At least, she had until this interlude. Her mind positively spun at the possibilities.
Seeming to take pity on her, he glanced around. “Do you see your maid? The sooner I escort you home, the better.”
More than willing to speak of something else—anything else—she glanced ahead, searching for Ruth. At last she spotted her along the wall. Betty was speaking, or rather, flirting, with a man while Ruth listened, looking slightly uncomfortable.
Had she realized the truth about Betty? Dalia hoped so. Perhaps she would welcome returning home with Dalia.
“She’s just ahead,” Dalia told him. “I’ll have a quick word with her.” She released Rutland’s elbow only to have him grasp her arm.
“We’ll remain together until you are safely home.” His tone didn’t allow for argument.
When his gaze dropped to her lips, she realized she was scowling again and quickly stopped. “Very well.”
Ruth’s back was to her, so Dalia tapped her on the shoulder.
Ruth’s eyes widened as she gave a horrified gasp at the sight of Dalia. “Miss. Whatever are you doing here?”
“Following you, of course.” Betty frowned at Dalia but continued to speak to the man. Dalia eased closer to Ruth with the hope that Betty wouldn’t hear and try to interfere. “I would like you to come home with me.”
“But it’s my half day. Is something amiss that you have need of me?”
“No, but I don’t think this is a good place for you.” Dalia couldn’t help but glance at Rutland to see his reaction to the conversation. He had to realize she’d left out part of the truth and that Ruth hadn’t accompanied her here after all.
Not surprisingly, he frowned at her too. Obviously, no one was pleased with her at the moment.
“I told you that I wanted to see what it was like. I’ve never been here before.” Ruth shook her head. “What I do on my time off is my business.”
“I know, but I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m not alone as you know. I’m with Betty.” Ruth glanced at the viscount.
Dalia could see the question in the maid’s brown eyes. “I happened to run into someone I know,” she explained.
Ruth’s eyes widened once again. “Who were you with before that? Please tell me you weren’t here alone?”
Dalia shifted as guilt rattled through her. Servants tended to prefer it when their employers acted as they should. Following Ruth here had obviously made her uncomfortable.
“Yes,” Rutland added, leaning forward. “Please tell us you weren’t here alone.”
The look he gave her had her cheeks heating. Dalia ignored him. “I wasn’t alone. I knew you and your cousin were here.”
“Miss!” Ruth’s horror had Dalia even more embarrassed. “Whatever would your mother say? If you’re caught, she might very well dismiss me if you mentioned that you followed me here.”
Dalia hadn’t thought of such an outcome. Remorse filled her as she could see her mother doing just that. “I promise not to tell her this involves you if she happens to discover my whereabouts. Besides, Jack is with me.”
“Jack?” The disapproval in Ruth’s tone only increased as she shook her head at the sight of the footman several steps away. “He’s of little help, miss. You should return home.”
“Come with us.” Dalia couldn’t help but plead again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Betty wink at the man with whom she was speaking, making Dalia even more certain Ruth didn’t belong here. “Betty seems to have made a friend. No doubt she’ll be...busy with him.”
Ruth lifted her chin, a stubborn set to her mouth. “No thank you, miss. I was enjoying this outing, and it’s not yet over.”
She’d been enjoying it until Dalia interrupted her. She knew the maid well enough to know little chance remained of changing her mind now. Disappointment and worry filled her. She shifted her reticule to her other hand as she took a step back. “Very well. I will hope to see you this evening then.”
Dalia couldn’t help but glare at Betty as Ruth turned back to their conversation. The knowing smile Betty gave her had Dalia taking a step forward, only to be pulled away by Rutland.
“I think Ruth has made her wishes clear.” His sensible tone only annoyed Dalia.
Yet she allowed him to guide her along, no longer seeing the people as Betty’s expression filled her mind.
“Might I ask why you’re so intent on Ruth returning home?” he asked.
The hurt she’d managed to ignore thus far filled her. Was working for Dalia and her family so terrible that prostitution was a preference? “I fear Ruth is considering a change in occupation.”
Spencer breathed a sigh of relief when he had Dalia safely ensconced in a hansom cab. The lady’s upset with her maid allowed him to easily get her out of the Argyll Rooms without protesting. They’d left Jack, her footman, waiting outside the establishment in case the maid had need of him. Dalia had given him orders to remain out of sight unless Ruth required assistance.
Dalia was obviously disturbed by the situation, and Spencer was at a loss as to how to reassure her, especially when he knew what the life of a prostitute was like after taking this mission.
“You believe Ruth’s cousin has already become a...fallen woman?” Despite the awkwardness of the topic, if he wanted to assist in any way, he needed to better understand what had occurred.
“I think so, though Ruth denies it. Betty told her that establishment is a good place to meet men who appreciate women.”
Spencer held his silence, uncertain what more he should say.
“Betty said the men she meets there buy her presents and are so kind.” Dalia stared blankly out the window at the busy street. “She refuses to acknowledge what the men want in exchange.”
“When Ruth returns to your home, perhaps you can provide further details.” Spencer frowned, wondering how much more Dalia knew than her maid. And how. Most young ladies her age had limited knowledge of such things. The seedier side of London was easy to ignore for those who chose to.
“I already told my sister Ruth was accompanying me,” Dalia continued. “Whatever will she say when I return home without her?” She raised her gloved hand from her lap only to let it fall back. “It didn’t occur to me that if we were caught, Ruth could be dismissed. After all, it isn’t her fault I followed her.”
Spencer clenched his jaw. Dalia’s rash actions and refusal to listen to reason had placed her in difficult situations since their childhood. However, that was not the issue at hand. “I daresay that although Ruth’s choice of an outing is regrettable, it doesn’t mean you should’ve followed her.”
She stiffened beside him. He nearly groaned as he realized his mistake. She obviously wasn’t the only person unable to restrain herself. He should’ve kept his opinion to himself.
“I am looking out for her welfare. I could hardly allow her to venture there on her own.”
Though he continued to clench his jaw, it didn’t stop the words from coming out. “Her going there with her cousin wasn’t good enough for you, so you determined to go as well.”
“Of course.”
“You took the very risk you didn’t want her taking.” At her glare, he felt compelled to add, “If something had happened to you, no one would ever know what calamity occurred.” Could she not see the flaw in her plan?
“Oh, please. Nothing happened. There was very little risk in my plan. Besides, Jack accompanied me.” She lifted a shoulder casually.
Spencer drew a deep breath, but the urge to shake some sense into her remained. “Your footman seems rather inexperienced. Danger is very real at the Argyll Rooms. Not only is it a place where certain men might find women willing to do certain things, it is also a place where men involved in that business find new women to lure into it.”
Dalia’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand.”
“Women don’t always fall into prostitution by choice.” When she continued to stare at him with a blank look, he
continued, “If the wrong person saw you there, you could be ruined. If you lost the support of your family because of that, you might have nowhere to go. If you were hungry and had no means to purchase food, you might be forced to become a prostitute. And there are men just waiting to encourage you into the business. Some act with force.”
“But my family would never abandon me.”
“I’m not referring to you specifically.” Spencer didn’t believe her family would disown her but had heard of such things happening far too often with young women. While he’d be willing to wager she drove her father and mother mad with her actions, he didn’t think she would fall into such a situation. “Someone similar to you, perhaps.”
“Do you know anyone who had that happen to them?”
“Not directly, but I’ve heard of it second-hand.”
“I cannot imagine. Something should be done for women like that.”
“A few people are reaching out to help, but it can be difficult to find those in need or those who truly want help rather than the ones determined to take advantage of an outstretched hand.”
She studied him with a tilt to her head that suggested she was seeing him for the first time. “I had no idea you were interested in such things. Have you read The Seven Curses of London?”
“No.”
“I shall send it to you. My sister, Lettie, and her husband keep extra copies on hand to help spread the word of some of the terrible problems plaguing London.”
“How kind of you.” This had to be the oddest conversation he’d ever had with a young lady, though it came as no surprise that it was with Dalia. The woman was a puzzle. He would be curious to read the book as it might explain some of her knowledge. “Your sister is married to Captain Hawke, isn’t she?”
“Yes, do you know him?”
“I’ve met him on occasion.” Spencer didn’t share that the last time had involved the halting of an anarchist’s plot to blow up the Royal Albert Hall during a concert. That sort of information couldn’t be shared. “His military record is impressive.”
She smiled brightly, obviously proud of him. “True, and even though he’s no longer in the Navy, he continues efforts to make England a better and safer place. You should ask him about his work with neglected children.”
Before Spencer could inquire further, Dalia said, “If you would ask the driver to stop before you arrive at my home so that I might walk the rest of the way, I’d appreciate it.”
He had half a mind not to agree. Part of him wanted to arrive on the Fairchild’s doorstep and advise them in detail of just where he’d found their daughter. Perhaps that would bring a halt to her behavior. Yet that might bring more trouble to both of them than he welcomed. He’d have to share that he’d been at the Argyll Rooms as well, which would not be to his advantage.
But that didn’t mean he was willing to do as she asked with no consequences for the risk she’d taken with this outing. “On one condition.”
She looked at him in surprise, those blue eyes holding his.
“That you never venture there again, or any other place like it.” He felt the need to add a stipulation to prevent her from easily breaking her word.
“I don’t think I can make such a promise when—”
He raised his brow, doing his best to make it clear that he would only accept one answer.
She glanced away, and he could practically see her mulling over her answer in such a way that she could agree without truly agreeing.
He closed his eyes briefly at his tangled thoughts. He was normally a clear, logical thinker. Funny how a bit of time spent in her company had his thoughts as convoluted as hers.
“I would be certain to—”
He shook his head, not bothering to argue. He only wanted her agreement. Her safety was all that mattered, even if he wasn’t willing to analyze why. “We’re nearing your home.”
“Oh, very well.”
He called up to the driver to advise him to pull over. He alighted then assisted Dalia. “I’ll walk with you part of the way.”
“No need. One of my younger sisters might be glancing out the window.”
“Very well. Don’t forget your promise.” He added a gentle squeeze of her hand before he released her.
She gave a heavy sigh as though she hoped he’d already put it from his mind. “Very well. Thank you for...everything.”
Spencer didn’t think he’d ever heard a more insincere expression of gratitude. He bit back a smile. “You are very welcome.”
As he watched her walk away, he had the sinking sensation that the situation wasn’t over. Her heart was in the right place, but that didn’t mean she didn’t court trouble. Heaven only knew what she might do next.
Chapter Three
“As long as you [the fallen woman] create no public scandal, but throw a decent veil over your proceedings, we shall not interfere with you, but shall regard you as an inevitable evil.”
~The Seven Curses of London
Dalia tugged off her gloves as she stood in the foyer of her home, listening for voices that might tell her where everyone was. “Is mother home, James?” she asked the footman.
“I believe she’s upstairs resting, miss.”
She’d prefer avoiding her mother until she had time to calm from her unsettling afternoon. Hiding her feelings was never easy, but of late, she’d had much practice.
Her dissatisfaction with life felt petty after what she’d seen in the East End. The question was how could she get Ruth to see the trouble Betty and her crazed ideas would cause?
She left her reticule and gloves on the foyer table and peeked into the drawing room. Her sister, Violet, just one year younger than her, sat before the window with her needlework.
Dalia eased back, hoping to postpone a conversation with her as well. She was far too inquisitive.
“Dalia, is that you?” Violet asked.
With a sigh, Dalia moved into the doorway and pasted on a smile. “Yes. I’m going to run up to my room.”
“Where’s Ruth? I was hoping to have her assistance.”
“It’s her half-day.”
Violet frowned. “Weren’t you out with her just now?”
Dalia stiffened, wishing Violet hadn’t remembered that. “I was, yes.”
“Didn’t she return with you?”
“No, I-er-I left her with her cousin on our way home.”
“Where?”
Trust Violet to ask too many questions. Dalia cast her thoughts for an answer. “Just off Bond Street.”
“Truly?” Violet paused in her embroidery to look at Dalia. “What did she intend to do there?”
Frustrated, Dalia moved into the room. “How should I know? What she does on her time off is hardly any of my business.”
“But—”
“What are you working on? I like the colors you’ve selected.” She bent to closer examine the cloth. Anything to encourage Violet to change the subject. Her sister was relentless in her pursuit of answers.
“Why, thank you. It’s a handkerchief for Mother for her birthday.”
“That’s months away. You’re working on it already?”
Violet nodded. “I don’t like to wait until the last minute.”
“I wish I had your talent for needlework.” Dalia couldn’t help the tug of envy. She wished she had a talent of some sort. Violet had her needlework. Lettie had her work with neglected children. Rose’s gift involved planning social events, a handy trait considering she was now a duchess.
Even Holly had a knack for fashion, especially when it came to hats.
Dalia couldn’t name one thing at which she excelled. No doubt that was one of the reasons she was interchangeable with her sisters—she lacked any quality that made her special.
She ran a finger along the clever embroidered flower petals her sister had created. “Lovely.”
Violet gave a delicate sniff as Dalia leaned closer. “Where did you say you’d been? You have the strangest odor about yo
u.”
Dalia jerked back, guilt pouring through her. “Really?” She ran a hand along the front of her skirts, realizing too late she couldn’t rid herself of any smell that way.
Violet studied her closer, and Dalia could see the additional questions forming in her eyes.
“I’ll go change before Mother notes it.” Dalia smiled. “That truly is a pretty piece.”
Before her sister could respond, she left the drawing room and hurried up the stairs, hoping she didn’t encounter anyone else along the way.
But of course, her mother stood at the top of the stairs. “There you are, dear. Where have you been?”
“I was shopping.”
“Oh? What did you purchase?”
“Nothing. The shop didn’t have what I was looking for.”
“What were you in need of?”
Dalia clenched her jaw. Since when had everyone in her family become so inquisitive of her movements? “Nothing special. What are your plans for the afternoon?”
Within a few short minutes, Dalia reached the solitude of her room. That was until Holly, the youngest sister, arrived. Without bothering to knock, she opened the door, keeping her hand on the knob.
“Violet says you’ve been up to something.”
“Whatever are you speaking of?” Dalia shook her head as she opened the door of her wardrobe.
“She also says you smell funny. Where were you?”
“I must’ve encountered someone peculiar smelling on the street.”
Holly tilted her head to the side, considering her. “I don’t believe you. In fact, you’ve been acting oddly of late.”
“Your imagination has gotten away from you. Surely you have something better to do with your time than watch me select a different gown.” She drew a long, deep breath to keep herself from demanding her sister leave. Holly’s stubborn streak was well known. She’d leave quicker if Dalia didn’t order her to do so.
Falling for the Viscount_Book VI of The Seven Curses of London Series Page 3