Quinn had his face buried in the neck of a man in his study when Tessa walked in.
"Oh my," Tessa said. "Now, he feeds in the house."
Quinn raised his face with a smile, and let go of his victim, the man fell unconscious to the floor.
"While I play the role of hostess," Tessa said, "if I say there won't be feeding in any part of the house, then, there shouldn't be feeding in the house. You were supposed to be feeding in the dungeons. What if I had been someone else?"
"You are the only one permitted to sneak up on me," Quinn said. "If someone else came in, my servants would announce them. How is our girl doing?"
"Any specific reason why you're avoiding her?"
"I'm not avoiding her. Before you returned, I sent a messenger with a letter, informing her that I'll be coming around later this afternoon. I'll be staying with her till dusk."
"Good. I have to rest. I've had a long day."
"It's still mid-day."
"Doesn't matter to me. When I'm tired, I'm tired. And I must confess, I do like her. Yours is a ceremony. If I were a man, I would have her legally bound to me without any need to be extravagant."
Quinn laughed. "Says the queen of luxury."
He knew his sister. Money always spoke around Tessa. It's how she had multiple spies working for the family. Some of the spies had made a full-time job out of spying, and the Bramfords had outlived some of them. Some had passed down the job of spying to their children, making it a generational job for those families.
Quinn knew that some of the people knew what they were, but their silence was already bought with money. Should a word even attempt to get out about them, they will know whom and will be less merciful.
********
Good behavior to Quinn, was something he knew should be emulated. The honorable were meant to act so. With honor. But most of these Lords and High Lords in London lacked that.
Sitting alone by a table in a club, Quinn stared at the men of title before him, and each one he noted was either doing something dishonorable, or was about to. A few had several ladies sitting on their laps, and some gambled away their funds. Others drank irresponsibly, laughing loud as their drink mocked them.
Quinn's mind drifted to Nesta, and he was glad Tessa was with her. He planned to see her today, but that would be when Tessa returned home. He knew his sister after all. Her showy gestures and expensive gifts. It would all be engaging enough to take Nesta's mind off the scandal and help her fit in more.
They had been on with this parade for the past few days. Shopping, meeting Tessa's friends, enjoying themselves, while he took care of other arrangements. But he had to see her today. He wasn't sure what he would say to her, but with his mindset to accomplish it, it was his purpose to see it through. And…
"My lord," a man said, distracting Quinn's chain of thought.
Quinn looked at him. "Mr. Achard. Please, sit."
"Thank you, my lord."
Quinn had run into Mr. Achard just as he returned from Devonshire. The man had come to him sickly, and hungry. No one wanted him to work for them, but Quinn had come to his aid.
"What did you want to see me for?" Quinn asked, and signaled the waiter.
Achard was beginning to protest, but Quinn said, "Surely, you'll drink something. Don't worry. It's on my tab."
And Achard relaxed. "Thank you, my lord. I called your home, but I was told that you were here," he said.
"Yes. You could never be sure who would come calling, so I left a message with my housekeeper. Go on," Quinn urged.
"I came to see you in regards to lord Cothley," Achard said, leaning forward to whisper. "His men have been coming by a lot, asking for rent and food to which I have none."
"Mr. Achard! Speak comfortably."
"But someone may hear us, my lord."
Quinn smiled. "Let me worry about that."
The waiter arrived with Achard's drink, placed it before him, and she left.
"Continue," Quinn said.
Achard swallowed, and Quinn read his nervous expression quite plainly. "He threatened to have my daughter. Then, he said that he would like to send her to his establishment to work as a harlot like the other ladies. I had no one to come to, my lord. So I decided to meet you."
Quinn curtly nodded. "You did well."
"Does he really have the right to do that, my lord?" Achard asked.
"He's a lord, and you're a commoner. No offense. So, yes. Really, he can. He could frame up anything against you and do as he wills with your family."
"You helped me once. The job you gave me puts food on my table and helps me run my family. Please, my lord. I come begging you to help me. I don't know what to do."
Quinn got a paper out of his pocket, and got out a pen too. He placed the paper on the table and scribbled something on it, then he raised a finger. Preston approached from a shadowy corner, and paused behind Lord Quinn. He took the paper, looked at it, and walked away, Quinn rested his gaze on Achard.
"It is done," Quinn said. "Lord Cothley would never bother you ever again."
Achard took to his feet. "Thank you, my lord."
"Don't forget your drink, Achard."
Quinn watched Achard sit, take his cup of scotch, and quickly gulp it with a wrinkled expression. Achard nodded.
"Thank you once again, my lord," Achard said, his gratitude written all over as he took to his feet. "Really, I could never thank you enough."
"It's okay," Quinn said. "Take care."
Achard left.
It was always easy to solve other people's problems. Really, Quinn barely saw an obstacle he couldn't take care of. It had been so with elevating Nesta's father's reputation, and prospering his business. Sure, people would say it is because Lord Weaver was aligned to him. Especially since other Lords had been trying, and he had been refusing to do business with them due to their reputation.
But Quinn's problems, they were close, they were always reaching out. They were like an uninvited guest he couldn't ignore to play host to. He was close to a solution, a solution that would bring his enemies to their knees, but aside from not being sure if his plan was the right one, time was also another enemy.
Time. She crept so slowly these days. A child, no, a tortoise had speed. But time, the days felt longer. The nights seemed stretched. Each day was a hopeless reminder of the last, and he wished everything would fall into place and he could see himself free of this binding, and continuously winding cord. He needed to be free.
It's why he had come here to drink. To clear his head of the bedazzling effect of having to face this, talkless of how to face it. It was hectic to think. And these chattering and laughter were doing little to distract him.
Again, he raised a finger, Preston again emerged from the shadow, and walked to stand next to him.
"My lord!" Preston said.
"Ready the carriage," Quinn said.
"Surely for home?"
Quinn shook his head. Not that Gothic mansion of a house. No, not those walls. They would do little to imprison his thoughts. "No. To the Weavers. Tessa should be back by now."
"Yes, my lord."
"And Mr. Achard?" Quinn had to inquire. It was his way to make sure things had been set in motion.
"It's being handled."
"Good?"
Preston curtly nodded and moved to do as he was told.
Quinn emptied his drink, left some bills on the table, stood, and went to take his coat, he walked out of the club.
The weather was still dense outside, Quinn walked into his carriage which was before him. Preston closed the doors, and the carriage set off to the Weavers.