Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [28]
“I do not take your point.” Eleanor was not yet satisfied.
At that moment they were joined by a young man with hooded, brilliant eyes, a strong nose and the most remarkably beautiful, curling, deep auburn hair, which was ill cut at present, and far too long. He plunged in to answer the question without hesitation, and without waiting to be introduced.
“Money is a convenience by which civilized man has agreed to make bartering immeasurably easier, but it is a mechanism.” He held up long, sensitive hands. “And if our agreement fails because one party possesses all the goods that are worth bartering, then the means itself is useless. A loaf of bread is always a loaf of bread. It will feed a man for so many days. But a piece of paper is worth whatever we agree it is worth, no more, no less. When the agreement fails, we have financial anarchy.” He looked from one to another of them. “That is what happens when we lend money to people at exorbitant rates, and pay them too little for their goods or their labor, so they can never earn sufficient to repay us. The fact that we begin with the advantage enables us to set the prices we will pay, and keep the debtor always in our power.”
“You sound passionate about it, Mr….” Vespasia said with interest; indeed her hesitation because she was unaware of his name did not carry the criticism of his manners that Charlotte would have expected.
“Peter Valerius.” He introduced himself with only the faintest blush for having intruded in such a fashion. “Forgive me. Yes I am.”
Charlotte, as hostess for the evening, introduced the others, remembering to speak of Vespasia first, as the socially senior member, and herself last. She could not recall meeting Mr. Valerius as he came in, but she could scarcely ask him now if he had been invited.
“I think usury, whether local in one man to another, or international in one nation to another, is one of the vilest practices of humanity.” He turned to Charlotte. “I hope trade and banking practices will be subjects to which Mr. Radley will turn his attention?”
“I am sure he will,” Charlotte said quickly. “I shall draw his attention to it myself. He is highly sensitive to social wrongs—”
“It will not win him his party’s approval,” Valerius warned her, seeming hardly aware of Lord Byam’s presence almost at his elbow. “He will win himself few friends, and certainly no chance of promotion to office.”
“I don’t think he is aiming or hoping for high office,” she said candidly. “It would be more than good enough to influence those who do.”
He smiled suddenly and vividly. In his intense face the gesture was both charming and startling.
“And you will no doubt learn Mr. Fitzherbert’s views in the matter,” Byam said wryly.
“But of course,” Valerius agreed with wide eyes. “Is this not what these very delightful social gatherings are for? To learn who believes what, and who is prepared to fight, how hard, and at what risk?”
“Very blunt,” Byam said ruefully. “I see why you do not run for office yourself, Mr. Valerius.”
Valerius colored very slightly, but he was not deterred. However before he could pursue the subject any further they were joined by a duchess like a galleon under full sail, followed by her three daughters.
“My dear Lady Byam,” she said in a penetrating contralto. “How perfectly delightful to see you. Is this not a magnificent ball?” She lowered her voice only fractionally in what was apparently meant as a confidence. “And I really do believe this is Mrs. Radley’s own house! At least Lady Bigelow swears it is. So many ladies hire other people’s houses these days, their own not being suitably impressive, one never knows.” She opened her pale eyes wide. “How can one possibly assess someone if one does not even