"It is my home too," she said sweetly.

Here things began to grow delicate. I had long since come to suspect that Miss Dogmill might not be, let us say, the most scrupulous guardian of her virtue, and though I was never a man to resist the allure of Venus, I had taken far too great a liking to her to allow her to compromise herself with me while I remained in disguise. I certainly had no intentions of revealing to her my true name, but I feared that if I rejected her proposal I might seem to her something overly principled or, perhaps worse, uninterested in her charms. What could I do but acquiesce to her offer?

We retired at once to the parlor, and after her maid brought us a decanter of wine we were soon left alone entirely. A rich blaze roared in the fireplace, and two of the sconces of the room had been lit, but we were still largely veiled in shadow. I had cautiously taken a seat across from Miss Dogmill, who sat on a sofa, and I lamented that I could not very well see her lovely eyes as we spoke.

"I have recently learned that you paid a visit to my brother at his goose pull," she said to me.

"It was perhaps not the least provocative thing I've ever done," I admitted.

"You are a mystery, sir. You are a Tory, yet you seek the help of a great Whig when you arrive in our city. Then, rebuffed by him, perhaps unkindly, you attend him when he is certain to find your attendance infuriating."

"Does my having done so anger you?" I asked.

She laughed. "No, it amuses me. I love my brother, and he has always been kind to me, but I know he is not always kind to other people: poor Mr. Hertcomb, for instance, whom he treats like a drunken butler. I cannot but smile at seeing a man who does not hesitate to stand up to him. But it puzzles me as well."

"I cannot fully account for my whims," I said by way of explanation. "Taking upon myself the defense of that goose seemed to me, at that moment, the right thing to do. My doing so does not mean that I would not sit down for supper and eat the better part of a goose with great relish."

"Do you know, Mr. Evans," she said to me, "that you speak of yourself less than any man I have met?"

"How can you say so? Have I not, just this moment, expounded my opinions on goose and man?"

"You surely have, but I am far more interested in the man than I am the goose."

"I do not wish to chatter on about myself. Not when there is someone as interesting as yourself in the room. I should very much like to know more about you than hear myself speak of what I know so well."

"I have told you of my life. But you have been very withholding. I know nothing of your family, your friends, your life in Jamaica. Most men who make their living from the land love to talk of their estates and their holdings, but you have said nothing. Why, if I were to ask you the size of your plantation, I doubt you should even be able to tell me."

I forced a laugh. "You are surely unique of all the ladies I have known, madam, in wanting to be taxed with tedious knowledge."

Miss Dogmill said nothing for a moment. She then took a drink of her wine and slowly set down the goblet. I could hear the soft tap of the silver base against the wood. "Tell me the truth. Why did you call on my brother?" she asked at last, her voice heavy and somber. Something, I knew, had changed.

I tried hard to show that I saw nothing alarming in her tone. "I have thought to make myself a purchasing agent for Jamaica tobacco," I said, repeating the oft-told lie, "and I had hoped your brother would provide some guidance."

"I very much doubt he would do that."

"As it turns out, your doubts would have served me well had I known of them prior to my visit."

"But the results of your calling upon Mr. Dogmill cannot have surprised you. My brother's reputation as a ruthless businessman must extend to the West Indies. There is not a farmer in Virginia who does not fear his grasp. Do you mean to say you had never heard him to be ungenerous in these regards? Surely there was some other purchasing agent, some smaller fellow, who would have made a superior mentor."

"I wished to go to the most powerful," I said hastily, "for your brother's success testifies to his skill."

I thought she would press me now with another hard question, but I found I was mistaken. "I can hardly see you over there," she said. "Not even when I lean forward."

As it is so dark, I should have said, I should have said, I ought to make my way home. I ought to make my way home. But I did not say that. Instead, I said, "Then I must join you on your sofa." But I did not say that. Instead, I said, "Then I must join you on your sofa."

And that is what I did. I moved next to Miss Dogmill, feeling the delicious warmth of her body as we sat only inches apart. I had hardly settled before I made bold to take her hand in mine. It was as though my higher self had become frozen inside me, and my baser instincts ruled my actions. The urge to feel her skin against mine silenced all other voices inside me. "I have longed to hold your hand in mine all evening," I said. "Since the moment I first saw you."

She said nothing, but she did not take her hand away either. Even in the dark, I observed an amused smile.

I had hoped for more encouragement, but I was willing to make do with none. "Miss Dogmill, I must tell you that you are the most beautiful young lady I have met in these many ages. You are charming and vivacious and lovely in all regards."

Here she allowed herself a laugh. "I must take that as a sound compliment," she said, "for you have a reputation as a man well acquainted with the ladies."

I felt my heart pound in my chest. "I? A reputation? I have hardly been on these sh.o.r.es long enough for such a thing."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she said nothing. Instead she leaned forward-yes, she she leaned forward, and kissed me. Soon I had my arms around her sweet form, as we gave ourselves over to the delicious lure of pa.s.sion. All of my determination to keep my distance from her was forgotten, and I cannot say to what degree we would have lost ourselves had not two things happened that cut short our delights. leaned forward, and kissed me. Soon I had my arms around her sweet form, as we gave ourselves over to the delicious lure of pa.s.sion. All of my determination to keep my distance from her was forgotten, and I cannot say to what degree we would have lost ourselves had not two things happened that cut short our delights.

The second, and less troubling of the two, was that the door burst open and Mr. Dogmill, along with a half dozen or so of his friends, entered the room with their blades drawn.

The first was that, in the very instant before our privacy was so utterly shattered by Dogmill and his bravos, Miss Dogmill broke off her kiss and whispered something in my ear. She said, "I know who you are, Mr. Weaver."

It was unfortunate timing, in more ways than one, that led Dennis Dogmill and his friends to break open the room at that instant, for I could not but conclude that all of this had been an elaborate trap. Having been lost in the pleasing fog of pa.s.sion, I lamented that I was now in a position of having to strike dead this lady's brother if I did not wish to be returned to Newgate.

I leaped to my feet and searched the room for a weapon sufficient to fend off so many men, but found nothing.

"Get away from my sister, Evans," Dogmill spat at me.

Evans. He called me He called me Evans. Evans. He was not here to drag Benjamin Weaver to prison. He was here only to protect his sister's honor. I breathed a sigh of relief, for it looked far less likely that I would have to seriously harm anyone. He was not here to drag Benjamin Weaver to prison. He was here only to protect his sister's honor. I breathed a sigh of relief, for it looked far less likely that I would have to seriously harm anyone.

"Dear G.o.d, Denny!" Miss Dogmill shouted. "What are you doing here?"

"Be quiet. I'll have plenty to say to you anon. And don't swear. It is unladylike." He turned to me. "How dare you, sir, think to dishonor my sister in my own home?"

"How did you know he was here?" Grace asked.

"I did not much like the looks he gave you at the a.s.sembly, so I instructed Molly to contact me if he showed his face here. Now," he said to me, "we'll have no more rudeness from you. We are all gentlemen who know how to attend a man who would attempt a rape."

"A rape!" Grace cried out. "Don't be absurd. Mr. Evans has behaved in all ways like a gentleman, here by my invitation and guilty of nothing improper."

"I have not inquired into your opinion of what is proper and what is not," Dogmill told my victim. "A young lady of your age cannot always know when a man is using her ill. You need not worry, Grace. We will deal with him."

"It is very brave of you to face me with only six men at your side," I said. "A less stalwart man would have a full dozen."

"You may quip as you like, but it is I who have the power here, and you have nothing. You ought to thank me for intending to only give you one quarter of the beating you deserve."

"Are you mad?" I asked him, for he had pushed me too far. I knew that the person I pretended to be, Mr. Evans, could respond in only one way. "You may take issue with me if you like, but do so like a gentleman. I will not be treated like a serving boy only because you took the precaution of bringing a small army with you. If you wish to say something to me, say it like a man of honor, and if you wish to take up arms with me, let us do so in Hyde Park, where I will gladly duel with you on the day of your choosing, if you be but man enough to meet me."

"What is this, Dogmill?" one of his friends asked him. "You told me some blackguard was troubling your sister. It looks to me like this gentleman is here at her invitation and should be treated with more respect."

"Be silent," Dogmill hissed at his companion, but such arguments failed to hold sway. There were murmurs of agreement from the others.

"I resent this, Dogmill," the friend said again. "I was running a swimming hand at ombre when you dragged me from the card table. It's a scurvy thing to lie to a man and say things about sisters in trouble when there are no sisters in trouble at all."

Dogmill spat in the man's face. This was no trickle of moisture either, but a ma.s.sive and agglutinated catch of sputum. It landed with an almost comical slap. The friend wiped it away with the sleeve of his coat, turned a rich shade of plum, but said nothing more.

Miss Dogmill held herself straight and folded her arms across her chest. "Stop spitting on your friends like a schoolboy and apologize to Mr. Evans," she said sternly, "and perhaps he will forgive this outrage."

I looked over at Mr. Dogmill and showed him my most winsome smile. I did it, of course, to mock him. I knew he found himself in a bind. Any man of grit would challenge me to a duel now, but I already knew he would not risk anything so scandalous until after the election.

Dogmill looked like a cat cornered by a salivating hound. He turned this way and that. He tried to think his way out of his trouble, but nothing came to mind.

"Get out. I'll settle our account once the election is resolved."

I grinned once more. "Well, I should be a rascal to be unsatisfied with an apology so kindly rendered," I told the room, "so I shall accept Mr. Dogmill's words in the good spirit he intended them. Now, perhaps you gentlemen would leave so that Miss Dogmill and I can be alone once more."

Only she, I should observe, laughed at my quip. All of Dogmill's friends appeared mortified, and Mr. Dogmill's muscles tightened so that he nearly collapsed on the floor with a seizure.

"Or," I proposed, "it might be best if I were to come back some other time, for the hour is rather late." I bowed to the lady and told her I hoped I should see her again soon. With that, I walked to the door and the crowd of men parted before me.

I had to make my own way from the parlor to the front door, and in doing so I pa.s.sed a pretty little serving girl with sprightly green eyes. "Are you Molly?" I asked her.

She nodded dumbly.

I pressed a pair of shillings into her hand. "The same will be yours the next time you are supposed to inform Mr. Dogmill of my presence but neglect to do so."

I looked this way and that but saw no hackneys, and I could hardly expect Dogmill to volunteer his man to run one down for me, but I turned to reenter the house and request just that service. As I turned, however, I found myself facing Dogmill, who had followed me outside. looked this way and that but saw no hackneys, and I could hardly expect Dogmill to volunteer his man to run one down for me, but I turned to reenter the house and request just that service. As I turned, however, I found myself facing Dogmill, who had followed me outside.

"Don't make the mistake of thinking me a coward," he said. "I should have fought with you on any terms to let you defend what you have the impudence to call your honor, but I cannot risk any action that might reflect badly on Mr. Hertcomb, with whom I am so nearly a.s.sociated. When this election is complete, you may depend upon my calling for you. In the meantime, I suggest you keep your distance from my sister."

"And if I choose not to, how will you punish me? With another threat of a duel six weeks hence?" I cannot easily express the pleasure I took in making his outrage even more exquisite.

He took a step closer to me, no doubt with the intent of intimidating me with his great size. "Do you think to test me, sir? I may be shy of a public duel, but I will not be shy of putting my foot to your a.r.s.e right here."

"I like your sister, sir, and I shall call upon her for as long as she wishes me to. I will not hear your objections, and I will tolerate no more rudeness from you."

I think perhaps I overplayed my part, because I next found myself at the foot of the stairs, in the wet street muck, looking up at Dogmill, who nearly smiled at my embarra.s.sing position. An aching jaw and the coppery taste of blood in my mouth told me where I had been struck, and I ran my tongue along my teeth to satisfy myself that nothing had been knocked loose.

Here, at least, was some good news, for all remained properly affixed. Nevertheless, I was startled by the speed rather than the force of Dogmill's blow. I knew him to be a strong man, and I could not but believe he had chosen to reserve some of the power he unleashed against me. I had taken many such blows during my days as a pugilist, and I knew a man who could deliver a punch so quickly-so quickly I had not even seen it coming-could have deployed far more force than Dogmill had put into his attack. He toyed with me. Or he dared not risk killing me, perhaps. He thought me a wealthy trader, and he could not so easily escape the law should he murder me the way he did beggars and paupers.

It was Dogmill's strength that presented the greatest challenge to me. Were he a weaker man, a man whom I believed I could best easily, I would have had no difficulty in walking away from a fight. I would tell myself it was the right decision and think no more of it. It was the knowledge that he could, most likely, defeat me that made my decision more difficult, for more than anything I wished to return the blow, to challenge him like a man of grit. I knew I would hate myself for turning coward. I would lie awake at night and think of how I should have or might have or wished I could have answered his challenge. But I could not do it. I told myself I could not do it. I dared not risk revealing myself to Dogmill.

I sat up and stared at him for a moment. "You have taken liberties," I said at last, through a stiff jaw.

"Chastise me if you will," he answered I d.a.m.ned him in silence, for he knew I would not stand up to him like a man. "My time will come," I said, attempting to drown my shame in thoughts of vengeance.

"Your time has come and gone," he told me. He turned his back and returned to his house.

CHAPTER 19.

GRACE KNEW who I was. I cannot say if this revelation was more a distress or a relief, for I had at least the comfort of no longer having to lie to her. But how had she known me, and what did she intend to do now that she had discovered my true name? Fortunately, it was she who saved me from the torment of wonder, for I received from her the next morning a note inquiring if I would like to join her on the canva.s.s. I knew nothing of how these things were ordered, and my innate curiosity would have compelled even if other circ.u.mstances had not. I wrote back at once, indicating my eager agreement. who I was. I cannot say if this revelation was more a distress or a relief, for I had at least the comfort of no longer having to lie to her. But how had she known me, and what did she intend to do now that she had discovered my true name? Fortunately, it was she who saved me from the torment of wonder, for I received from her the next morning a note inquiring if I would like to join her on the canva.s.s. I knew nothing of how these things were ordered, and my innate curiosity would have compelled even if other circ.u.mstances had not. I wrote back at once, indicating my eager agreement.

My jaw was tender from Dogmill's blow, but miraculously it was not swollen or discolored, so I saw no reason to decline the invitation. At nearly eleven, a coach arrived covered in the blue-and-orange streamers of Mr. Hertcomb's campaign. If I thought, however, that I should find myself alone in that coach with Miss Dogmill, I was sadly mistaken, for it was that worthy, Mr. Hertcomb himself, who arose from the coach and met me with something less than good cheer. According to the letter of the law, he ought to be on the hustings each day for the duration of the polling, but in Westminster, where the election lasted for so long, no one insisted that the candidates endure such a hardship, and many men were known to make only brief appearances daily.

Inside the coach I found Miss Dogmill, adorned in a lovely gown of orange and blue colors. I sat across from her and offered her a thin smile. The grin she returned me was hearty and amused. She was possessed of my secrets, and I would have done anything to hear what she had to say, but I would have to wait-and she loved making me do so.

The equipage had only just begun to rumble along when Hertcomb, straining under the weight of his confusion, turned to me. "I must say, sir, I am startled to see you wish to join us."

"And why should that surprise you?" I asked, somewhat startled by his tone.

"You do remain a Tory, do you not?"

"I have had no conversion," I said.

"And a supporter of Mr. Melbury?"

"So long as he stands for the Tories."

"Then why should you wish to join us? You don't mean to do any mischief, I hope."

"None," I promised him. "I join you because I wish you well, Mr. Hertcomb, and because Miss Dogmill asked me to join your outing. You, yourself, have said that party is not all to a man. Besides which, when a lady as amiable as Miss Dogmill makes a request, it takes a foolish man to decline."

Hertcomb was in no way satisfied with this answer, but as none other was forthcoming, he made do with it as best he could. I did not like his new spirit of confrontation, and I could only imagine that he was caught between conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he wished more than anything for me to continue defying Dogmill. On the other, he wished I would leave Dogmill's sister to his own ineffectual attempts. Our coach, meanwhile, had turned onto c.o.c.kspur Street, and I observed that we were headed in the direction of Covent Garden.

"How do you determine the location of the canva.s.s?" I asked.

"That is a good question," Hertcomb said, his tone lighter now that his curiosity had been aroused. "How do do they do that?" they do that?"

Miss Dogmill smiled like a lady's painting instructor. "My brother, as you know, is managing Mr. Hertcomb's election, so he coordinates with his underlings the names and addresses of the voters in Westminster."

"But there must be near ten thousand of them. Surely, each voter does not receive a visit."

"Surely, each voter does," she said. "Ten thousand visits are not so many when the election campaign lasts six weeks and there are dozens of canva.s.sers willing to encourage each to do his bit for his country. Westminster is not a country borough where these things can simply be directed by the landowners. We require action here."

I had long heard of such things, of the great men and squires of the counties telling their tenants how to vote. Renters who defied orders were often forced off their land and pauperized. Once or twice the suggestion of secret voting had been raised in Parliament, but this notion had always been shot down immediately. What did it say of British liberty, the men of the Commons demanded, if a man were afraid to say publicly whom he supports?

"It is hard to believe that so many are willing to give up their time to the cause," I said.

"And why should that be so hard to be believe?" Hertcomb asked me, perhaps a little insulted.

"I only mean that politics is a very particular thing-in which people seem interested largely in their own gain."

"You are a cynic, sir. Can it not be that they are interested in the Whig cause?"

"And what is the Whig cause, if I may ask?"

"I see no point in arguing this matter with you," he said irritably.

"I do not seek a quarrel. I am most interested in hearing what const.i.tutes the Whig cause. From my perspective, it appears to be little more than protecting the privileges of new men with new money and standing in the way of anything that would suggest there is more to seek than to enrich oneself at the cost of the world. If there is a more fundamental ideology that the party rests upon, I should very much like to know it."