
âI. Am. A. Viscount!â
Andrew Marsham, Lord Newry, had been shouting for at least a quarter-hour, since this⊠lackey from Bow Street appeared at the door. When told the viscount was Not At Home, the lout forced his way past the butler, calling out through the halls and opening doors like he had a right to be in the house. Eventually, he had found Drew in his study, making himself quietly drunk.
Red face perspiring, veins in his neck and forehead distended and twitching, the viscount insists, at a continued loud volume, âYou cannot keep me here! You cannot lock me in my own house and treat me like a criminal!â
âYou may as well sit, Newry.â
âLord Newry to you, Sirrah!â
âCall you anything I like, and if youâre lucky I wonât call you a molly.â
âThis. Is. Preposterous!â
The man points with his quill to a chair and says, his voice a bit tired, having been awake since the small hours when he dragged Drew and Solomon from a shared bed, âSit, Newry. This can get a lot worse for you. And it might be preposterous if I hadnât seen you in bed with a man with my own eyes. Can you explain how you came to be there?â
The volume dropped as he stumbled a bit over his words. âWe⊠we were both⊠bosky, and there was only one bed. I was hardly going to sleep on the floor, nor ask the roomâs resident to vacate his own chamber.â Donning a viscountâs display of indignation, he added, âI cannot imagine why that would necessitate imprisonment.â
âIf you had been clothed, I might be more inclined to believe you. The only reason you are here and not in Newgate is the gentleman speaking for you. Marquess of something-or-other. Outranks the earl whoââ
âMarquess of what?â he demanded. âWho is speaking on my behalf? And to which earl are you reporting? I am a peer of the realm, Sir, and require you provide me the information without delay!â
âI cannot provide you information I do not have. Godâs bollocks! Will you sit, man?â

Source: Crime and Punishment Magazine, 1810
Lord Newry splashes brandy into a glass and downs it quickly, as he has done twice already since the interrogation began. Pouring another, he finally lowers himself into a chair, worry beginning to take its toll. There was no chance he could ask about Sollyâs whereabouts, but the thought of him sitting in Newgate, rotting away for who knows how long, is enough to make Drew cast up his accounts. Were he not a disciplined man, he might have done already.
Then, a thought occurs that turns his weak stomach into a strong knot. Solly will surely want nothing to do with him after this, no matter how much Drew pays as a quarterly stipend. He is already distrustful of the nobility, given his prior experiences with gentlemen seeking brief, anonymous paid entertainment with a desperate man, but never, in those encounters, had he been followed by the newspapers and tossed into Newgate. And, it must be said, Sol hadnât been entirely dependent on them. He hadnât been forced to trust them, which made this situation much worse.
Sol had no reason to stay; his pocket watch aloneâthe one Drew had had engravedâwould keep him for a year.
Unfortunately, asking about Sollyâs whereabouts or his condition was no way to convince this functionary of the innocence of their association. He hopes Sol is suffering only in pride, not person.
âSo, you say heâs your secretary.â
âBecause he is my secretary.â
âWhat kind of work does he do, then?â
Lord Newryâs nostrils flare. âThe same sort of work as every other secretary in England. Estate matters, correspondence, appointmentsâŠâ
âCan anyone verify that heâs responded to a letter or scheduled a meeting? Does his writing appear in your dairy?â
âHis writingâ?â Lord Newry stands again, pacing to the hearth, where he tosses a log into the fire. His observation was slightly less bellicose now: âThis is preposterous!â
âJust answer the question, please.â
Drew was well aware Sollyâs hand appeared nowhere in his diary, nor in his ledgers or correspondence or estate reports. Sollyâs hand appeared nowhere but on Drewâs⊠well. It was critical this horrid little man not get his hooks into anything in the study or estate office. Especially not the more personal missives Drew would have burned, had they not so heated his blood.
âHow am I to know to where he has written every note?â
The man looks up, eyeing Lord Newry with more interest now. âYou donât keep track of your own secretary? What if he should cheat you?â
âHe has been in my employ almost three years. If he were going to cheat me, he would have done it and disappeared long before now. And I am hardly the only man in London who doesnât stand over the shoulder of his man-of-business.â
Making a note in his book, eyes on the paper and ink, the man asks, âYou pay his rent?â
If the man knew who paid the rent, it meant he might already have access to the account books. Drew was now unsure in what instances he could lie.
âAs part of his remuneration, I pay the lease and maintenance of his rooms. He was in a sorry state when I found him, and it seemed the honorable thing to do. I could hardly have a man representing me in tattered clothes, living in a cheap room in Saffron Hill.â
âMost peers would have hired a man more suited to the position.â
âMost peers have no compassion for the downtrodden.â
âThat is certainly true.â Shuffling through papers, the man asks, âThe rooms you pay for⊠the building is owned by the same woman who owns the Masala Rajah whorehouse. Most of those apartments are rented out to the demimonde.â He laughs as he corrects himself, âThe dark-skinned demimonde. Any reason you have your secretary housed in the same building as other men keep their mistresses?â
âI cannot be held responsible for what goes on in every building whose threshold I cross. The rooms were clean and inexpensive.â
My man just raises a brow. Perhaps inexpensive had been a bit too much of a falsehood. âAny truth to the rumor you are keeping the woman across the hall from him?â He checked a note. âKali Matai? A dancer of some sort?â
Of course! Kali! How could he have forgotten Kali? âMiss Matai and I have⊠an arrangement.â
âWhat sort of arrangement?â
âDo you honestly believe me to have so little honor I would give you details of my relations with my mistress?â
The man shrugs and shuts the portfolio of papers before him and stands. Drew looks up, having expected the interrogation to last longer. He had been spinning lies in his head that might have lasted all week.
âYou cannot leave the house, NewâLord Newry. There are guards posted. I will return if I have any further questions. Your friends hold more influence than I, and likely, at this moment, more than you. Perhaps they can keep it quiet and out of The Lords. Were I in your shoes, I would trust in them.â
Find out what happens to Lord Newry in La Déesse Noire: The Black Goddess.
Sired by a British peer, born of a paramour to Indian royalty, Kali Matai has been destined from birth to enthrall Englandâs most powerful noblemenâthough she hadnât counted on becoming their pawn. Finding herself under the control of ruthless men, who will not be moved by her legendary allure, she has no choice but to use her beauty toward their malicious and clandestine ends.
When those she holds most dear are placed in peril by backroom political dealings, she enlists some of the most formidable lords in England to thwart her enemies. But even with the help of the prominent gentlemen she has captivated, securing Kaliâs freedom, her family, and the man she loves, will require her protectors stop at nothing to fulfill her desires.
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