“Yes, sir.”
His destination was an upscale street in Mayfair, not too far from Hatbrook House. While he had no interest in Courtnay’s daughter, he wanted to fit in well enough to ask questions about his mother. His brother had been down to Heathfield and was back again. He hoped it wasn’t for the purpose of attending this party with him, but the carriage would take him to Hatbrook and they would arrive together.
“Tell me about Courtnay’s daughter,” Judah said to his brother, as the carriage rattled along the graveled streets.
“She’s not for you,” Hatbrook said.
Judah rested his elbow against the wall and put his hand to his chin. “Then why did you mention her at all last week?”
“She’s an eligible heiress, but her father insists on her residing in Liverpool after her marriage.” He pronounced the name of the city with great distaste.
“She agrees to that?”
“She is entirely under her father’s thumb. Last year, she was quite in love with an earl’s younger son, but the father said no because he had no money. Perfectly decent fellow.”
“Just someone like me. No property of his own.”
He held up a finger. “Not your drive. No army, no position. But he has found another bride; wedding coming up when the Season gets going again.”
Judah grinned. “At least he had a focus.”
Hatbrook’s hand closed into a fist. “Indeed. And what about you? To be blunt, where has all your army pay and estate allowance gone? I realize I could not afford to be generous when I first inherited, but I did send what I could. I never understood you to have a gambling habit like Father and you claimed to live simply. It wasn’t until you came to the house in that appalling old evening suit that I realized how poor you really were.”
“Invested,” Judah said bluntly, not offended, because he too remembered how their house and property had fallen apart as their father gambled everything away. “If the ship ever gets here, I will be in funds.”
“Ship?” Hatbrook’s gaze sharpened.
“Yes. I invested in a cargo of emeralds, rubies, and sapphires. Watched them load myself. Funded by other gentlemen officers and Lord Burnham.”
“Ah, formed a syndicate, did you?”
He was flattered by his brother’s keen interest. “The profit should be enough to purchase property and set up a household properly. I could reinvest, of course, if it all goes off well.”
“Bit of a gamble.” Hatbrook rubbed at his chin.
Judah didn’t like having to defend himself, and if this was anyone but his brother, he would not. “Everyone involved is reliable. The ship captain, a man called Howard, is well thought of, and the ship is sound. It’s not faro.”
“Of course not, and I’ve never heard anything negative about Lord Burnham. Don’t think he’s in Town yet.”
“It’s early still.”
“And yet the middle of September,” Hatbrook mused. “This year has been the happiest of my life, but it has flown by so fast it is hard to grasp any small piece of it.”
Judah smiled. “I hope the memories will fly back in old age. That is supposed to happen. The good memories become clear again, so we can bore our grandchildren with them.”
Hatbrook’s lips thinned. “Our parents did not live to be old.”
“Worried about that, are you? I only have half the worry.”
“And no sign of my medical complaints, either. No, you did well in that regard and Alys will keep me going.”
Judah leaned forward. “If I am interpreting Mother’s letters correctly, my father may still be alive.”
Hatbrook scrubbed his lips with his finger. “Oh? The mystery is solved so soon?”
“If I am right it is a delicate situation. But at least I would know. Do you remember Mother’s friend Sally? I never found more to her name than that, but she appears to have been her most faithful correspondent in our early years.”
Hatbrook stared at the carriage ceiling, then shook his head. “No. Maybe she was someone Mother quarreled with later. Or she died.”
“She is my goal tonight. I will talk to Mother’s old cronies and see if I can identify Sally.” They had joined the queue of carriages waiting to disembark in front of Courtnay’s house by then. “Why doesn’t he look for a husband for his daughter in Liverpool?”
“I’m not certain, since he doesn’t seem insistent on a title. What he’s after is something of a mystery.”
“What was his connection to Mother?”
“Simply that they were of an age, and his guests are likely to be Mother’s kind of second-tier Society. Those who mostly live in London year-round.”
“Too poor for country houses?”
“Or they rent them out, or they are falling down. Or very disgraced, like Earl Gerrick.” Hatbrook’s normally impassive face showed disgust.
“And all his Cross kin?” Judah couldn’t help interjecting.
“And Lord and Lady Mews. Everyone mixed up in that decadent circle. A lesser version of the Marlborough House set.”
Hatbrook’s mention of Marlborough House, the home of the Prince of Wales, perked Judah’s ears. “I suppose Mother was rather decadent in her youth.”
“She would have fit perfectly into the end of the last century, one assumes, but such behavior was rather frowned upon in the high Victoria and Albert years.”
“The Prince of Wales is about the same age as Mother and her friends. Were they part of that set, before they became, well, a lesser version?”
“I can’t imagine they had the funds by the time the prince was married and embraced his present lifestyle. Prince Albert was still alive when you were born, you know.”
Did Hatbrook understand where his private thoughts and the correspondence had led him? He wanted to protect this dream of his. “I must say I’ve never understood her disgrace. Surely the marquess was the source of all the family pains.”
Hatbrook pressed his lips together, the only sign the topic discomforted him. “Whatever happened, it was before I can really remember. She wasn’t very nice, you know, not to anyone.”
“But she was a marchioness.”
“Not to anyone,” Hatbrook repeated. “I realize now that she was very ill after Father died, but if she’d been that unpleasant in her early years, before I really knew her, she probably made enemies. Without money to spend, no one would have cared to cultivate her.”
“Sad.”
“Yes, very. Society is hungry. You must have something to offer. Charm, money, beauty, connections . . . something.”
“What do you think I have to offer?”
Hatbrook smiled wickedly. “Beauty? The promise of fabled gems?”
“Connections,” Judah interjected.
“I do not think your connections are much to barter upon,” Hatbrook disagreed.
“Yet here you are escorting me to a party of Liverpudlians and aging roués.”
“Quite.”
The carriage jerked to a stop and a few moments later a footman opened the door. Judah slapped his hat back on his head as soon as he exited, following Hatbrook up the steps. He felt like an actor entering the stage for the first time, as this was his first taste of Society.
After running the gauntlet of servants, they entered a grand drawing room. Wild seascapes decorated the walls and the ceiling was painted with mythological scenes. When Judah saw the crowd, he felt for a moment like Sir Alexander Burnes, facing the mob in Kabul. He had expected a small gathering, given the month and unfashionable, if presumably wealthy, crowd. For a moment, he focused on the carpet, which was covered with fantastical flowers in unusual colors.
Hatbrook patted him on the shoulder as a tall, broad, graying man approached. Their host?
“My lord, I am so pleased you accepted our invitation. May I presume this is Lord Judah?”
“Indeed, this is my brother, Captain Shield,” Hatbrook said smoothly, shaking the proffered hand. “He has made London his home just this past six
weeks or so.”
“It is a pleasure,” Courtnay said, offering his hand to Judah. “I hope we will see much more of you around Town. The entertainment is sparse now but you will find yourself with a plethora of amusements soon.”
Judah smiled thinly. “I am a working man, and that keeps me amused.”
“A man must have his work,” Courtnay agreed. “No matter what is fashionable. I myself am in dye manufacturing. Are you managing your brother’s interests?”
“No, his wife’s,” he said. “Redcake’s, to be exact.”
“Ah, an excellent establishment. I believe we have a cake from them tonight. My daughter arranged that.”
“I shall have to take a look.”
“I will find her for you,” Courtnay said readily.
Judah felt that he might not be found wanting, despite being a second son of no fortune. “Most kind.”
As Courtnay walked away, Judah held up his hand to his brother. “I can feel your smirk from here.”
“He must want a man with a work ethic for his daughter.”
“Or the brother of a marquess is better than the son of an earl.”
“There is that,” Hatbrook allowed, glancing around. “Ah, Lady Mews.”
A middle-aged lady with large feathers poking from her hair turned to them. “Why, my lord. I thought you would cut me.”
“Did I not respond to your letter of condolence?”
She tilted her head, presumably to display her fine neck. Or the magnificent emerald necklace clasped around her throat. “Yes, you did. I am remembering New Year’s, I suppose. I assumed I would be in disgrace still.”
“You really shouldn’t play with boys, my lady.”
She smiled. “Manfred Cross is hardly a boy.”
Judah’s attention perked at the mention of a Cross. He supposed Manfred must be one of the scandalous ones.
Hatbrook sighed. “I want to make my brother known to you, Lady Mews. This is Captain Shield.”
Judah inclined his head, as did she.
“It is hard to believe that I’ve never seen you, given that I was such close friends with your dear mama.”
“I had a rusticated childhood.”
Lady Mews perused his person blatantly, her gaze capturing the up-to-date apparel. “As did your sister. But I understand she will be presented soon?”
“That is true.”
She smiled, exposing excellent teeth. “I do look forward to making her acquaintance.”
Judah took a step toward her. “Speaking of acquaintances, we have been going through Mother’s papers.”
“Oh?” Lady Mews’s hand fluttered to her white throat. She played with the shortest of her three ropes of pearls, dangling below the emerald necklace.
“Yes. We cannot remember one of the dear friends of her youth. Did you know Mother’s friend Sally?”
Lady Mews twirled her finger in her second rope of pearls. “You know, Captain Shield, I was several years younger than your dear mama. I don’t believe I met her until the midsixties.”
He believed her. She didn’t look past forty. “The correspondence I’ve seen was earlier.”
“Then I am afraid I cannot help you.” She patted his arm, her fingers lingering on his sleeve.
Courtnay approached, with a corpulent young lady dressed in an overabundance of lace and corsetry, such that her breasts were put on display as if in a sample case. Judah’s first thought was she should be prevented from eating the cake, lest her dress explode from her body. His second was a man could suffocate in that bosom. His third was his brother must be very happily married indeed, for when he glanced over, he realized his brother’s gaze had never drifted below the young lady’s neck.
Lady Mews, on the other hand, seemed fascinated by the sight. Her hand drifted to her own torso, shaped upon the most delicate feminine lines. Judah thought she’d never been beautiful, or even pretty, but her form might have been exceptional once.
“My lord, Captain Shield, may I present my daughter, Miss Victoria Courtnay?” Courtnay said, tugging her forward.
“Hello, dear,” Lady Mews said. “Such a pleasure to see you so blooming.”
Judah wasn’t sure what to make of that comment, but he inclined his head as the girl curtsied. Hatbrook cleared his throat in an irritating manner.
“Your father said you might show me the cake you ordered from Redcake’s. I am most interested in it.”
“Why, Captain Shield?”
He appreciated her bold manner. “I manage the establishment.”
Her large gray eyes brightened instantly. “You work around those lovely cakes every day?”
“I do indeed.”
She clasped her hands together, her dance card waving as it hung from her wrist.
“Perhaps I could claim a dance as well?”
She stared at him a moment, shrewd eyes so like her father’s assessing his potential, then peered at her card as if she needed to wear spectacles. “I believe I have a waltz available.”
“Excellent,” he said grandly. “Pencil me in.”
She scribbled his name down with the attached writing instrument. He was concerned to see the available waltz was one of the last ones. It would be a long evening.
“Will you be dancing a great deal, Captain Shield?” she asked.
“You are the first lady I have offered for,” he assured her. “But I see you have been much in demand.”
“It is my party.”
“Of course.” He glanced at her father. “Is this a good time to see the cake? Or does the dancing start soon? I have not been at all in Society. This is my first evening out.”
Miss Courtnay’s mouth rounded. “You are a debutant!” She laughed heartily.
While her deeper voice did not have the soothing, bell-like tone of Miss Cross’s, nonetheless her laugh was a pleasant feminine noise. In truth, he thought she might be a rather likeable girl.
“Yes, there is time to see the cake,” said Courtnay indulgently. “But do not take too long, dear. As you say, this is your party.”
His daughter patted his cheek and looked expectantly at Judah. He held out his arm and she took it, then strolled along beside him, breathing heavily.
“Will you be staying here through the rest of the year?” he asked. “I understand the fogs are appalling.”
She smiled at him. “My father is becoming very interested in politics, so yes, we stay while Parliament is in session.”
“Does he plan to stand for a seat?”
“No, he is far too engaged in his business for that. But there is legislation that affects it, so we came in early so he could take meetings.”
“I see.” They walked out of the drawing room and into a smaller salon, then an anteroom, and then into a sitting room.
“Here is the cake,” she said, pointing to the wall farthest from the fire. “I thought the ladies could withdraw here.”
“Forgive my curiosity, but why is it important to have a cake in the ladies’ withdrawing room?” He moved to the cake, which had been decorated in frosting dyed a shade of apricot. Over that were innumerable layers of white frosting lace. The confection reminded him somewhat of Miss Courtnay’s dress.
“It’s something pretty to look at. A conversation piece.”
“It is certainly that.” He placed his hands behind his back and strolled around the cake, noting a couple of small imperfections in the lacework on the backside. Someone had been astute enough to hide them.
“I especially ordered the cake topper,” she said, pointing to the top of the third tier.
“Who is it?” A lumpy gum-paste creature sat on a chair.
“Queen Victoria, my namesake,” she dimpled.
“Ah, very clever.” They needed to change purveyors of gum-paste work.
“Oh!” came a voice from the doorway.
Judah glanced over his shoulder and saw Magdalene Cross enter the room. Her dress was so plain that even he thought it might be more suitable as a
dinner dress than an evening gown, but at least the green fabric had no obvious repairs. The animation of her sharp-featured face lent her grace and beauty, however.
“I am very sorry to interrupt. I was told a cake was here.” Her glance at Judah was nervous.
“Miss Courtnay, have you been introduced to Miss Cross?” Judah asked.
She pasted on a hostess smile. “Yes, of course, Miss Cross. Do you have a particular fascination with cakes? Or are you simply hungry?” Her gaze raked Miss Cross’s slim form.
“I understood it was a particularly pretty cake,” Miss Cross stammered.
“Would you like me to show Miss Cross the particular details?” Judah asked. “I know I am keeping you from your guests.”
She inclined her head graciously. “I will see you for our waltz.”
He bowed. “I cannot wait.”
Miss Cross had her hands clasped tightly together at her waist as her gaze followed Miss Courtnay out of the room. She was a little wild-eyed when she turned back to Judah. “I thought you would give me away.”
“Of course not. I think more quickly than that.”
Her clasped hands moved to her lips. “I did want to see how it turned out. What do you think?”
He could see how anxious she was and could not criticize. “It’s very well done, from the front at least. Did you work on it?”
“I assisted. Just the odd details. Nothing I can call my own.”
“But you are decorating more than baking, now?”
“Assisting.”
He frowned. “I shall speak to Betsy again. What if she leaves Redcake’s? Where would we be then if you are not trained?”
“Do you think she is leaving?”
He noticed that the thought relaxed her. “I have no reason to think so, but Ewan Hales warned me that young girls of marriageable age often do, so we always need to be hiring.”
She twirled around the cake, her bustle twitching as she walked. He felt his tight evening pants press against him, as an urgent wave of lust took control of his groin.
When they walked to Redcake’s in the morning, he made certain to walk next to her, so that he couldn’t catch sight of her movements. Otherwise he would spend all morning in an uncomfortable state of turgidity. One that had no release. It was maddening, the hold this girl’s hips had on him.
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