'Dear chap, there is nothing further to discuss. Rather, your attention should be better reserved for the item addressed to you, so recently brought by messenger.' He found a slim packet and handed it over.
It was a substantial sized invitation of stiff pasteboard and edged with gold. A ducal crest was prominent. With it was a hastily scrawled note from Boyd, indicating that he had been able to contrive an invitation for Kydd before he left to an evening of entertainment and fireworks at the estate of the Duke of Stanwick further up the Thames in the country.
A duke! This was far beyond anything Kydd had experienced before and despite his anxieties he felt a quickening of excitement. It was generous of Boyd to think of him. At this level there would be the wealthy and famous, statesmen and nobility, and before going to war, he would at least taste the heady delights of the highest society. 'Nicholas, you must come o' course,' Kydd said impulsively, giving him the card.
Renzi studied it carefully. 'The Duke of Stanwick. At such an eminence you will not lack for fine victuals or the company of ladies of quality, I believe. An evening assembly—it will be by the river in as elegant a landscaping as Mr. Repton has ever achieved.'
'Then I'll send to Captain Boyd to say—'
'I thank you, no.'
Kydd drew in his breath sharply. 'At times I find you a mort hard t' fathom, my friend. Here I am asking you to enter in on society again—'
'Again?'
Kydd hesitated only a moment. 'Nicholas, we've been particular friends for a long time. And, please believe me, I've tried to understand, but why it is you've never talked about your family, always kept mumchance concerning your real past, no letters from home, no visits. You're a gentleman o' the first rank, that's plain to any simkin. And on Jamaica I met your brother as is the same. His name is Laughton, so this is yours as well. I know something of the moral feelings that made you turn your back on 'em and go to sea as a foremast jack—but you became a king's officer and can be proud of it, return to your family with honour. Why do you not?'
Renzi sat as still as a statue and did not speak.
'Your family is wealthy, you told me so yourself. So why, then, do you top it the poor scholar? Why do—'
'It is a matter for myself alone, how I conduct my own affairs,' Renzi snapped. 'This is not a subject I wish to pursue.'
Kydd lifted his head and said softly, 'But I rather think we must, sir.'
'Wha—? Your presumption on our friendship is astonishing!'
'Nicholas, if you are to marry my sister one day I'm bound t' satisfy myself on the particulars. No, wait, let me finish. There are those who'd say that any in your circumstance must surely have offended the family honour in a grievous way, and been cast out to fend how they may. I'm not in their number, but I'm most . . . curious as to why your family has so deserted you and why you're so . . . shy of showing your face in society.'
Renzi looked away, then returned Kydd's gaze steadily. 'I can see how it must appear. There is good and proper reason for this, I can sincerely assure you.'
Kydd said nothing.
'Very well.' Renzi sighed. 'If you must. It's easy enough said. I'm the eldest, the heir presumptive. After a disagreeable
'And o' course this is why you cannot—'
'Not at all. My father's character is not unknown to society and no doubt there is ready sympathy to be discovered, but the chief reason for the discretion you have observed is my profound disinclination to come upon my father in a social situation. He is often to be found in London for the season—but I seem to feel secure within the purlieu of the Royal Society.' He smiled thinly.
'Er, it seems hard t' say, but might I ask,' Kydd said awkwardly, 'if you are—if it can be said you're of noble birth?'
'Certainly. My father is the fifth Earl Farndon, of Eskdale Hall in Wiltshire. It cannot escape you that had matters passed in another vein then in the usual course of events, at my succeeding to the title Cecilia might rightly look to the style of the Countess of Farndon, wife of the sixth Earl, and mistress of Eskdale Hall.'
Struck dumb with the revelation Kydd could only wait for Renzi to resume.
'As it is, I shall endeavour to earn her respect and attention with my philosophies, which I am sanguine will bear fruit within a con-scionable time. I, er, feel it, um, inappropriate to apprise her of what can never be and most fervently trust and hope she will be satisfied to be—Mrs. Renzi.'
For the first time Kydd had full measure of the truth of his friend's moral compass, the deep well of conviction from which he found the strength and courage to see through his logical decisions to their conclusion, and he was humbled.
'Nicholas,' he said, in a low voice, 'as t' that, I c'n tell ye—er, you—for a certainty she will be satisfied, m' very dear friend.'
In the early-summer evening the mist-hung Thames was enchanting, the darkening waters a-glitter with the red of the flaming torches set at the edge of the grassy slopes before the stately hall.
'Your Grace, Commander Kydd of the Royal Navy, shortly to take ship for the French coast.'
Amiable words from the elderly duke, gracious attentions from the duchess, a sweeping curtsy and thoughtful gaze from the eldest daughter, then into the throng, bowing to right and left, making agreeable conversation in the excitement of the warm evening.
Kydd worked his way to the long table of refreshments. A full orchestra arrayed just beyond struck up with a grandiose 'Rule, Britannia!' at which he found himself immediately occupied in acknowledging the civil bows in his direction.
Boyd passed, in conversation with an imposing lady whose pearls alone would have been sufficient to buy
