“My apologies, ma’am,” said Hal with a nod in her direction, “but I was speaking to your charming associate.”
“I believe,” said the stocking woman, “that the ‘house’ you should most concern yourself with is your home. Unless you are too inebriated to find it.”
There was a choked sound behind her as Patton stifled a laugh. Francis felt no such reticence and enjoyed himself loudly.
Hal found it hard not to laugh himself. He might be the worse the wear for drink, but not so cupshot as to miss both the humor and irony. He was making no progress charming the woman, which was a bit unusual. He wasn’t an arrogant man, but he was an observant one. Women – both improper and upstanding – tended to, if not melt, then at least soften around him. It was actually refreshing to find one who seemed to have little use for him. Before he could explore the intriguing possibilities she presented, the Watch arrived.
“Wot’s goin’ on ‘ere?” asked the larger of the two uniformed officers.
“Thank heaven you’ve come,” said Mrs. Seton. “You should arrest this man for harassing my friend. Then you can tell this whoremonger….” She pointed her rather bony finger at Patton. “…to let us into his business so we can shame the men inside.”
“Mrs. Seton,” said the stocking woman, “I still do not think that is a wise course of action.”
“Be quiet!” said the older woman. “I’m in charge here.”
“Actually, I’m in charge,” said the officer, with wary glances at both Patton and the two lords who’d been speaking to the ladies. “And there’s laws against people creatin’ a disturbance outside a place of business. I’m afraid you ladies will have to take yer protest somewhere else.”
“This is preposterous!” said Mrs. Seton.
“It’s also the law,” said the officer. “And you wouldn’t want us to ‘ave to take you to Bow Street.”
It looked like Mrs. Seton might want that very thing, but the stocking woman turned to the other ladies who appeared more than ready to retreat. “I believe the prudent action would be to decamp so we can fight another day,” she said. “It looks like Mr. Patton and his police force have made their position clear.”
Hal watched as she began herding the women away from Dill’s. He hadn’t missed her implication that this section of the Watch was bought and paid for by Patton. He suspected she was right. He saw Patton and the officers exchange a meaningful glance. Then he made a move to follow the stocking woman, until Francis nudged his elbow.
“Shall we?” he said, indicating Dill’s. “Surely you can stay out just a bit longer, can’t you?”
“I shall spot you ten pounds each,” said Patton, “It’s a reward for helping to move the ladies on their way. It’s the least I can do for two lords such as yourself.”
“What say you, Hal?’ asked Francis once again.
Hal was torn between wanting to catch up with the stocking woman he’d thought so much about during the past few weeks and joining his friend in the hell. Considering how little progress he’d made with the woman, he took the sure thing.
“I suppose another hour wouldn’t hurt,” said Hal, as he followed his friend into Dill’s.
CHAPTER TWO
Melanie Sutton wasn’t a morning person. The sun streaming through her window shortly after dawn did not produce the desire to rise and start a new day. It made her want to throw something, then roll over and go back to sleep.
It wasn’t that she was a lazy person, prone to sleeping the day away. She was quite the opposite. She enjoyed walking, which was a remnant of her days in America where she was able to walk through the streets of Philadelphia without a maid trailing behind her. Just the thought of her old life made her a bit wistful, but she refused to be sad when her new life offered so many opportunities.
It’s not that her old life had been so bad, with the notable exception of losing both her parents when she’d been but ten years old. Not a day went by that she didn’t miss them. Her Aunt Shirley had grudgingly taken her in. And while her maternal aunt hadn’t been the most loving of guardians, Mel had never been hungry or without shelter. She’d even received a thorough education at a Quaker school, which is where she’d first become involved with reform work. Aunt Shirley had thought the reform activities were a waste of time, but she hoped Mel might learn enough to support herself as a governess or, even more promisingly, meet a man to marry.
Neither of those plans came to fruition. Aunt Shirley died when Mel was nineteen, and even though she thought herself capable of being on her own, her Uncle Frederick, the Earl of Heffner, had insisted she come to England. She only learned later that he and his wife Evelyn had wanted her to move in with them immediately after her parents’ death, but it had been Shirley who insisted she remain in America. Mel wasn’t sure why her aunt had done that, though perhaps the guardian stipend she received from Melanie’s trust had something to do with it.
Or mayhap she simply hadn’t wanted to be alone.
So, six months earlier, Mel had moved to London to live with her aunt and uncle and their daughter Mary, who was a year younger than Mel and about to make her come-out. It was her aunt and uncle’s wish for the two girls to make their debuts together. While Melanie cared little for social consequence, Uncle Frederick and Aunt Evelyn were two of the most loving people she’d ever known. She didn’t want to hurt their feelings by refusing a kindness they wanted to bestow.
So earlier that year, she’d donned her white gowns and accompanied her family to any number of balls and ton events. And while Mary had delighted in the social whirl, Mel had sat quietly amongst the wallflowers and chaperones. At least she did that whenever Aunt Evelyn wasn’t looking. Her good-intentioned aunt had thrown her in the path of any number of eligible gentlemen but none of them had really interested Mel.
And it was clear, at least to Mel, that none of them had fancied her.
It had taken her a while to learn the intricacies of a proper British conversation. It seemed ladies were never allowed to express an opinion about any subject other than the weather, the latest fashions or how splendid the ball/luncheon/musicale was. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to get to know a gentleman if she couldn’t engage him in a real conversation. She certainly couldn’t agree to marry anyone simply because he had a title and a certain amount of income. Although, those seemed to be the criteria ladies of her acquaintance were most interested in. Even her cousin Mary seemed more interested in title and income than taking the real measure of a man.
Just when Mel thought she would expire from the tedium of the season, she learned of Mrs. Seton’s group, which sought to ban gin and dangerous spirits. While Mrs. Seton was rather more strident than Mel would like, the very idea of helping the lower classes by eliminating the scourge of poisonous spirits was similar to the Quaker teachings she’d been exposed to. And she liked doing something useful with her life.
Besides, it would provide her with sufficient cover for her real mission.
Her aunt and uncle had been wary at first when she said she’d like to attend a few afternoon meetings. However, once she’d discovered that a few other ladies of the ton also attended Mrs. Seton’s meetings, her aunt and uncle had reluctantly agreed to let her go. It probably helped that Aunt Evelyn looked for every opportunity for Mel to gain greater acceptance in society. It had to be obvious that no one called at the house to see Mel, although Aunt Evelyn and Mary did everything to include her when they did have visitors.
As a consequence, Mel had been given permission to attend a few afternoon lectures. What her aunt and uncle didn’t know – and Mel felt horribly guilty for keeping it from them – was that she also accompanied Mrs. Seton on her protests at night. The few upper class member of the group usually skipped those. But you couldn’t very well do any reforming if you didn’t run across people who needed to be reformed.
And they usually only came out at night.
Mel turned over in bed, wondering if she could get just a few mor
e minutes of sleep. But then there was a knock at the door, followed by Mary’s immediate entrance. Her cousin settled herself on the bed with a jolt that thoroughly jostled the still sleepy Mel.
Mary was truly a diamond of the first water. She was petite – several inches shorter than Mel’s height of five feet ten inches. Mary was blonde, blue-eyed, exquisitely mannered and bred from birth to become the perfect wife of a peer. She had her standards for a husband: no one beneath an earl, with at least ten thousand per year and an aversion to time spent in the country. Mary couldn’t see herself being far from the shops, theatre and social whirl of the ton. She’d enjoyed her first season tremendously, despite not yet accepting a proposal of marriage. She’d received more than a few, but none that appealed particularly to her.
“The Raleighs’ ball is tonight,” said Mary with a morning person’s enthusiasm. “What are you going to wear?”
Mel had quite forgotten about the latest ball and witlessly tried to think of an excuse to get out of it.
“Do not even think of not going,” said her cousin with a smile. “It will be one of the biggest events of the little season and simply everyone shall be there. If you ever hope to find a husband, you must attend these events, no matter how boring you find them.”
“I don’t find them boring,” said Mel, who then had to smile when she caught her cousin’s disbelieving look. “All right, so I would rather spend the evening with a good book or in conversation with you and your parents.”
“But what about dancing? You must enjoy that.”
“Considering the fact that I am often taller than my partners, dancing is not quite as much fun for me as it is for you.”
Mary laughed. “Oh, dear, poor Mr. Findlay looked particularly chagrinned when you rose from your chair to your full height once he’d asked you to dance at the Meriwether ball. But I choose to look at your stature as majestic, rather than something to shrink from.”
“I did not say I shrink from it,” said Mel with a grin. “Only that the gentlemen do, which brings up another point. Why does no one say anything at these events?”
“There you are mistaken. A great deal is said,” said Mary. “You just aren’t paying proper attention. You are also overlooking one of the most important parts of a ball – the marvelous gowns. I am looking forward to wearing the blue silk with pearls and you should consider wearing the topaz because it brings out your beautiful eyes.”
“I may not be feeling at all the thing tonight,” said Mel, who dearly wished she could go back to bed and not have to think about another ball.
“You will be in perfect health,” said Mary as she squeezed her cousin’s hand affectionately. “I shall insist upon it.”
As Mary left the room to plan her evening’s wardrobe, Mel threw back the covers. There was nothing for it, she supposed, but to begin the day.
* * *
Ten of the clock came mercilessly early, thought Hal, as he dragged himself into Lynwood’s study for their family meeting. The unplanned stop at Dill’s had dragged on to almost dawn. His stomach was nauseated, his mouth was dry, he had a pounding headache and he was still the tiniest bit drunk. A quick stop in the kitchens – away from his family’s scrutiny – had produced some dry toast, weak tea and the promise of the Kellington family’s special “headache remedy.”
No one knew exactly where the recipe had come from, but it was rumored to have been the original concoction of their longtime butler Heskiss, who’d seen the previous duke through an allegedly wild youth before settling down with his duchess. While Hal couldn’t imagine his father as a wild young man, he had even greater difficulty imagining Heskiss coming up with a potion to combat the ill effects of drink.
He wondered what other secret talents their butler was concealing.
Hal walked into the library to find everyone there before him. Lynwood was seated at his desk, which meant this meeting would be a serious one. Ned, Jane and Violet were back home in Marston Vale, but Arthur and Vanessa were there, recently returned from a very brief wedding trip to assume duties at the Home Office. Lizzie and Riverton were also in attendance. Lizzie looked decidedly green and Hal grimly noted there might be a race for the chamber pot between him and his sister. Lizzie, however, had a perfectly good excuse for her nausea. She was expecting.
Riverton was hovering over his wife and, truth be told, he didn’t look too well himself. Lizzie said he was wearing himself out looking after her. She kept assuring him she was perfectly fine but absolutely miserable. Hal had no doubt she suffered from the nausea, but her perpetual glow since learning she was expecting certainly put paid to any notion that she was anything other than thrilled.
Hal was surprised to see that his maternal aunt Prue was in attendance, along with her longtime companion, Mariah. Aunt Prue and Mariah were family favorites and had helped raise the Kellingtons after they’d been orphaned. Hal was always glad to see them, but their presence at the meeting gave him an ominous feeling because it had been called by his paternal aunt Agatha, the Countess of Crenshaw. Aunt Prue and Aunt Agatha didn’t get along and avoided each other at all cost. There were many reasons for their animosity, but much of it concerned a Kellington family secret. Aunt Prue and Mariah were very much in love, and had been for their twenty-year relationship. Since such unions were illegal in England, it was kept secret. But Hal suspected that even if the relationship hadn’t been an issue, Prue and Agatha just wouldn’t have gotten along.
It wasn’t that Aunt Agatha was a bad person. She was just a high stickler who never really forgave her late brother for marrying so far beneath him socially. Hal’s mother had been the daughter of a baronet and his father had been one of the prizes of the marriage mart. But nothing could keep them apart.
Even death.
As Hal walked into the study slowly, praying Heskiss’s headache remedy would be delivered shortly, all eyes turned to him. He began to understand the purpose of the meeting and wanted nothing more than to turn and flee.
“Henry!” said Aunt Agatha with a volume that would surely split his skull wide open, “you look terrible!”
“Good morning, Aunt,” he said to her dryly, nodding in her direction, then immediately regretted the motion. He turned to his more agreeable relations. “Aunt Prue, Mariah. I did not expect to see you here.”
Aunt Prue, still a beauty in her early ‘40s, looked at him with a combination of sympathy and amusement. “Hal, as much as it pains me to agree with the Countess, I must say you’ve looked better.”
“Shall I ring for tea?” asked Mariah, ever the peacemaker.
“Thank you, Mariah, but I believe Heskiss shall bring me, uh, refreshments.”
“Would this be the kind of refreshments one requires after overindulging?” asked Arthur with his crooked grin. “I daresay you need it. Sure you don’t want me to ring for kippers or kidneys or sausage?”
“Pray cease your teasing,” said Lizzie, looking almost as green as Hal. “For I am your unintended victim.”
At that moment Heskiss entered, carrying a glass of a dubious-looking liquid on a silver tray, which he offered to a grateful Hal. At the same time, a maid set out a platter of crackers, biscuits and cucumber sandwiches.
“Heskiss,” said Lynwood, after looking over the dishes, “is Cook preparing something more substantive?”
The butler looked just the slightest nonplussed before replying, “Your grace, Cook has asked me to, uh, inform you that since breakfast is over, she will serve no food that may make Lady Riverton feel unwell. She further states that should any other lady….” Here, he looked in Vanessa’s direction, “…feel ‘unwell,’ she would like to be informed forthwith so she can adjust the menu accordingly. In the meantime, if anyone wishes for a more substantive repast, she will have a table set in a room away from Lady Riverton and any other lady who might be in a similar ‘condition’.”
“Is this Cook’s way of asking whether my wife is expecting?” asked Arthur with a laugh, completely ignoring V
anessa’s vivid blush.
“I am sure Cook would never be so presumptuous, my lord,” said Heskiss. “Although any such information would be gratefully received.”
“It is quite irregular, Lynwood,” said Aunt Agatha imperiously, “that you would allow your servants to run roughshod over you. It would never happen in my household.”
“I daresay you are correct about your own household, Aunt,” replied Lynwood. “But as Lizzie and Vanessa’s health and comfort are high priorities to me, I am grateful for Cook’s concern. Heskiss, please convey my thanks to her. That will be all.”
As soon as the butler closed the doors behind him, Aunt Agatha began. “Henry, you have been conducting yourself with all the dignity of an East End drunkard.”
Hal was decidedly not in the mood to be the subject of a family debate. “So it appears the difference is solely in geography,” he replied, sipping his drink carefully.
“Aunt,” said Lynwood in his most authoritative manner, “I do not believe name calling solves any problem, and Henry, you will address your Aunt with the respect she deserves. We are all here today because of our concern for you.”
“I assure you there is nothing to be concerned about,” said Hal as he finished his drink. “If I may go?” He started to rise from his chair.
“No, Hal,” said Lynwood, “you may not. For months now, you have stayed out all night drinking and gaming. Your days are spent sleeping off your excesses and you have shown little interest in engaging in activities worthy of your talents.”
“What if drinking and gaming are my talents?” asked Hal, hoping to ease some of the tension in the room.
“Then I would be greatly saddened,” said Lynwood solemnly. “But not as disheartened as I am right now, knowing that my brother is wasting his life.”
Hal looked stricken for a moment, before assuming his mask once again.
“Hal,” said Aunt Prue, gently. “You are a young man about town and enjoying yourself as others do. I daresay, even your brothers and Riverton engaged in many of these activities, even if I am not supposed to know about such things. No one faults you for them. But it does appear that you are rather more deeply involved in this life than your brothers were. And we are worried.”
Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) Page 2