Gibbous House 81

Came he did, at last, preceded by the formality of Crabbit's second delivery of the man's calling card. I felt a simple satisfaction at this defrauding of the social niceties. The Earl demeaning himself so far as to call on a mere Captain. How much more debased would he have felt to know his obsequies were squandered on an adventuring imposter? On the card's arrival, I dismissed Crabbit with a wave of my fingers. Johnny Brougham's card bore only the appellation appropriate to his earldom. Plainly, as with many of the blood, the surname bare was sufficient. Said card was impressively stiff, as rigid as the rules of its presentation. It was devoid of the declassé scalloping of edge that the cards of many of those exalted by success in trade affected. The print of an inky thumb may well have been the affectation of Brougham himself, or indeed a mark of Crabbit's descent from his former position.

Brougham was as nervous as a curate among bishops. Do not think he hopped from foot to foot, rubbing one hand on the other in serpentine style; no indeed, he was as stiff and formal as ever I had seen him. He stuttered painfully over the C of Captain – and excruciatingly over that of Crawford - all the while executing such a bow as would disgrace the least ingenious of automata. Still more painful were his overtures; the politenesses required before broaching the business of the matter at hand: the man enquired of the current strength of my regiment, my phantastical prospects of promotion within it and of my imagined exploits under its standard. The trick of course was to make little of all three whilst offering not a whit of detail, much in the manner of a Cardigan or a Raglan.

Much as I enjoyed the ridiculous nature of this preamble, it was some relief when I realised he was approaching the purpose of his visit, admittedly in the manner of a cautious dog toward an intemperate feline. However, he had scarce mentioned my “sister's” name, when I held up a hand and interrupted:

'Modern though it might be, Brougham, my sister and I are not so disparate in age that I would presume to dispose of her prospects in her absence.'

I rang the bell and instructed Crabbit to fetch Arabella.

'And also, might I presume on your indulgence:' I went on, 'I am in the hope that you would not consider it an imposition if our friend and advisor were also present?'

He spluttered his assent.

Arabella returned, on the arm of a man whom I respected as exemplar of his type. Whitscrape; Malachi Whitscrape, Attorney-at-law, as full of scruple as need be, he trod a line as thin as his own corporeal form. As yellow as the parchments he signed with conviction and impunity, only a glowing sheen to his eyes betrayed his true passion; the acquisition of guineas by whatever means. A useful man indeed.