“Beg pardon, sir, but there is… apersonto see you.”
“A person? What sort of person?”
“A male person, sir. A tradesman, by appearance. He says his name is Thwaite.”
Juliet uttered a squeak. “Oh, Simon! Perhaps he has changed his mind.”
“I know Mr Thwaite,” Simon told the butler. “He is a client of mine.”
Froggett’s face cleared. “In that case, sir, I shall place him in the Blue Parlour.”
“This is such good news!” Juliet said, as soon as Froggett had gone. “Thwaite would not come all this way just to pass the time of day and talk about the state of the roads. He must want to commission one of your designs at last.”
“We shall see,” Simon said neutrally. He no longer had much faith in good news.
Thwaite was standing in the centre of the Blue Parlour, a glass of claret in his hand, gazing at a vast portrait of an ancestral Duchess of Brinshire in a lace-encrusted skirt, with more lace covering her head. Simon could see why Froggett had mistaken Thwaite for a tradesman, for his clothes were ten years out of date at least, and although the quality was good, they were not such as any gentleman might wear.
“Mr Thwaite! What an unexpected pleasure!”
“Ah, there you are, Payne. Well, this is a right fine house and no mistake. Is this what ye’d build for me, happen I wanted it?”
And the accent, of course. Simon smiled at him. “Something like it, yes. Perhaps not quite such a large house, since you are not a duke yet.”
Thwaite laughed heartily at this little jest. “Not yet, Payne, not yet. Maybe I’ll be a lord, though, before too long. I’ve had some very gratifying approaches lately, if only—” He stopped, with a sudden frown. Then, remembering the wine in his hand, he downed the contents in one. “Is this a good wine, would you say?”
Simon refilled his glass. “The duke keeps an excellent cellar. But I am sure you did not come all this way to talk about wine. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, sir?”
“To my conscience, Payne, to my conscience. That letter I wrote you… well, I’m a simple man, not clever, like you, but I deal honestly with folk. Always have done, and always will. Noted for it, I am. A man knows that when he deals with Timothy Thwaite, he’ll get a fair deal and no funny business. And that letter I sent you… it wasn’t honest, and that’s a fact. I’m not comfortable with it, so I’ve come to explain, on account of it’s best done face to face and not written down.”
That was so surprising that Simon poured himself a glass of claret, and topped up Thwaite’s glass again. “I am listening, Thwaite. Will you sit?”
“Thank ’ee, but ’tis best said upright, if it’s all the same to you. When you first came to my notice, Payne, I had every intention of building a house — something suitable to my current position, and a place where the children, who’ve had a proper education and learnt to be fine young ladies and gentlemen, can show off to their fancy friends a bit. It wasn’t for me, so much. We’ve got the grand house in town, so now I was all for having a fine place in the country, and you were just the man to build it for me, you being an earl’s son, and knowing all about these things. And that was fine for a while.”
He took another gulp of wine, as Simon waited patiently for him to get to the point.
“But then… a man came to see me. Lawyer type, I’m sure you know the sort I mean. Very civil, told me I was being considered for elevation to the peerage — that was how he put it,‘elevation’. Is that the proper term?”
“It is. Nobles are supposedly higher than commoners.”
“Ha! Well, perhaps, or perhaps not. But this fellow intimated that giving work to you would hinder myelevation. There were those who were prepared to sponsor myelevation, but only if I keep you dangling but don’t actually give you the work.”
“Good heavens!”
“Aye, you might well be surprised. I was myself. But I’ll wager you can’t guess who was behind it?”
“My father,” Simon said at once. “No one else is vindictive enough to play such games against his own son.”
“Well, don’t that beat all! You already know what sort of man your pa is, but then who’d know him better, I suppose? Quite took me aback, I can tell you, when I eventually found out. I had no idea for a while, but eventually I got wind of who it was. And him an earl, too! An honourable, like you, and not a shred of honour in him, in truth.”
“An earl is addressed as The Right Honourable,” Simon said with a wry smile, “but no, my father has not much honour about him. Very affable to his friends, and despicable to his own family. So your story does not shock me, Thwaite, and you may be sure I bear you no ill-will. I should have enjoyed building your country house for you, but if it cannot be me, I can at least give you a list of others who would do a fine job for you.”
“Well! That’s noble behaviour indeed, sir!” Thwaite said. “I thought at the very least you would rant and rave a bit, and with every justification, but you take it as calm as anything. I salute you, sir.”
“Ah, but you have given me something I have sought these many years,” Simon said, “and that is a reason why I made noprogress in my chosen profession. I thought, you see, that it was my own fault — that my designs were inadequate, or my person or temperament gave cause for disgust. But if it was all my father’s doing — I can live with that. My opinion of him could not be any lower, but my opinion of myself is raised up a little. So for this boon, I thank you, sir, most sincerely.”
***
Simon was not inclined to rant and rave, but Juliet was very much minded to do so.
