Chapter 29
Isaac Jordan met with Nathaniel at Whites in the dining room for a companionable dinner toward the end of the season. The occasion was his first visit into this hallowed establishment of upper society. But this was a treat for Jordan in more ways than just that. It was a celebratory dinner, acknowledging that he had provided the man access to his object of interest as promised. He had made the fop her knight in shining armor, coming to her aid to save her family estates. It was a story from a penny dreadful. It was, in his mind, a testament to his success that St. Pierre had brought him here.
St. Pierre considered this a celebratory dinner, too. He was as good at manipulating advantages as Jordan. At the cost of publicly setting aside his mistress and imitating an altar boy to win Rebecca over, he believed he had gained considerable headway with her. An engagement could be announced soon. He had always admired Rebecca Fogg, thus the second request for her hand after Sir Boniface Fogg died, but still he had been refused. He supposed now that he should have foreseen that. Rebecca had by that time become an independent Miss. Phileas had refused him because the yea or nay had long since been ceded to the lady herself.
But now that I am with the proper authority in the matter, I'm making all the right moves. She will be mine by summer. I don't need to marry; despite the way my brother has been after me. Father wanted it for the closer alliance with her maternal relations. As long as I adhere to the proper attitudes, I will have her. Then I can get back to my usual pursuits.
Jordan quizzed Nathaniel on his progress with Rebecca Fogg. He then reminded Nathaniel of the agreed favor.
Nathaniel smiled at Isaac across the table. "If you had not told me of her financial and family troubles, I would never have gotten near Rebecca. Having me become her knight errant was a stroke of genius. It was just the sort of romantic role I needed. I will propose near the end of the month. So, tell me, what do you want in return? It is yours."
"We have spoken of it before," Jordan said, leaning back in his chair. "You know my ambitions. I am just looking for sponsorship in greener pastures, a membership at this fine establishment for one. I think being on a few hostess lists would facilitate my entry into London society. Going as your guest has been enjoyable, but it is time I go on my own. Of course, I will be on the fringe," Isaac allowed, lowering his voice in humility. "Even a foot in the door will let me make my own opportunities."
Nathaniel listened to his friend with a smile that never wavered. Yet inside, he wondered where on earth the man had come to such delusions of grandeur. A membership at Whites–I would be invited to turn my membership in for suggesting this tradesman be considered. As it is, I greased a hand or two to get him into the dining room off-peak time. Where did this fool get the impression that I would be his society mama?
Nathaniel St. Pierre was of the ton. It was an elite group. Yes, he had taken this man to a few parties where the caliber of guests had not been an issue. He had obviously not impressed on Issac the rules well.
One was born into the ton. If one were female, had the right connections, a good dowry, as Rebecca had, one could marry into it. A man, if he were rich enough and had royal favor, as Phileas Fogg did, could enter, too. Heroes of the realm and other famous people were occasionally invited to join for the duration of their notoriety. But Isaac Jordan was not that rich or famous. He had no royal patronage and was still very much a common tradesman.
"My friend," Nathaniel said, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you don't have the price of admittance to that. I could get you in here only because it is an off-peak day, and the porter accepted my reference. I might get you some better clients and I might arrange an entry into government service, if my brother will lend his name. Have you ever considered working in the ministry of Finance? That can be lucrative for a man of your talents. Think on those things and get back to me."
Nathaniel stood and gave his friend a strong pat to the shoulder. He then excused himself to join other friends.
Isaac Jordan sat watching Nathaniel leave to join a group of other sons of the peerage with barely held rage. Not one of those overdressed dandies had worked a day in their lives. They had everything handed to them and walked and talked like their privileges were a God given right. Jordan seethed inside at the arrogance of it. Did they not know that men such as him allowed them to enjoy their excesses? He, Isaac Jordan, invested grew the fortunes that allowed them to have pretty things and go to pretty places and wear pretty clothes and give pretty parties. The fop turned me down with a pretty offer to serve more obnoxious pretty fops in exchange. That is not what I wanted. You will pay dearly for this snob.
Adding injury to insult, the dining room maitre'd came at that moment, asking if he were finished with his meal. The man was completely correct in his manner, but the implication was clear. Without St. Pierre with him, Isaac Jordan was not welcome.
Jordan stood, letting himself be led out quietly, but he was seething inside. He had intended to use the detective's information to keep Rebecca in line had she tried to wiggle out. A fresh idea was building. If I am not good enough, then society's arrogance will be Nathaniel's downfall. I will ruin him through Rebecca.