“Gin is the drink of peasants,” Aunt Joan snapped. “It is utterly unsuitable for people of our esteemed palates.”
“Your first statement may be generally accurate but not the second. I am fully aware that both Uncle Hugh and Uncle Francis have a penchant for the swill.” Eoin advanced on the two men, remembering what Hannah had told him about their special morning “tea.” “Don’t you slip a flask into your breakfast routine?”
“What?” Hugh blustered. “Why would we—”
Eoin pointed over to the teapot situated near Hugh’s abandoned seat at the table. “There’s no use in denying it, Uncle. All I need to do is to take a sip of that, and I’ll easily confirm the truth.”
Hugh’s hands balled into fists. “What if we do indulge in a tipple of gin every now and again? Why do our drinking preferences matter? We’re not harming anyone.”
“Is gin the reason why you started to frequent the Horse and Hen?” Eoin pressed again, watching as Hugh’s face turned more and more florid. He’d had no idea that human skin could display such a variety of red and purplish hues.
“I never said anything about the Horse and Hen!” Hugh blustered as he stared unblinkingly at Eoin as if commanding him to believe his words by sheer dint of will.
“Oh, my head!” Aunt Eliza suddenly cried out. “With all this excitement, it is aching so. Must you two argue?”
Eoin ignored her outburst. If his interrogation of her brother was bothering her so much, Aunt Eliza could simply depart from the room. Instead, Eoin continued staring down his uncle.
“You’re lying,” Eoin proclaimed with calm assurance.
Hugh was anything but sanguine, though. His body began to quaver—but whether in outrage or fear or both, Eoin could not tell.
“How dare you impugn my honor with—”
“Your rapid breathing combined with your reddened cheeks and unwavering stare all indicate that you’re not telling the truth.” Eoin held up a finger as he listed each sign. “Oh yes, and there’s also that bead of sweat forming on your brow.”
“You’re an uncanny nuisance.”
“Then you admit that you’ve been to the Horse and Hen?” Eoin ignored the worn-out insult and stepped forward again. Hugh tried to scuttle backward, but his brother’s body blocked his retreat.
“What if I said yes? What is wrong with me drinking a cheap spirit at some ramshackle venue? I had no funds to spend on brandy and sherry, and then I acquired a taste for the floral stuff. And yes, I like a bit of bloodsport from time to time. So does Francis. We’re men.” Hugh stood as straight as possible, but his head still was no higher than Eoin’s upper chest.
“Do you know the Purveyor?” Eoin watched for Hugh’s reaction. Unfortunately, before he could witness it, a scratch sounded at the door before it opened to reveal Smythe, Dr. Matthew Talbot, and Lady Charlotte.
“I am sorry for the abrupt intrusion, Your Grace, but you told me to bring Dr. Talbot to you as soon as he arrived,” Smythe intoned.
Eoin battled down his frustration. The distraction had given Hugh enough time to school his expression. Yet despite his uncle’s omissions that he’d frequented the Horse and Hen, Eoin still remained unshaken in his belief that Hugh wasn’t the Purveyor.
“I hear there is a bear in your garden?” Matthew’s wordswere more a disbelieving question than a definitive statement, despite Eoin having been very clear in his missive to the physician.
At the mention of the bruin, Lady Eliza let out a murmur of displeasure. She turned to the side and rubbed her temples.
“Yes.” Eoin pointed his finger in the direction of the set of windows overlooking the garden. “The creature is from the Horse and Hen’s cellar. I believe it was used in bearbaiting.”
“Oh, the poor thing!” Lady Charlotte said.
Aunt Joan snorted. “I would hardly deem that beast ‘poor.’”
Lady Charlotte regarded Aunt Joan serenely. “It must have suffered in the ring as men cheered on the dogs forced to attack it.” Then she turned back to Eoin and Hannah. “However did you come to rescue him?”
“We didn’t,” Eoin said shortly. “He was deposited in my garden.”
Lady Charlotte and her husband exchanged a glance, but they didn’t ask any more questions with Eoin’s relatives present. Instead, they both crossed the room quickly,
“Hmm,” Matthew said, sounding more like a scholar surprised by a new fact that he’d read than shocked by the presence of a beast in Mayfair.
“What is it?” Hannah asked.
“It is a black bear,” Matthew explained. “They’re from the Colonies. I was expecting a European brown bear, but it is not too surprising that one could be shipped from the New World. I’ve brought animals home from there myself.”
