Old Tom let out a hacking cough and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Me lord,” he said with a toothless grin, “are there any women in this fancy play of yours?”
Nicholas stifled a groan. “Possibly.” He returned his attention to the group as a whole. “Now, I’ll set the scene. You’ll be playing the part of Mr. Hodgkin, a wealthy man who is well-known for getting into a bit of mischief.”
“How old’s this character, my lord?” the rotund man asked as he eyed the younger men. “Sounds like an old man to me.”
“Think of him as your age, Mr…”
“Clancy, my lord.”
Nicholas nodded. “Now, listen carefully.” He explained the “part” he wanted each of them to play, using what he believed Mr. Thompson or his son would be like. Then he motioned to Old Tom. “Why don’t you begin, Mr. White.”
Old Tom stumbled forward. The stench of liquor that wafted off him made Nicholas’s eyes water. “I like me games of chance and drink. That’s how I made me money.”
Why Tibbons had even invited the old drunk was beyond Nicholas. He would have to inquire later.
Nicholas motioned to the rotund man, and he took a step forward. “‘Twas upon the evening of the fifth day of the third month whence my uncle taught me a simple game of cards. During that time, I learned as a young dog trained by…”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Nicholas stifled a groan. This was not a Shakespearian play.
“Thank you, Mr. Prestone. Next.”
By the time the younger man with the dark hair finished, Nicholas was filled with anxiety. None of these men could pass for a wealthy businessman. Or his son.
“You there,” he said, motioning to the final man. “What is your name?”
“Frederick Dean, my lord,” the youngster replied.
“Go on. Give me your best performance.”
Dean sneered and looked Nicholas up and down. “So, you fancy yourself some kinda lord?” He tilted his head, his brows lowering in a menacing fashion. “You may make your money by sitting at a desk like the rest of your kind, but men like me, we’ve other ways of earning our keep.”
Nicholas gaped. This boy would be perfect! He could easily pass as the son of a wealthy businessman who came from lesser means. Granted, he would have to work on his speech but not by much.
“Tibbons, give the others some coin for their time,” Nicholas said. “You, Dean, you’ll stay.”
“So I did well, my lord?” Dean asked.
“You performed very well,” Nicholas replied, grinning. “And you stood out from the others for the role. What do you do for work, Dean?”
“My father owns two hotels, my lord. They’re both in Salcombe, Devon.”
Nicholas frowned. “Why are you in Chatsworth?”
The boy grinned. “Visiting family. We’ve been here about a week and will be leaving tomorrow. When does this play begin?”
“Tomorrow?” Nicholas asked. “Are you saying you’re not remaining in the area?”
“No, my lord. But since most productions take time, I thought I could return when you start rehearsals.”
This time, Nicholas did not stifle his groan. What had seemed a perfect decoy had failed. This simply would not do. Plus, how could he earn this young man’s trust in just a day?
“Unfortunately, I won’t be needing your services after all,” Nicholas said. “Allow me to give you a few more coins for your time.”
When Mr. Dean was gone, Nicholas dropped onto a bale of hay. “Well, Tibbons, it looks as if it’s all over. I’ll admit, this was a desperate plan. It’s no wonder it did not turn out as expected.”
Tibbons gave a sad nod. “Couldn’t you write to Lord Tulk and tell him the Thompsons are away? Maybe you can push the meeting so’s it happens in a few months.”
Nicholas shook his head. “It would not matter. Any man who could play this part is not desperate enough to take up work in the theater. Plus, I must be able to trust the person who takes on this role. And building trust takes time. Then he’ll need time to consider if my stakes are worth his risk. Tulk is not one I’d send after my worst enemy. Deuce it! I should have just taken the man’s life when I had the chance! Then this would all be over.”