Read Online The Pleasure Merchant by Molly Tanzer - Free Book Online

stairs, and no great favorite above them either. Perhaps it was his self-described “scientific turn of mind,” whatever that meant. As far as Tom could tell, it involved collecting and fiddling with abstruse mechanical devices that emitted light or sound when activated, and pouring over enormous tomes that all seemed to be about the mind, the spirit, and memory. That was about it.
    Hallux’s dearest wish was to join the Royal Society, which seemed to be some sort of club, like Waddles or Brooks’s, but for brainy people—natural philosophers, moralists, and doctors, who also possessed a ‘scientific turn of mind.’ But first, Hallux had to publish something called a “monograph.” To that end, he spent the bulk of his time in his study, tinkering with his toys, or scribbling notes in the most appalling handwriting on reams and reams of paper. But when company asked after Hallux’s pursuits, he claimed to be a brilliant doctor, a specialist in something called “nerves.” Tom was suspicious, for Hallux saw no patients, but following Mrs. Jervis’s advice, he said nothing about it to anyone.
    If eccentricity and ‘scientific-mindedness’ had been the whole of Hallux’s faults Tom would not have disliked the man so much. Mr. Bewit was himself something of an eccentric, after all—he had never re-married, was idle, and was given to melancholic episodes unless distracted by cards or company. But Hallux was neither mercurial nor dull—he was a pompous ass. He never wanted for an opinion, and when he did not have an opportunity to speak one aloud, he made one. No one was safe; even Tom was frequently held up in the process of carrying out Mr. Bewit’s orders because Hallux saw fit to stop him in the hall to lecture him on this or that matter concerning his person, on matters as various as his posture, his reading habits, or the obvious flaws in his upbringing.
    Tom found this vexing, as you might imagine—but he was not the sole subject of Hallux’s lectures, not by a long shot. Hallux was an absolute terror when the Bewits had company, giving long lectures on the difference between the male and female mind, the faults of modern English parents when it came to raising their children, and, oddly enough, the necessity of Colonial independence. He also, in spite of owning over a dozen silk coats, absolutely condemned fancy dress in men, but most especially in women, and considered manners a failure rather than an accomplishment of polite society. Indeed, he was deliberately rude and abusive when anyone disagreed with him over his pet passions, making his points by presenting evidence until all were sick of it—and if that didn’t work, he resorted to hurling insults, and once—just once—the sugar bowl. Mr. Bewit once called his cousin a “firebrand,” but the only conflagrations Hallux Dryden seemed to ignite were under the bottoms of anyone who came to dine or play cards, prompting them to run out the front door with all possible haste.
    Thus, while Tom was happy enough to run errands for the man, as they were always peculiar or interesting, he found Hallux’s society completely hideous. But, he couldn’t complain about it, not too much at any rate—Hallux was the one thorn in the rosebush that was his new life. Even Daniel Holland, after his initial nastiness, seemed disinclined to actively torment him—he just teased Tom, and pushed him about a little.
    Tom missed his wigs, and Hizzy too, of course he did… but at the same time, he could hardly be blamed for noticing there were undeniable advantages to residing in the servants’ quarters in 12 Bloomsbury Square instead of in a garret in St. Martin’s Lane. In fact, the longer he spent away from his apprenticeship, the less he wished to return to it.
    He should have known it was all too good to last.

 
     
     
     

     
    The worst day of Tom’s new life began much like any other. During breakfast one of the footmen handed him a delivery, a heavy