“That is a shame to hear, Mr. Bauer.”
“Come now, Miss Wilde. Clearly we will not see eye to eye on this matter, but surely we can still find a common ground of friendship.”
Ella could not help briefly lifting her gaze to Phoebe, who was seated at the other end of the table. Her friend’s attempt at a cheery visage and conversation was overshadowed by her frequent glances in Ella’s direction.
“Well then, Mr. Bauer, I believe true friendships are built on trust and time and shared experiences. But I do hope we can become friends over time.”
His jaw twitched ever so slightly before he smiled broadly. “I couldn’t agree more.”
She returned her attention to her plate of mostly uneaten food to signal the topic’s end, but even though she did not trust this man, she at least felt she had, somehow, gained the upper hand.
After dinner concluded and the women retreated from the dining room to leave the men to their port, Gabriel stood from his chair and took a moment to observe his surroundings. It had been a long time since he’d attended anything that resembled a refined event. He recalled a time when his family would host such events frequently. As a prominent textile producer and one of the mostinfluential men in Manchester, his father had always been entertaining. Their home was a never-ending succession of elegant dinners and balls.
After he and his father parted ways over his sister’s situation, such events faded from Gabriel’s lifestyle and were replaced by whatever events his cases required. He still attended sophisticated events from time to time, but often his work required him to frequent dark village taverns and dockside inns. His ability to fit in anywhere and converse easily with others was his most valuable asset, but this particular case posed unique challenges.
Normally he enjoyed anonymity. People knew his name, but they didn’t know about his family. His childhood. At Keatley Hall there was no hiding them.
“Rowe!”
The familiar voice interrupted Gabriel’s musings, and he turned. Felix Templeton, a chum from his school days, approached from the other side of the table.
Gabriel could almost breathe a sigh of relief. Of all his former classmates to encounter in such a situation, Templeton might be the most accommodating—and the most amusing.
Templeton stretched out his hand once he was near, a lopsided grin on his ruddy, full face. “I couldn’t have been more surprised to see you at the other end of that table tonight. Why did you not tell me you were going to attend?”
Gabriel matched Templeton’s enthusiasm and shook his hand. “A last-minute decision.”
“I’m glad for it, although I can’t say why you would choose to come. Did you forget how dull these are? I’d have passed, but my father would disown me.”
Gabriel chuckled. “Do I detect sarcasm?”
“I hope so.” Templeton paused to accept two glasses from the footman’s tray and then extended one to Gabriel.
Gabriel accepted the port. “Tell me, Templeton. What have I missed in this last decade?”
Templeton took a swig of the dark liquid, leaned his elbow against the chimneypiece, and motioned toward his own father, who was speaking with Mr. Bauer on the other side of the chamber. “You know that nothing ever changes with these men. Same discussions, same opinions. That’s hardly a surprise, is it?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” countered Gabriel. “It seems to me that ifthisgroup is willing to discuss phrenology after the hullabaloo it caused all those years ago, I’d say that’s significant change.”
Templeton gave his russet head a shake. “Say what you will, Rowe, but you know the truth about this sort.”
“And that is?” Gabriel raised his brows.
“Not a single thing is done, discussed, or considered unless there is something to be gained.”
Gabriel paused to consider the statement and took a sip of his drink. He was about to ask Templeton to clarify, but then Mr. Wilde approached.
“Mr. Rowe. Mr. Templeton,” Mr. Wilde said in greeting. “So good to see you both. It gives me hope for the future knowing young lads such as yourselves are interested in furthering the natural philosophies. Tell me, Mr. Rowe, are you regaining your sea legs here at Keatley Hall?”
“I am.”
“And my daughter tells me that you are a solicitor. The law!” Mr. Wilde’s light eyes widened in perceived interest. “A diversionfor you, then. I recall your main interest was in astronomy, I believe.”
Gabriel could not resist a smile at the memory of his childhood interest and gave a slow nod. “I was indeed very fond of the study. I suppose time has a way of changing things.”
“And don’t forget the need for practicality.” Mr. Wilde lifted his glass in a toast to the field. “The law is a noble profession. Our country desperately needs clever men with good heads on their shoulders.”
“Practicality.” Templeton snorted. “Where’s the fun in that?”
