Page 114 of Rears & Vices

So was Everard. Vitaliy would always weigh principles and ways against any one man’s welfare, no matter whom that one man happened to be to him. The result, the goal was what mattered.

He knew this, had seen it borne out again and again; there was the proof.

Against D’Arcy’s neck, Everard breathed in bitter almond, sea salt, the man’s own sharp scent, and quietly went to pieces. D’Arcy squeezed him tight, as though they floated, vessel-less, on the open sea, and would be parted if he dared let go.

Eventually, Everard raised his head and asked, “Tell me how he turned you.”

“The usual way,” D’Arcy said, nonchalant; but the thickness of his voice gave him away. “In bed.”

Everard managed a playful thump, straight onto the man’s chest. “God.”

“No, no. He didn’t. Vee’s good at speechifying his causes—I know you know because you’re nearly as bad—but I was already a turn-coat in Philadelphia by that time. It was I who reached out initially.”

This surprised Everard not at all.

“But… why?” Not why D’Arcy had reached out, spy to spy—he suspected that carried other implications he wasn’t yet being told, besides that D’Arcy was sometimes irreconcilably reckless. “Why America?”

“Don’t think that I harbour the same conviction Vee carries,” D’Arcy warned, “I don’t. There’s only too much French in me.”

Everard snorted.

“… too much romance and risk-seeking, too. I hated my father with a blistering passion.” He shrugged. “What else would a boy need?”

“A survival instinct?” Everard put forth. “A distinct desire not to be drawn and quartered? Even sons of earls aren’t spared in cases of treason—and the scandal… Do not you have a sister recently come out?”

“Last season, yes. Or perhaps two seasons. Three?” He paused. “The idea was not to get caught. And scandal”—he dimpled down—“Princey’s accomplished that on her own. Went to an American ladies’ school, you know, that’s plenty. And even if she hadn’t, I daresay my tying up and gagging a port-admiral already ranks pretty bad for society.” He eyed Everard with mild suspicion. “You haven’t ever asked after Little Prince before.”

“I’ve a new understanding of what it’s like to find oneself dependent, that’s all.”

D’Arcy pinched him. “Do you, now? Really? Christ, sometimes you’re so offensive, it’s almost endearing. No wonder Vee goes goggle-eyes at you. You’re a challenge wrapped up in a pretty scowl⁠—”

“I beg your pardon.”

“—with a large prick attached.”

“Hmph.” Everard pushed away with a sniff. “I hadn’t meant to be offensive. But tell me more of Philadelphia. It sounds awfully secretive.”

“And shall remain so, I’m afraid.”

This struck Everard as particularly unfair. “But⁠—”

“No. I won’t say, and Vee can’t. Not under any circumstance.”

“So, within this… secret strata… I am to understand you are his superior?”

“More or less,” D’Arcy said cheerfully. “Did you think he called me Lieutenant because of you?”

“Yes, of course I had,” Everard said, bewildered. “In irony. In jest.”

D’Arcy smirked. “The world does ever turn around you.”

“And what else would I have thought, pray?” Everard stood, and began to pace. “You were my first lieutenant four years, Preston. And so far as I understood, the bridge between you and he was only myself. Not some bloody Order of Bizarre Fellows.”

D’Arcy chuckled. “Good guess. ’Tisn’t that one, though, sorry. I’m teasing you,” he admitted. “It was a perfectly reasonable assumption. But, Everard, I tell you this only so that you understand where the blame lies here. Vee didn’t have a choice in this. I couldn’t hit myself, and no one else could be trusted.”

“Of course he had a choice. Still, we’re speaking of the same man? Vitaliy Gray? V. Varfolomey, egalitarian, abolitionist pirate? That man takes orders from you? And fulfilled them for the sake of…” Everard gestured wildly, “… some unknown duty?”

“Again with the disbelieving!” D’Arcy said, but he grinned. “Orders as you and I were used to, they aren’t. That’s to say, they didn’t come from me directly but were more to ensure an essential status quo that Vee’s sworn to uphold. But he owed me more than a favor for York, and my not being discovered as spy benefits everybody involved in any case⁠—”