alone, and you may imagine how pleased he was to finally bring me such a treasure. When he saw you taking such care to dispose of some papers, I rather think he was hoping for some shameful account of your debts, for I know your weakness for gambling. But this ... this was a pearl beyond anything I could have hoped for."
My panicked thoughts seemed to move with treacle-slow speed. Later that evening, I had found that the writing of such a letter had depressed me beyond words. Holmes had finally moved from the settee and was ensconced in his bedroom, scraping out something discordant and melancholy upon his violin, and so I had taken myself off to seek male companionship in a small, select establishment that I had frequented once or twice since moving to London. If this "Paul" had been following me on my solitary excursions then that must mean that–
I looked at Milverton sharply, to find him nodding as he read my fears in my eyes.
"Yes. I have known for some time of your preference for, shall we say, masculine company. Nothing that I can prove, of course; it would only be my word against yours. But this," he tapped the letter pointedly against his other hand, "is worth its weight in gold."
Had it been only myself implicated, the matter would have been grave enough. However, sodomy is a crime that requires a partner, and regardless of how much I denied his knowledge of my proclivities, Holmes would almost certainly be dragged into this as well. Even if he were cleared at the trial, I could see every possible consequence of such a course of events – the probing questions, the ignominy, the honoured career ending in irreparable failure and disgrace.
All this was considering solely the legal ramifications of exposure. What this would do to my friendship with Holmes and his opinion of me, I did not dare to consider. I met Milverton's eyes again, and knew I was beaten.
"How much?" I asked, through a dry throat.
"Three thousand pounds," he answered calmly.
"It is impossible!"
"Come, come, Doctor. Are you really so sure? You have not even considered how you might exert yourself to raise the sum, it is not impossible for you at all. And have you seriously contemplated the consequences of failure?" he smiled at me sardonically.
"Please," I begged, "give me some time to come up with the money."
He shrugged. "Very well, it is all one to me. Although," as he turned from the carriage, into which he had been about to climb, "if you truly found yourself at a loss then there is something which you could do for me."
Every instinct in my body was screaming in protest at negotiating with the man, but I did not see a choice.
"Name it," I said curtly.
"Apply pressure to Sherlock Holmes to ... persuade the Lady Eva to find the amount I indicated."
I laughed harshly.
"Evidently you have no idea of the man's character. You will have more luck extracting the sum you mention from me. Even if I thought he would countenance such an outrageous suggestion from me, I would never attempt to persuade him to a dishonourable course of action."
"Ah well," Milverton shrugged again. "Just as you like. Although, if I may offer my literary opinion, your charming letter does not give the impression that, shall we say, dishonouring him is something to which you have a very great aversion."
The thought of this poisonous adder of a man reading those words I had not meant for any eyes save my own was too much. I started towards him, but even as I moved he placed his hand once more on his revolver.
"Have a care, Doctor," he breathed. "I am very well-armed, there are police constables patrolling the corner of the street, and Jonathon here will certainly step in to help me. Violence will not avail you anything."
I glanced at the footman standing impassively by the carriage. He was a tall fellow, dark-haired and broad in the shoulders, with a countenance that was far too open and handsome for his sordid work, and he returned my look without the
My panicked thoughts seemed to move with treacle-slow speed. Later that evening, I had found that the writing of such a letter had depressed me beyond words. Holmes had finally moved from the settee and was ensconced in his bedroom, scraping out something discordant and melancholy upon his violin, and so I had taken myself off to seek male companionship in a small, select establishment that I had frequented once or twice since moving to London. If this "Paul" had been following me on my solitary excursions then that must mean that–
I looked at Milverton sharply, to find him nodding as he read my fears in my eyes.
"Yes. I have known for some time of your preference for, shall we say, masculine company. Nothing that I can prove, of course; it would only be my word against yours. But this," he tapped the letter pointedly against his other hand, "is worth its weight in gold."
Had it been only myself implicated, the matter would have been grave enough. However, sodomy is a crime that requires a partner, and regardless of how much I denied his knowledge of my proclivities, Holmes would almost certainly be dragged into this as well. Even if he were cleared at the trial, I could see every possible consequence of such a course of events – the probing questions, the ignominy, the honoured career ending in irreparable failure and disgrace.
All this was considering solely the legal ramifications of exposure. What this would do to my friendship with Holmes and his opinion of me, I did not dare to consider. I met Milverton's eyes again, and knew I was beaten.
"How much?" I asked, through a dry throat.
"Three thousand pounds," he answered calmly.
"It is impossible!"
"Come, come, Doctor. Are you really so sure? You have not even considered how you might exert yourself to raise the sum, it is not impossible for you at all. And have you seriously contemplated the consequences of failure?" he smiled at me sardonically.
"Please," I begged, "give me some time to come up with the money."
He shrugged. "Very well, it is all one to me. Although," as he turned from the carriage, into which he had been about to climb, "if you truly found yourself at a loss then there is something which you could do for me."
Every instinct in my body was screaming in protest at negotiating with the man, but I did not see a choice.
"Name it," I said curtly.
"Apply pressure to Sherlock Holmes to ... persuade the Lady Eva to find the amount I indicated."
I laughed harshly.
"Evidently you have no idea of the man's character. You will have more luck extracting the sum you mention from me. Even if I thought he would countenance such an outrageous suggestion from me, I would never attempt to persuade him to a dishonourable course of action."
"Ah well," Milverton shrugged again. "Just as you like. Although, if I may offer my literary opinion, your charming letter does not give the impression that, shall we say, dishonouring him is something to which you have a very great aversion."
The thought of this poisonous adder of a man reading those words I had not meant for any eyes save my own was too much. I started towards him, but even as I moved he placed his hand once more on his revolver.
"Have a care, Doctor," he breathed. "I am very well-armed, there are police constables patrolling the corner of the street, and Jonathon here will certainly step in to help me. Violence will not avail you anything."
I glanced at the footman standing impassively by the carriage. He was a tall fellow, dark-haired and broad in the shoulders, with a countenance that was far too open and handsome for his sordid work, and he returned my look without the
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