by Agnes Forest
“Ace of Spades,” Sawyer said flatly, laying down the card. The gentleman with no name across the way looked at Sawyer in wonder. There was no reason for him to announce his card so.
Sawyer looked about the gentlemen’s room at Almack’s and everything was a haze. No faces were recognizable and his tea was cold. It was raining outside, and that was just. The water trickled down the latticed windows and reminded Sawyer that life was sad. He had ordered a mince pie because it was the sort of food that he didn’t like, knowing full well that they didn’t serve the dish at Almack’s. Sawyer wished to take every opportunity to add to his misery.
“Queen of Hearts,” Sawyer said, throwing down another card. The other gentleman didn’t know what to make of the disconsolate man that joined him for cards. He shrugged it off and continued with the game.
For Sawyer, the mention of the Queen of Hearts was unfortunate. Even if he had selected the King of Hearts it would have been a disaster, because it all just reminded him of Vivian, and how the whole situation had gone to seed.
“What a vision,” a voice said, and Sawyer turned to find Calvin Cain. It was the last person he wanted to see. The Prince of Darkness would no doubt make the situation ever worse. Sawyer rolled his eyes and returned to his cards.
“Jack of Clubs,” Sawyer said, haphazardly throwing down the card.
“Stop this at once,” the other gentleman protested, not able to stand it any longer. He removed himself from the table and left a place for Calvin Cain, who promptly sat himself.
“When was the last time that you bathed?” Calvin asked.
“I went swimming in my pond the other day,” Sawyer replied.
“You do smack of pond water.”
“Oh, come off it,” Sawyer said in annoyance, straightening his eschewed collar. To be fair, everything about Sawyer was eschewed. His hair reached out all over the place, his waistcoat was buttoned unevenly, he was wearing two different boots, and there was a good chance that his trousers were on backwards. Had the Patronesses seen him, he would have been kicked out.
“I stand to lose twenty pounds because of you,” Calvin said, picking up the cards of the gentleman that had fled. “What a terrible hand.”
“You already won twenty pounds on my behalf, so who cares?” Sawyer said.
“I have never seen you in such a state,” Calvin said. Truly, he had known Sawyer Cook for some time, and he had always come across as a rather steady man. Constant, forward, honest, true. Now the fellow was a shambles. To be honest, it pleased Calvin immensely.
“Oh, you think you’re so superior!” Sawyer cried, and the whole room of gentlemen turned his way. “Joker,” he said in a huff, throwing down the card.
“Sir, there is no game of cards where one is required to name the card and then throw it upon the table.”
“Five of Diamonds,” Sawyer said, throwing down the card in protest. “Jack of all Trades,” he added.
“Sawyer, that is not even a proper card.”
“Sod it,” Sawyer said, throwing down the whole hand and adjusting his hair.
“I knew that this would happen,” Calvin said, leaning back in his chair and drinking the tea of the man who sat there before him. Calvin also noted that the tea was cold.
“Knew that what would happen?” Sawyer asked bitingly.
“Look at you. You’re the very picture of love doing its dirty work,” Calvin said. “It pains me to see it. Even Richard Burbage in Hamlet’s mad scene is poor theatrics in comparison to you.”
“Speak plainly!” Sawyer cried, smashing his fist against the table, and drawing the attention of the other men again. “All this nonsense about love and Richard Burbage is driving me mad.”
Calvin was having the time of his life. Truly, when he was in the presence of perfectly sane gentlemen, Calvin felt rather uneasy. But when he shared the company of those who were a few eggs short of a dozen, he was right in his element.
“What has happened with Lady Vivian?” Calvin asked.
“I cannot woo her,” Sawyer said, slurping his weak tea. He purposely chose to slurp it because it aligned with how pathetic he felt. Sawyer would, on no other occasion, use the word woo, but all that talk of Hamlet and whatnot made it fly out of his mouth.
“Why is that?” Calvin asked.
“Because, the vicious, snake-like villain has threatened my reputation. He has vowed to sully my commission and my very existence. And not that I care about this one jot, but rather, he seeks to bring Vivian into the whole charade and ruin her reputation as well. Reputation!” Sawyer cried with great passion. The whole room had turned once again in his direction and followed the entire speech from then on.
“Bloody hell!” one other gentleman cried from across the room.
“Yes, it is bloody hell,” Sawyer cried back.
“Let’s focus,” Calvin said.
“Alright.” Sawyer said.
“Are you a quitter?” Calvin asked.
“Sir, I beg your pardon.”
“I said, are you a quitter?” Calvin asked again.
“I have never quit anything in my life,” Sawyer replied.
“Precisely, so why is it that you’re ready to quit now?” Calvin asked.
“Because, man. Didn’t I just explain to you that the godforsaken bag of moonshine is threatening to spread all kinds of lies, and once those lies are spread, my already impossible predicament of trying to win Lady Vivian will become just as impossible as I already knew it to be. In essence, at this point, trying to attain Lady Vivian’s hand is akin to personal suicide.”
“This is dreadful,” a man at a nearby table said.
“Sir, must I remind you,” Calvin began, then turned to the butler. “Might I have a brandy, old chap?”
“We don’t serve brandy,” the butler replied.
“Must I remind you,” Calvin said, returning to Sawyer. “That this is not your true character showing through? You have succumbed to fear and intimidation, and I’ve never seen it happen to you before.”
“This is truly spoken,” Sawyer replied, contemplating it all.
“Where is the young soldier that I encountered here just days ago? Filled with love and hope and excitement?”
“He is on holiday to Florence,” Sawyer replied regretfully.
“Precisely,” Calvin said, sensing that he was making headway. “That remarkable young fellow is no longer facing his fate here in Britain, but rather, he has traveled all the way to Italy where he is becoming stupid, spending countless hours sitting in the Italian sunshine and painting the Duomo.”
“That sounds nice, actually,” Sawyer replied.
“That is not the point. He is becoming fat on pasta and is wasting away in the Uffizi,” Calvin went on.
“Actually, chap, this sounds rather splendid,” Sawyer said.
“No, Sir, it is not splendid. Because the true prize that you seek, the lady that has won your heart, is not in Florence. She’s not even in Rome or Venice, she is in Britain,” Calvin hollered.
There was a great ruckus in the room as all the other gentlemen cheered.
“Might she come and visit Florence?” Sawyer asked sheepishly.
“No!” Calvin cried. “She is here, and you are here, and duty calls. Remember who you are. You are Lieutenant Sawyer Cook, and you are in love. No one stands in your way.”
“No one!” Christian Sherbet cried, barging into the room. He had been dancing downstairs and was told of all the commotion, so he came up to the gentlemen’s room to partake.
It was all becoming rather surreal for Sawyer and he sat back in his chair. He was going to have to think about things. Yes, he had succumbed to threats. It was not like him to do so, and now he was reminded of his need to take action.
“Shall you dishonor your very spirit? Shall you dishonor the very name of love?” Calvin asked.
“Love,” Sherbet echoed.
“No!” Calvin cried. “To do so would be to dash your very name across a blan
ket of burning coals.”
“A blanket,” Sherbet repeated.
“If I may speak plainly,” Sawyer said, raising a hand. “I would guess, Lord Cain, that you have heard of my attendance at the Stockwood Park and have placed a bet upon whether or not I shall return to claim her hand.”
The gauntlet had been thrown. The room succumbed to silence.
“That is actually true,” Calvin said. Twenty pounds hung in the balance, and Calvin was determined to win those pounds.
“I am not in on the bet,” Sherbet said, throwing his hands in the air.
“And that is the reason behind this emboldened speech,” Sawyer added.
“It is the motivation, yes. But I also want to see you happy,” Calvin replied.
“Calvin Cain, you are the single most unhappy fellow that I have ever met in my life. Why should you want me to be happy?” Sawyer asked.
“Because, it’s apparent to me that you might have a chance,” Calvin replied, turning dark. “I have made it clear that I don’t believe in love. It’s all a fabrication as far as I’m concerned. But, still, it has bit you in the arse.”
“Directly in the arse,” Sherbet said, pulling up a chair and seating himself at Sawyer and Calvin’s card table.
“I wish that it were not so,” Calvin went one. “But once someone has contracted the disease of love there is no going back. There is no remedy or cure. One must pursue it or suffer the consequences. This much I know.”
“You’re finally speaking like yourself,” Sawyer said.
“If you were to back down now, not only would I lose twenty pounds but I’d also see you dissolve into ruin.”
“You won twenty pounds off me just one week ago,” Sawyer explained.
“And it was spent on beer, but that’s not the point,” Calvin went on. “If you were to back down now, you would never forgive yourself. I can say this because I know you to be a man of honor and decency, and you’d never forgive yourself.”
Sherbet placed his giant paw of Sawyer’s back and began to rub it. It was meant to be by way of encouragement but it seemed rather odd.
“I must say, when I first endured the threats of Lord Phillip, I thought it all humorous. Such a petty clown of a man. But once he threatened Lady Vivian’s future, and that of her family, I felt the effect of his threats keenly.”
“Truly, do you believe a silly rogue like Lord Phillip has the power that he claims?” Calvin said, leaning in to emphasize his words.
“You cannot deny that he is a gentleman of some standing,” Sawyer replied.
“Hogwash. Lord Phillip Lockfield is a cad. If you are to succumb to the threats of such a louse, then I shall no longer be your friend,” Calvin said.
“Nor I,” Sherbet concurred.
“So, what am I to do?” Sawyer asked, seeking gentlemanly advice. “How am I to proceed? There is no way of going about this without stepping into some kind of danger.”
“Think of it this way, my friend,” Calvin went on. Sherbet was still rubbing Sawyer’s back. “If you were to abandon the lady to the snake, you would be doing her more of a disservice than if you sullied her name. You’d be abandoning her. Lord Phillip would have her in his clutches for the rest of her life. She would be forced to marry the rodent, she would forever be locked in his estate, she would lose her precious maidenhead —"
“Steady now —" Sawyer threatened.
“But you get the meaning of it all. To abandon her now would not only be a loss of face for yourself, it would also be the end of Lady Vivian’s life. You are the only one that holds the key to her freedom. You must act.”
“She is Rapunzel in the tower,” Sherbet added. He played with his hair for a moment.
“What you say makes a great deal of sense,” Sawyer said, considering it all. “Here I was, fearing for Lady Vivian’s reputation, but I didn’t take into account the fact that her very happiness lies in the balance.”
“Will she be happy with you?” Calvin asked, egging Sawyer on.
“Of course she shall be happy with me!” Sawyer explained. “I have a remarkable home, with hounds and a pond, and I paint.”
“You paint?” Sherbet asked in awe.
“I do. But not only that, I know that I could make her happy. Nay, I would do everything in my power to make her happy. I am not rich or privileged or any of that nonsense —“
The other men in the room looked down towards the floor. They were all rich and privileged.
“— But I have a good heart and I would be devoted to Lady Vivian, body and soul.” Sawyer added. He was many things, and privileged was certainly not one of them. But he did not care for all the men in the room to know that he was actually rich.
“That’s the spirit,” Calvin said.
“What a sheep I have been, waiting all this time and succumbing to me fears,” Sawyer said, coming to full realization of the dark state that he had been in.
“I hardly recognized you when I came in the room,” Sherbet noted.
“It can happen to any man,” Calvin noted.
“Now I finally see what I must do,” Sawyer said, standing. “I must ask for Lady Vivian’s hand at once, come what may.”
“You must go this very minute,” Sherbet added.
“If I were to undertake it,” Sawyer said, pointing his finger in the air. “Then I must first have a good bath, a shave, and change my clothes.”
“You look terrible,” Calvin said.
“But once I clean myself up, I’m going directly to South Downs, no matter what the hour, and I will demand Lady Vivian’s hand in marriage.”
“Demanding might be too much,” Calvin said, sipping his brandy. “It might be best to ask for it.”
“Demand it,” Sherbet whispered.
“I shall either demand it, ask for it, or imply that I want it,” Sawyer replied, giving himself some options.
“I’m coming with you,” Sherbet said, gritting his teeth.
“Come off it man, you said that the last time and it would have been a disaster if you had done so,” Sawyer explained.
“Truly?” Sherbet asked.
“Yes.”
Sawyer just had to imagine what it would have been like had Sherbet been by his side on that first day that he paid a call to Stockwood Park. There they would be, getting lost in the maze and taking tea in the field, all the while having Christian Sherbet mucking about, repeating all of Sawyer’s sentences and rubbing his back. It would have been absurd.
“Anyhow. No, I’m going alone,” Sawyer said. His mind was made up.
“This very night?” Calvin asked.
“Yes, this very night. Didn’t I already say that?” Sawyer replied.
“That will be twenty pounds,” Calvin said to the gentleman behind him. The man handed Calvin the money and it was pocketed with haste.
“Truly, it was a bet?” Sawyer asked.
“Why do you act surprised?” Calvin said.
“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me,” Sawyer said with a little bow.
The men were sad to see Sawyer go. Deep inside, they were rooting for him, even though each of them knew full well that he was an orphan and had very little money. They still admired his spirit, courage, large calf muscles, and they had all been told of his pond.
“Good luck,” various men exclaimed.
“You can do this,” Calvin said with a dark grin.
“You’re just saying that because that fellow handed you twenty pounds,” Sawyer replied.
“That would be true,” Calvin said.
Once Sawyer was gone, all the men felt anxious and wondered how the evening would unfold. They hoped that the news of it might end up in the gossip pages the next morning.
“And then there were two,” Sherbet said, plopping into Sawyer’s seat.
Calvin’s heart sank. Had he really found himself alone in the company of Christian Sherbet yet again? It was the price that he would pay for being Sawyer’s closest ally.
“Might I
ask you,” Calvin began. “How is it that you continuously manage to pop up unannounced?”
“I’m everywhere at all times,” Sherbet began to explain, reaching over and grabbing a piece of cake from another man’s plate. “I’m like the very air that you breath. I am everywhere,” he went on to explain, and then took a large bite from the cake. The gentleman from whom the cake had been stolen did not say a word about it.
“You are a rather odd fellow, I must admit,” Calvin said, pulling a cigar from his pocket and lighting it.
“And you, my friend, have a gambling problem,” Sherbet said.
There was an interval of silence as Sherbet finished eating his cake and Calvin smoked his cigar. Calvin noted that when Sherbet was quiet, he was actually rather good company.
“Do you think that he will succeed?” Sherbet asked.
“I do not,” Calvin replied.
“How could you say such a thing?” Sherbet asked.
“I find it easier to view things in such a way. If I tell myself that Sawyer will fail miserably, then it’s extraordinary if he actually succeeds. If I tell myself that the sun will not shine tomorrow, then I’m altogether pleased when it does. If I convince myself that this cigar that I’m smoking shall kill me, then imagine how happy I’ll be when I’m fifty and still able to accomplish jaunty hikes.”
“I see your point, but I do not agree with your philosophy,” Sherbet said. The cake was done and he looked back to the plate from which he stole it to see if something else caught his eye. There was only bread and butter, and he decided to abstain.
“And what is your philosophy?” Calvin asked, amused.
“Everything is NOW,” Sherbet said with heft.
“You must explain that.”
“I don’t know how to explain it, but rather, it means that it’s all here,” Sherbet said, pounding his fist upon the table. “THISSSSSS,” he said, gritting his teeth.
“Are you referring to the wooden table?” Calvin asked.
“Yes, the wood . . . “ Sherbet said, massaging it.
“I don’t think that I entirely understand,” Calvin went on.
