“Not even the name of the man who hired you?” said the Earl softly.
“Nothing, I tell you! No one hired me!”
The Earl shut his snuff-box. “No doubt you are wise,” he said. “He might—who knows?—take steps to put you out of the way, might he not? And I am afraid that even if you had the courage to divulge his name it would not be of very much use. It would be your word against his, Farnaby, and to be honest with you I hardly think yours would be heeded. You see, I have considered all that.”
“No need!” Farnaby said, glaring at him. “I’ve told you I shall divulge nothing!”
“I am glad to find that you have such a wholesome regard for your skin,” murmured Worth. “I hope that it may prompt you to keep away from Sir Peregrine in the future. I should go into the country for a while, if I were you. I have an odd notion that if anything were to happen to him while you were in town you might suffer for it.”
Farnaby forced out a laugh. “Very interesting, my lord, but I’m no believer in premonitions!”
“Ah!” said the Earl. “But that was more in the nature of a promise, Farnaby. One blunder may be forgiven; a second would prove fatal.” He rose and picked up his gloves and cane. “That is all I wanted to say to you.”
Farnaby jumped up. “Wait, my lord!” he said, gripping the edge of the table and seeming to search for words.
“Well?” said the Earl.
Farnaby licked his lips. “I could be of use to you!” he said desperately.