The Earl of Gilchrist was in an exceptionally temperamental mood this morning. His father had invested in some lands in the Virginia territories, and he needed to make a monthly meeting with the solicitor that oversaw them.
His father had made this a regular meeting at White’s. In the time between his death and with Colton unable to leave the hospital, the solicitor had done all the overseeing himself. Now with the earl back in London and a great need to make sure his property was being managed well, Colton had no choice but to meet the man at the pre-arranged appointment.
Lord Gilchrist told himself that he was going to be riding in a carriage and walking into a building where he would have a relatively private meal with a man who knew his family well. There was no need for him to worry about how others treated his scars. Still, he was anxious.
He dressed himself in his most excellent morning jacket. He had never been one to overly care about his clothing, but now he seemed to overcompensate for the disfigurement. He chose a shirt with a high collar and a thick tie to hide as much of his scars as possible.
In truth, they ran down the whole left side of his body to his knee. The little portion that was shown on his face didn’t even compare to what was unseen. He could only imagine how people would react if they could actually see the damage done to his body.
He hurried into his carriage, making the distance between the front door and cover of the vehicle as short as possible. It was not easy to move quickly. Lord Gilchrist's left leg still needed substantial assistance from his cane.
Lord Gilchrist had been assured that, over time, his leg would heal from the garish gashes that cut through his thigh and he soon wouldn’t even remember having a slight limp.
Over a year later since the event, and he was still in great pain with every step that put weight on that leg. It was accurate that in the beginning, he couldn’t walk at all, so, comparatively, he had improved. However, Lord Gilchrist could not even see a future when he wouldn’t need his cane.
Maybe it was because of the awkward motion of his attempt at a quick walk that he caught the attention of two ladies and their maids walking down the street. Gilchrist tipped his head lower to cover their view. It was late enough in the morning that all the early mist had been burned away, affording him no cover.
“This is the earl I spoke of, the one who is more monster than man,” one lady whispered to the other.
The earl may have been missing most of the ear on the side of the ladies, but it still functioned properly, and he heard every word she whispered.
His face burned red with rage as he slipped into his carriage, not even removing his hat before entering.
He would make sure to tell the lawyer that they would be meeting in his residence from now on. He did not need to suffer this type of embarrassment or ridicule.
He arrived at White’s and entered the building with little incident. There was a footman at the door who greeted him kindly as he took the earl’s hat and outer coat. It was sad to the earl that the paid help was more willing to treat him as they always did than his own kind.
“Mr. Henderson is already here and waiting for you, my lord,” the footman informed him.
Gilchrist nodded in understanding. He was about to follow behind him when a commotion caught his attention. He looked just down the hall to see the proprietor speaking with a gentleman. Whatever he was saying was very upsetting, for the gentleman was having trouble keeping his voice at a proper level.
Lord Gilchrist had been a patron of the establishment since he was a young lord and often came here with his father. He knew the proprietor, James White, very well and found him a most reasonable man.
Instead of following the footman, he forgot his garish face and walked over to aid the disagreement in any way he could.
“Mr. White, is there something I could be of help with here?” Gilchrist said.
He saw, now that he was closer, that the offending gentleman was the Earl of Heshing. He had never actually met the man, though Gilchrist had seen him from time to time.
“It’s a private conversation, chap, so if you don’t mind—Dear God!” Heshing exclaimed as he turned to smart off to Gilchrist.
It was easy to see that he was teetering out of control with whatever was conspiring between the two of them. Turning to face the Earl of Gilchrist had made him take a visible step back.
“Something wrong, chap?” Gilchrist spat back with a raise of his brow.
Lord Gilchrist had determined at that moment that he didn’t care for Heshing and instead thought to turn and walk away.
“No,” Heshing said, slowly trying to regain himself. “You must be Lord Gilchrist. Your, um, reputation, precedes you,” he said with a slight bow. The scars on Lord Gilchrist’s face entranced Heshing.
Gilchrist looked away from the offending earl and, instead, turned to Mr. White.
“Is there something I can assist you with?”
“Thank you, My Lord,” Mr. White said with a soft bow. He cared not a whit for Lord Gilchrist’s deformed face and looked at him, grateful for the added help.
“I was just telling the Earl of Heshing that it was my unfortunate task to inform him that he would no longer be welcome in this establishment.”
“It’s absolutely preposterous,” Heshing burst out. “My family have been members here for generations.”
“Be that as it may,” Mr. White said uncomfortably with this news. “You have built up a significant bill at the tables. Until you pay off a portion of that, I cannot allow you to be a member here.”
“This is not something I enjoy doing, but it is part of house policy,” Mr. White said by way of explanation to Lord Gilchrist.
“Nothing to worry about, Heshing,” Lord Gilchrist said. “Just pay the amount and be on your way.”
“This is an insult and I refuse to pay on those grounds,” Heshing responded. “My father would never have been treated as such.”
“With all due respect, my lord, your father never had such a significant amount owed.”
“It can’t be all that bad,” Lord Gilchrist said with a laugh.
He too had kept a running balance from time to time when luck was low. So often, gentlemen didn’t carry purses of cash on them, and it was custom for the house to foot the bill for a period of time. That being said, Gilchrist always settled his accounts within a short amount of time, never letting it gather.
He knew that not all the lords had the same respect for timely repayment as him. From time to time, Mr. White might need to remind a patron of the amount owed. Very rarely did that result in such an outburst.
“Just pay the amount.”
“As if I had the funds on me,” Heshing spit back.
Gilchrist wasn’t at all enjoying his tone. Of course, Heshing had to be embarrassed by this confrontation by Mr. White, but he was only making it worse for himself.
“How much?" Gilchrist asked Mr. White.
He didn’t particularly like Heshing at the moment, but it was a typical act for one earl to help out another. Gilchrist did have the means on him at that moment to rectify the situation and proper breeding dictated that he do so.
“One hundred and sixty-two pounds,” Mr. White said after a moment of review over his ledger.
Now it was Gilchrist’s turn for shock. Over one hundred pounds! It was an offensive amount to owe. No wonder Mr. White was asking him removed from the premises till paid.
“How is it even possible to allow an account to run so high without notice?” Gilchrist asked of the owner.
“Unfortunately, this is just from last night,” Mr. White responded.
For a man to gamble away such a vast amount in one night was mind-boggling. Gilchrist looked over at the other earl, full of confusion. His face was red with rage over this uncomfortable conversation.
“I’m afraid, where I would normally help, I don’t currently have that amount of funds on me,” Gilchrist said.
“As I said, I didn't ask for your help,” Heshing spat back, narrowing his eyes on Gilchrist.
Lord Gilchrist couldn’t help but be satisfied with the fact that he couldn’t help, for honor would have dictated he do so.
Really, Gilchrist could have offered to pay at least a portion to appease the owner, but he didn't particularly want to for this gentleman. He would have sooner taken Heshing in a round of boxing than see even a portion of his bill paid at that moment.
Heshing not only seemed to be a man with no self-control when it came to the cards, but so full of pride as to insult the only person who had come to his aid. He instead deserved what was coming his way in Gilchrist’s mind.
“Well then, old chap,” he said putting heavy sarcasm on the last word, “nothing left for me to do then, but to see you to the door so that Mr. White can get back to his business.”
Gilchrist motioned for Heshing to follow him. Mr. White breathed an air of relief, because there would have been no respectable way to kick an earl out of his building without causing offense.
“You are very welcome to return and will be reinstated upon payment, sir,” Mr. White said to lessen the blow.
“Don’t count on it,” Heshing said before turning to walk out with Gilchrist at his side.
As soon as Gilchrist saw Heshing out, he released the air in his lungs. He was sure that horrible, little rakes such as Heshing didn’t deserve to possess the title of an earl. He thought back to all the men under his charge the last few years. Any one of them deserved Heshing's life over a spoiled brat that threw away money like it mattered not.
Already, Gilchrist could feel his temper rising. Since his time in the regulars, it was a constant battle to keep his emotions in check. He smoothed out his jacket front as he calmed himself before turning to the footman still waiting on him.
"I will see Mr. Henderson now,” Gilchrist said as calmly as he could muster.
“Very good, my lord. Right this way please, sir.”
Gilchrist sat with his solicitor and went over the vast plantations he owned in Virginia. Some of it was a great shock to Gilchrist. It was much more than he had even known about. Not only did his father have the tobacco fields, that he knew well about, but he had also invested in a sawmill and several hundred acres of land devoted to developing pitch from the pine tree resin.
“Now, your father never set foot on the land, only bought it and managed it through myself and correspondence. I, however, try to make the trip to Virginia at least every other year to make sure I am accurate in the description of its state,” Mr. Henderson said after explaining the whole of the investment.
He was a portly man who was well up in age. Gilchrist was a little surprised that he was able to make the journey at all.
“And the last time you visited the site?” Gilchrist asked out of curiosity.
“Just before your father died. I was sorry to hear of his passing upon my return.”
Gilchrist nodded in understanding. That meant it would be time to visit the plantation in person again. He wondered if he should do it himself. It would be an adventure to do so. Perhaps, too, he would be more welcome in the wild, new America than he was here at home.
“I had waited to make my next journey, to see if that was what you wished. Perhaps you would like to see the land for yourself?”
Mr. Henderson had read the train of Lord Gilchrist’s thoughts and Colton smiled, knowing he would enjoy working with such a man over the course of the years.
“Perhaps it might be a good way to procure a wife as well, if you don’t mind me being so bold as to say,” Mr. Henderson continued.
Gilchrist laughed out loud at the thought. He had known from the first moment he peered at his image in a looking glass that no lady would ever have him now.
“You think a respectable lady would have this,” he waved to his face.
“Perhaps women are picky choosers here, but I promise you, in America, women swoon at the mere mention of a title.”
“I’m sure my mother would be happy at the idea. I fear she resents me for not only taking my father out of this world, but also preventing a grandchild to carry on our family’s estates.”
It was the first time that Gilchrist had ever aired his irritations with another. He was just as surprised to speak of such a personal matter with a man he had just met, as Mr. Henderson was to hear it.
The gentleman merely brushed the thick mustache that decorated his face with a linen cloth and looked on Gilchrist much like his own father would have.
“I knew your father well and he did deeply worry when you left. We spoke of you and your sister often. He loved both his children dearly. That said, I can promise you that his death was not your fault. It’s what happens when old age creeps into ancient bones such as these,” he said as he slapped his round belly.
“I appreciate your words,” Gilchrist said, not fully agreeing with them. “I will also consider making the trip myself, as I would not want to put your ancient bones on such an arduous journey.”
“I am not going to lie; I would be greatly relieved if that were the case. I seem to enjoy the trip less and less every time I go.”
Gilchrist shook Mr. Henderson’s hand heartily before they parted ways. As he had begun his trip today, he had decided not to meet the man at White’s anymore. After speaking with both the proprietor and Mr. Henderson and finding some camaraderie with them both, he decided to keep the monthly appointments in place.
Admittedly, it was a dread for him from the moment he stepped out of the gentlemen’s club and back on the street of London to his waiting carriage, but he figured it was a small allowance to see even just a few moments out of the confines of his home.