much," Patrick assured him.
"Then you wasn't offended?" Rand asked hopefully. "No."
"Well, then I got just the ticket! Come along to Garraway's—I got me a table there, don't you know? Coffee's good for drowsiness, ain't it? Be a better man in no time." The old man clapped Patrick on the back familiarly. "Got excellent meals at fair prices, if I do say so."
"I have appointments in my office beginning at two."
"Got plenty of time! Carriage's waiting 'round the corner, and I won't be offended if you was to wish to take off your robe in it" When Patrick still hesitated, Rand persisted. "Look, I got to make amends for the other night, don't I? And I owe you for seeing my gel home yesterday-—ain't no telling what was to happen to her if you hadn't come along. Near thing it was, or so she said."
"She told you about it?"
"Course she did! Oh, I ain't saying as we don't disagree mightily on this reformist business, but she's a good gel."
Not knowing if Elise Rand had mentioned Pearl to him, Patrick forbore saying anything more than, "I was happy to oblige."
"Got no business there though—didn't mean you, of course, 'cause you're a man—but I ain't liking for her to be where she might be harmed." As he spoke, the old Cit took Patrick's arm, directing him to the waiting coach. "Been given too free a rein, I guess, but as I only got the one, I been inclined to indulge her, probably more'n is good for a gel, if you want the truth of it But we've been pretty open in the budget with each other, which is good 'cause her mama ain't the sort as understands me or Ellie. M'gel's always come to me when she was in the basket. Not that Mrs. Rand ain't a good woman, mind you,"
he added hastily. "Proud of her—demned proud of her. I think I told you she was a Bingham, didn't I?"
"Yes, I believe you did," Patrick murmured.
"Good
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