The Burying Ground (9 page)

The figure that stood in front of him seemed every elegant when sitting at a piano, but now that Luke had a closer look, he found the man rather odd-looking. He had a very pale complexion and brown, almost black eyes above a very pointed nose. His eyebrows slanted upward in an attitude of perpetual surprise. He reminded Luke of some small animal, a chipmunk maybe, or a deer mouse, but his thin body exhibited none of the frenetic busyness of either. Instead, he lounged against the frame of the French door and waved one hand in lazy emphasis to his words.

“They're like crows circling carrion, aren't they?” the young man said. “And their mothers are worse. I don't like the feeling of being dead meat. I'm Perry Biddulph, by the way. Peregrine, actually. My misguided parents named me after Peregrine Maitland, the governor of Canada at the time of my birth, and now, mercifully, gone off somewhere else to rule in an arrogant and high-handed way.”

“Luke. Luke Lewis.”

“What a wonderfully simple name. I wish I had it. My brother is named Theophilus, after an ancient and only remotely connected ancestor. He goes by Theo, of course.”

“I've always just been plain Luke,” Luke said.

“Well, just plain Luke, what is it you do to keep yourself occupied?”

“I'm a physician. In Yorkville.”

Perry looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face. “Really? Way out in the woods? How odd. Although I suppose a physician would be useful.”

“Yorkville isn't that far away,” Luke pointed out. “And why should it be odd?” He was finding that Perry had a very disconcerting way of expressing himself.

“Only that our dear Mrs. Van Hansel must want something from you, if she's gone to all the trouble of luring you in from the wilds.”

“What could she want from me?”

Perry shrugged. “I don't know. Something she'll find useful. She wants things from me as well. Lavinia rather collects useful people.”

Luke had no idea how to respond to this.

Perry noticed his puzzlement. “Everyone is here for a reason,” he went on. “They all have something they want from someone else. None of them are quite top-notch, if you know what I mean. The men are all merchants and traders who hope to make deals. Their daughters and wives are hoping to meet people who are on a little higher rung up the social ladder. It's all about making connections. And if the connections are made, Lavinia is the gracious hostess who has facilitated them. Beyond that, her parties provide an opportunity for the married women to socialize with each other. It smoothes the way, apparently, for the husbands to do their bits of business with one another.”

“But I have no interest in deals,” Luke said. “I'm not in business. And I'm certainly not very high on any social ladder.”

“Oh, I don't know about that,” Perry said with a crooked grin. “A handsome young doctor would be a decent enough catch for any of these girls, even if you do live out in the woods.”

“Oh.” Luke suddenly understood why he had been swarmed by so many young women when he entered the Van Hansel's drawing room.

“Of course, you would be even more appealing if you were a lawyer. More money in law than in medicine. Unless, of course, your family has money?”

“No. None.”

“Really? Well, if you're not here to do business, I suppose you're useful as a prize to dangle in front of the mothers until Lavinia figures out what she wants from you.”

Perry seemed to know the Van Hansels well. Well enough, at any rate, to be slightly contemptuous of them. Luke wondered what he knew about Hands.

“Can you tell me what it is that Mr. Van Hansel does? I met Mrs. Van Hansel quite by accident, and I'm afraid I don't know the family.” Luke was curious to hear how Hands presented himself to the regular world. His party guests might not be “top notch,” as Perry put it, but they certainly looked respectable enough. The people in this room did not come from the world of thugs and whores that Hands ruled.

Perry shrugged. “Some sort of businessman. Business, business, business. It keeps them all busy. And their wives and daughters in dresses and cake, of course.”

And as if Perry had magically called to them, two of the young women detached themselves from the food table and started walking toward them. At the same moment, Hands glanced around the room. Luke quickly looked out the window again.

“Are you terribly interested in more chit-chat about the fairness of the weather?” Perry asked.

“No. In fact, I've been standing here desperately trying to figure out how to get back to the door without being seen. I'd like to leave.”

“Ask and ye shall receive.” Perry reached out and turned the handle on one of the French doors. “Ah. Not locked. That makes sense. There are to be fireworks after the meal.” He slipped through to the garden.

Luke took one last look around the room. The two girls had been waylaid by an elderly woman who was determined to get closer to the pastries, but was having difficulty balancing both a plate and her cane. Hands was nowhere to be seen. Luke slid through the door after Perry.

Although the evening was fine, as Luke himself had remarked in conversation several times during the evening, the temperature had dropped, but he found the night air refreshing after the stuffiness of the drawing room. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, and then, by the light of the half moon, he spotted Perry waiting by the garden gate.

“There's an alleyway beyond, but the gate's locked,” he said. “We'll have to climb over.”

“I can do that.” Luke made a stirrup with his hands and more or less heaved Perry over the fence. Then, with a leap, he grabbed the top of the ironwork gate and hauled himself up and over. He landed with a thump on the other side to find Perry brushing the dust from his trousers.

“So what would you like to do now, Dr. Lewis? Fancy a drink?”

“I … I don't drink,” Luke stammered. “And I promised that I'd return to Yorkville as soon as I was finished here. Perhaps some other time,” he added hastily, even though Perry seemed not at all upset by his refusal.

“Any time,” he said. “Just send me a note and we'll make a date.” He handed over his card. “I'm nearly always available.”

Luke hesitated. He was finding Perry very odd, but as he had made no other friends since he'd arrived in Yorkville, he didn't want to close the door on the first person he had met who was willing to be one. Besides, maybe Perry would turn out to be one of those elusive connections that everyone kept going on about. If so, he hoped it would a less dangerous association than the Van Hansels.

“Well,” he said, “perhaps I could spare a half-hour or so.”

“Excellent!” Perry beamed and then led him down Shuter Street to Yonge. “Tell me, Dr. Lewis,” he said as they walked along, “where did you study?”

“Please, call me Luke. My formal training was at McGill University in Montreal. But my real education was quite practical.”

“Oh really? Is your father a doctor as well?”

“No, he's a saddlebag preacher,” Luke replied.

“Which explains why you don't drink?”

“Well, yes.”

“So how does the son of a saddlebag preacher end up with practical experience in doctoring?”

“I went with my brothers to the Huron Tract to farm,” Luke said. “I soon discovered that I wasn't cut out for it, but I liked looking after the animals. I spent a lot of time with my hand up cows' backsides.”

Perry startled several passing pedestrians by hooting with laughter. “That would fit you not only for a career in medicine, but as a prime candidate for capture by the flouncy girls in Lavinia's drawing room,” he said. “They're all rather bovine, don't you think?”

“It wasn't all just cows, of course. I went from doctoring livestock in Huron to disposing of dead Irish bodies in Kingston. They put them all in a pit, you know.” Luke hadn't ever said much about his experiences in the fever sheds, other than to Ben. But for some reason, he was finding it easy to talk to this newfound acquaintance.

“A rather large number of Irish seem to have survived in spite of everything, haven't they?” Perry said. “All you hear on Toronto's streets these days are Irish accents. My father thinks the government should pack them all up and ship them back to Ireland now that the potatoes are growing again. He firmly believes they'll never be good for anything.”

“They'd do just as well as anyone else if they were as well fed. It's too bad they can't get themselves invited to a soiree sometime. I'm sure they'd love a cream cake or two.”

“I agree. I admire their resilience, if not their habits. It's this way.”

Perry led them from the main street into a warren of side laneways that twisted and turned and, Luke was quite sure, doubled back on themselves. He was lost after the second turn. Then Perry stopped in front of an unassuming one-storey building with an oddly scratched wooden doorframe. There was nothing that Luke could see that would mark it as a tavern, yet when Perry swung open the door, Luke's nose was assailed by the sour smells of whisky, beer, and tobacco.

There were only a handful of men standing at a counter that stretched along one wall, but they all seemed to know Perry.

“Peregrine, my good man,” said one of them. “Haven't seen you for a time.”

“I was reined in,” Perry replied. “Father said I needed to stay at home and peruse the absolutely tedious course of study he's laid down. He still seems to think that some university somewhere will allow me to grace its doors someday. George, may I present Luke. Luke, this is George.”

“Welcome, Luke. I haven't seen you here before.”

“Luke is new to town. Actually, he's not even in town, but not far away either. This is his first visit.”

There was a warning in Perry's voice that the other man seemed to comprehend, but Luke wasn't sure what was being warned against. He also didn't know why no last names were offered in the introduction, but he decided to merely follow Perry's lead and see what happened next.

Perry ordered a whisky, but Luke declined anything but a mug of ale. They took their drinks to a table in the corner.

“What do you think of my little hidey-hole, Dr. Luke?”

Luke didn't think much of it. He had only ever been in a tavern or two in his life, but there didn't seem to be anything special about this one. The same scarred tabletops, the same sawdust on the floor and spittoons in the corners. He had never understood the lure of such places, or why hard liquor had such a hold on some men.

“It seems all right,” he replied. “It's more congenial than Mrs. Van Hansel's drawing room at any rate.”

“Yes, all those eager girls. And their dreadful mothers.”

“I enjoyed the musical part of the evening,” Luke said. “Where did you learn to play the piano like that?”

“Oh,” Perry said with a wave of his hand. “My education has been extensive and, generally speaking, a complete waste of time, save for piano lessons. I just dabble, really, but I play well enough for an evening at the Van Hansels'.”

“Do you know Mrs. Van Hansel's … assistant? Cherub?” Luke wasn't sure what position Cherub held exactly, except that she seemed very much in favour with Lavinia.

“Ah yes, the fascinating Cherub. So you've met her?”

“Yes. I was hoping she would be there this evening, but I didn't see her.”

“Of course not. Some of the merchant wives would not allow their daughters to attend if she'd been there. Silly, isn't it? She's far more presentable than any of them. So, tell me, how did you fall into Lavinia's clutches?”

“Two men were attacking Cherub in an alley. I just happened to be going by and intervened. When I escorted her back to her carriage, she introduced me to Mrs. Van Hansel. It seemed like a propitious meeting at the time.”

Perry looked puzzled. “Only at the time?”

“I've met Mr. Van Hansel before, although I didn't realize it until this evening. There are … reasons why it would be better if he didn't meet me again.”

“You crossed him?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Although Luke felt that he needn't guard his tongue overly with Perry, a voice in the back of his mind cautioned him not to be too free with details either. He'd only just met this man, after all, and he had no idea how close Perry really was to the Van Hansel family.

After a few moments, during which it became clear that Luke would be no more forthcoming, Perry shrugged a little and smiled. “A man with a past. You get more and more interesting all the time, Luke Lewis. Never mind, someday you'll tell me, I'm sure.”

“And you? How do you know the Van Hansels?” Safer to steer the conversation away from matters that were best left undisclosed.

“Mister is a friend of father's. Well, acquaintance really. They know each other through the lodge.”

“The Orange Lodge?” That would explain the remarks about the Irish.

“Is there any other lodge in Toronto? Anyway, the Van Hansels, as I said, aren't really top drawer, but father is convinced that I might someday find a wife if exposed to enough female companionship, and he's willing to lower his standards to make it happen, especially if her family has a little money. And of course Lavinia is delighted that I'm available as an extra unattached man for her functions. There aren't so many of us, you know. The eligible ones tend to get snapped up in a hurry. There's a surfeit of women in this city.”

“So why haven't you been snapped up yet?”

“I'm a black sheep, of course. Welcome enough in most drawing rooms, but not considered good marriageable material.”

“And why is that?”

Perry rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Oh let me see … there are so many reasons. I've been asked to leave numerous educational institutions due to an apparently incurable lack of application on my part. I drink. I spend far too much money that isn't mine.” He stopped and looked at Luke directly. “And Father may not realize it, but I'm sure you know the fourth reason.”