“Better than spending it on drink or a tart,” Bonham continued. “Why shouldn’t I learn to pass as an elegant gentleman? We have become more successful than anything we dreamed possible. Those years when we hoped to get jobs as clerks are long past. Why are you frowning at me, Gideon? If they are our enemy, then why do you want to be like them?”
“I don’t want to be like them. I hate their arrogance and entitlement. Who are they, anyway? What makes them better than us? It is nothing more than the luck of their birth,” Gideon said with unmasked bitterness. “What would they be without their advantages? I have no intention of ever being like them, but I want to rub their noses in my success. Stick it in their pasty faces and make them green with envy. I’ll show them who’s the better man.”
“You can toss the wealth of England at them and they will still revile you. And if you want my opinion—”
“Which I don’t. Enough, Bonham. I mean it. I have work to do.”
“Shuffling through those papers?”
“Yes, this is what comes with building our assets. Contracts, ledgers, reports.”
“More like Julius Caesar building his empire. And what about the house construction? Why did you send the boys away? They are close to finishing up that back expansion. Shouldn’t they be working on it?”
“They’ll resume work on Monday,” Gideon replied. “Lady Berry needs to set up for tomorrow’s charity tea, that fancy gathering she is hosting, and does not need the distraction of our hammers. As you said, the work is almost done. Little more left than cleaning out the yard and putting in the glass doors.”
“You’ll still have to furnish the house.”
“Yes, in time.” The place was empty save for a cheap desk and a few old chairs he had brought over from one of their gaming hells. He’d purchased some cots from a military auction, and these were what he and Bonham slept on whenever they were there. However, Bonham was the one mostly sleeping there lately. Gideon had spent most nights in his private quarters here at the Musket Club because as their wealth grew, so did his responsibilities.
Bonham worked just as hard supervising all their clubs and maintaining their prime condition. He managed supplies, hired the right employees, and repaired whatever needed fixing while Gideon handled much of the more academic work. That included scouting new ventures, negotiating contracts, and investing their profits.
The amount of work they each had to put in just to stay abreast of all that was going on with their assets was mounting steadily.
This club had become Gideon’s headquarters of a sort. It was the elite gaming hell he and Bonham operated, one among several such establishments they owned in London. This was also where Gideon bedded courtesans and bored wives of the nobility whenever the urge struck him.
He was never going to bring any of them to his house on Duchess Square.
With his having started out life as a tossed-away, homeless boy covered in ash found wandering the London streets and brought to St. Brigid’s to be given a home and a chance to make something of himself, that house was his dream fulfilled. That beautiful residence on Duchess Square was the first thing ever purchased completely for himself.
His alone.
Yes, his once impossible dream. His sanctuary.
“I’ll have to engage a decorator.”
“I’m sure your Lady Berry will be able to recommend one.”
Gideon shrugged. “Maybe. Now get out of here. I have work to do. But have Cook prepare a hot meal for you before you head back to Duchess Square. And be polite to Lady Berry if she stops by again.”
Bonham laughed as he rose. “Are you suggesting I ought to stop behaving like an arse and stop teasing her with my deaf act? You’re the one who started it.”
Gideon chuckled. “She is deliciously gullible, isn’t she? All right, let’s see how long it takes her to catch on to the ruse.”
Bonham shook his head. “You are a bounder, and she is such a sweet thing.”
“I know. Thane’s daughter. And isn’t she as pretty as an angel? Green eyes that sparkle and dimples when she smiles. She also has a soft heart.”
“Don’t you go breaking it, Gideon,” Bonham warned as he walked out.
The rest of the day passed quietly for Gideon.
He worked through much of the tedious pile of documents he had put off sifting through while caught up fixing his new townhouse. But as night fell, he washed, dressed, and then walked downstairs to play host at the Musket Club. This wastheir crown jewel, the place where he and Bonham had built their wealth, this elite gaming establishment that catered to the Upper Crust.
Joss Fraser was the canny Scot who worked as floor manager for them. Gideon and Bonham had placed trusted men to manage each of their establishments, but in many ways the Musket Club was the hardest to run and required their best man. It took a sharp mind and a bit of intelligence to handle the elite, who werenotused to paying their debts in a timely fashion.
“Viscount Hawthorne’s here again,” Joss muttered as Gideon entered the gaming salon.
“Is he winning or losing tonight?”
