Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [515]
It pleased him, though, to be accepted as a junior member of such a company, and he ate and drank in a state of great contentment.
There were undercurrents in the conversation tonight, however, that he detected but did not fully understand. All the company seemed aware that something was going to happen. There were occasional nods and winks, some directed, he thought at him. There was also, as the evening wore on, a constant barrage of conversation from the group he did not know about racing, wagers and gambling matters. He knew Salisbury races well enough and he prided himself that he could play a fair game of whist; he could take a hand at cribbage, and everyone was familiar with vingt-et-un and quinze. But these men spoke of other games that he had never even heard of.
Once or twice he tried to smile knowingly when some remark was made to him that he did not understand; but he felt a little uncomfortable. He drank more wine than usual.
Was it his imagination, or had Fiennes Wilson changed? At the smaller dinners he had been to, and when he had gone hunting, Wilson had always been kindly towards him and paid him special attention. Perhaps it was just the larger company, but now his friend’s face seemed rather distant. There was a new hardness in his eyes too, that almost matched those of his gambling friends. As Adam gazed along the table at him, he felt a faint sense of disappointment. He drank some more, and talked earnestly to the man on his right – though afterwards he could remember nothing of what he had been saying.
It was well into the evening that the girls came in. There were ten of them. “Enough to go round us all,” someone cried.
“I’ll share with Shockley,” the fellow opposite him remarked loudly. “He looks too damned drunk to need his share.” It was a joke. But the tone of the man’s voice was unfriendly.
There was laughter at this and he glanced at Wilson. But his friend’s eyes only returned a hard glazed stare, which said – fend for yourself.
There was music. The girls danced. He had seen dancing before, but never anything so good. Sinuous, fluid, erotic, they entertained them for half an hour and Adam, who had only lost his virginity with a girl in the town the month before, felt a strong desire for them. Though he had to admit the gibe about his being too drunk was probably correct. For the time being, however, the girls retired and the young men continued drinking.
It was a little later, when he had leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment that he heard the conversation two places to his left. It was between one of the men he didn’t know and another, who had been on the hunt with him, and who he had thought was his friend.
“Who’s the young fellow?”
“Shockley.”
“Never heard of him. What is he?”
“Nothing much. A dependant of Wilson’s of some kind.”
“Oh.”
They had gone on to discuss other matters.
He kept his eyes closed. A wave of coldness passed over him, then he blushed. He opened his eyes a little. No one was looking at him.
A dependant. It had not occurred to him they did not accept him as one of themselves. He was younger of course; but he thought he was a gentleman.
Suddenly the realisation came over him, and as he thought of his father’s modest house and the frown on his face when he had originally to pay for the commission, he saw exactly how he must appear to the young blood on his left. A dependant – was that all he was?
One or two of the girls reappeared, not to dance, but to sit with the men. He saw that Wilson had one on his knee.
There was talk of further entertainment. Would they have more dancing, music, cards? Some suggested that they needed a song.
It was then that Wilson looked up. His eyes were heavy-lidded now. His handsome, Grecian