Technically he was the same age as Frederick, but his brother wore his age exceedingly well and appeared at least five years younger. A family trait.
“And to that end, I need to borrow him for a moment,” Berab continued, interrupting Sol’s thoughts. “If you will excuse us, Lady Rochester, you do look lovely tonight. I was so glad to be seated near you and Lord Rochester this evening. Your husband’s mind is brilliant, and listening to his thoughts is always a privilege.”
And with a flash of a charming smile and a sharp grip on his shoulder, he led Sol away from the group before he could get another word in. “Her husband has the sense of a fruit fly,” Berab murmured once they were farther away. “Come along.”
“What are you doing?” Sol hissed at the older man between gritted teeth.
“I’m helping you,” Berab told him plainly, before shoving a glass of some too sweet after-dinner drink in his hand. “God knows why, other than I’m bored, though you or your brother making fools of yourselves here admittedly might hinder my own personal plans.”
He took a discreet sip from a sliver flask that Sol barely had time to register before it was tucked, out-of-sight, in some internal pocket.
Sol narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t know you wereinvited.” Or more, he’d not seen him at dinner. Though the tablehadbeen crowded, his and Frederick’s seats naturally far from the hosts and their more honored guests.
“What, disappointed you’re not the only Jew in a room full of gentiles?” A small smirk played on Roger’s lips.
“I thought that wasyourpreferred circumstance,” Sol couldn’t help murmuring beneath his breath.
“It wouldn’t be if there were more of us who didn’t require so much minding to stay out of trouble.” Berab gave Sol another pointed look before motioning for Sol to follow him into the hall. “Though my brother believes you’re trainable.”
Sol raised a brow. “How generous of him.”
Taking another swig of his drink, he led him into a small library. “Don’t bother with the shelves. Half of the volumes are false facades,” Berab said with no small amount of disappointment before nodding to a chair, presumably for Sol, as he swept toward the back of the room as if he owned it.
“As I’m generously speaking with you, let’s get a few things straight.” He leaned against a shelf, his tone sharp, changing personas once again. If the Berabs ever went bankrupt, this one could easily find work on Drury Lane. “I get invited to a great deal of places. Money does that. Especially when it’s money that you reliably know how to keep without resorting to ignominious means.”
Sol bristled at the dig. “Yes, that’s far worse than kidnapping and physically attacking any competition,” he retorted, relations with his boss be damned. After all,thisBerab—with his youngest brother—hadresorted to such means in their efforts, however wasted, to win Isabelle Lira’s hand.
Berab gave a mild shrug and continued. “Your brother’s trying to win a large pot with a mediocre hand. Best not to give away any of his tells.” He gave Sol an insultingly knowing look.
Sol rolled his eyes. “I’m not a shmuck.”
“Not completely, as if you were, David would’ve found a way to get rid of you already, no matter what Isabelle wants and how unfortunately powerful Ellenberg has become in the community, despite his lack of… everything.” Berab sniffed.
“However, I have yet to fully form an opinion,” he continued, giving Sol a once-over that was probably meant to be intimidating, but failed. “Right now, I’m just giving you some friendly advice.”
His lip curled a little. “But why listen to me? It’s not as if I know anything about this world or mine, both of which you want to join and neither of which you have any experience in. I certainly couldn’t help you with those goals you seem to be failing at as of late.”
Oy, the man was a putz. A self-important, smug putz. Even if a great deal of what he said was true. The Berab family moved within the Jewish community with an ease and comfort of which Sol could only dream. And the gentiles liked Berab’s wealth and his Sephardic “lineage” a great deal more than the new-moneyed Ashkenazi Weiss brothers.
But the other man was still a putz.
Sol resisted folding his arms, and instead kept his posture deliberately relaxed. “It couldn’t be you have your own motivations.”
“Mine are not at cross-purposes with yours.” Berabshrugged. “Besides, David may have taken a shine to you, but you’re merely an employee so it’s no skin off my nose if you drown. Provided you don’t splash about too loudly beforehand.”
“How kind of you,” Sol said, raising a brow as he put on his best imitation of Berab’s smug but charming tone and accent.
“I am, aren’t I?” The man’s smirk turned into a full smile. “Your delivery wasn’t half bad.” Berab finished off his drink. Setting his glass down, he motioned for Sol to follow. “Walk with me for the rest of the evening. If you’re a good boy, I’ll give you a few introductions to those who might suit your purposes and overlook…” He pursed his lips. “Well.”
“You really are benevolence incarnate.” Sol shook his head but couldn’t help smiling.
Berab raised a finger to him. “Definitely wear that smile when I present you,” he said. “And I do owe David. Since I’m the best at this sort of thing, I should be the one to help you along,” he added. “Besides, as I said. I’m bored and the reading material is lackluster.”
Ah, and now the man’s actions made more sense.
“At least you’re honest,” Sol said with a shrug.
“When I want to be,” Berab returned, his word, tone, and expression eerily reminiscent of himself. Perhaps they were more alike than either wanted to believe. “What?”
“Nothing.” Sol shook his head. “Or if I say it, you’ll be insulted.”
He paused and gave another knowing smile. “No, I suspect I’d actually not be.” His smile turned rueful for a moment before he snapped his fingers at Sol. “But come along. We’ll need something to drink as we’regoing to have to discuss matches. You were right to pursue Isabelle, even if you failed. The right wife would do wonders forallour purposes.”
Naturally. And it wasn’t as if he could say no.
And if all the women he imagined when Berab said the word “wife” looked like Hannah? That could be changed. Easily.
