A Gentleman's Secret ~ The third novelette from "Different Desire", a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic novelette collection

Do not be an idiot ! Even African humans are not that small , and what the hell would they have done to make them that tiny ? Shrunk them?”
    “Are you sure you do not need help with that lock?”
    “No! Curse you!”
    The sound of wood splintering and glass breaking was accompanied with an impressive stream of uncultivated and obscene curses, which made my eyebrows climb to my forehead. I had edged closer, and this was the perfect opportunity for me to make my entrance .
    “I do not recall inviting unknown gentlemen, such as you, to my house in the middle of the night,” I said calmly with a loud voice and raised my spear as I took a step into the drawing room. “Not that I believe that I would ever do that ,” I added in distaste for good measure.
     
    *
     
    The break-in at Holland Park Avenue in Kensington was by far the worst burglary attempt I had ever done in my entire career as a thief. It did start off rather well. I had localized a potential house by paying one of the small street urchins, who sold newspapers along the street, to keep an eye open for houses that appeared empty. Then I had talked to one of the pretty maids who worked there, and using my inborn charm , I got the information I was after: t he master of the house, a certain Anthony Percival-Davis , was indeed at some fancy country house outside of London, together with his rich family , and would not come back until after January , when the season started. It was perfect, or so it seemed.
    I decided to bring Little Brian along, which perhaps was the first of many mistakes. Brian was called Little Brian since he was unusually short. I had chosen him because he was slightly daft , but generally good at doing what he was told.
    The best way to enter the house was to scale the stone wall to the back garden and then climb the thick branches of ivy that covered the better part of the white terraced house. The kitchen entrance was barred and had a strong lock , which looked rather daunting to pick , and all the windows on the lower floors had been fitted with rather unwelcoming wrought - iron bars. However, in contrast, the windows on the second floor were almost laughably easy to open. All you need ed wa s a slim knife and you were in.
    Entering the house was , therefore , not a problem; however , the house itself was rather eerie and filled with strange and exotic objects. Brian’s nervous behaviour did not help either, nor did his rambling about strange noises and his sick fascination over the small weird African heads , or wherever the hell they were from. I did not know if they were real human heads or not, and I definit e ly did not want to know. The idea made me slightly nauseous , and I wished that Bria n would stop talking about them!
    However, when I saw the glass cabinet , which was filled with exotic jewellery in the loveliest colour of gold, I kne w that this really would be it: t his was the lucky chance I had been waiting for. Those shiny necklaces and bracelets would be my one-way ticket to finally leave the sodden part of Fleet Street behind forever. I could even start my own business after this . Something a little bit more dignified. Not necessarily legal, of course, but something lucrative and prospective. Like money lending or a betting agent. Well, anyway, there will be plenty of time to decide about that later . T his , however , will finally be the end of my petty burglary career , I concluded.
    And it could have been, except for the unforeseen intervention of the silly dandy, who apparently was not at his fancy country house where he was supposed to be. At the sound of his voice , Brian– stupid , stupid Brian, of all persons!– did the right thing: h e dropped everything and legged it. The lantern , which thanks to the Devil’s own luck did not shatter in a thousand pieces and start a fire, landed safely on the thick carpet next to my feet. The bastard abandoned me! I thought, astonished. T hat I would have done the exact same thing without a moment of regret was irrelevant. That was why I had chosen Brian in the first place. It was his bloody role , not mine, to be caught and then possibly sent to the Tower . I was meant to be the planner, the master mind behind the most successful burglary in Kensington.
    But no. And why did I hesitate? Well, what would you have done if you suddenly were at the point of a ridiculous but nonetheless and non-debatably extremely sharp spear end ? The fact that the man who held it