Maiden Lane

by Lynne Connolly

Richard remained unimpressed. “No, sir, you won’t. I’m quite capable of handling this unfortunate business for myself. You tried to interfere once before, and it resulted in this mess.”

  “You will do as you are told otherwise I will cut off your allowance.” A poor threat, since we didn’t depend on any allowance from his father.

  Richard shrugged. “You must do as you see fit, sir. However, I’d advise against it. Society will pounce on any breach between us, and that will benefit John.”

  “What do you propose to do?”

  “Assess, collect information and then make a decision. I will let you know what I plan. Meantime, I’d advise you to keep your wife under control. My mother has plans to use John to lever me into doing what she wants. She sees the question mark placed against my marriage as a chance for her to prise me away from Rose. You know that won’t work, and I assume you don’t wish to see Helen made illegitimate.”

  “No indeed.” Lord Southwood shuddered. “I’ll make it clear that she must stop her activities and deny the gossip if she hears it.” I doubted she’d do that. She’d let people come to their own conclusions, helped along with a seemingly innocent remark or two. No doubt society already knew that John and Susan’s mother once worked for our family.

  Richard got to his feet. “To be frank, I’m tired of discussing and planning. I have my own resources, but be aware that I will not acknowledge him publicly as my son, and I will not have Rose compromised in any way whatsoever.” He reached into his pocket and dragged out a document. “I had a copy made of my second marriage document. Be so good as to add it to the family vault. I have the original.” He got to his feet and tossed the document on the large mahogany desk to join the neat piles of papers awaiting his lordship’s attention. Then Richard waited for me to follow suit and stand up, ready to leave. I had little choice.

  We travelled home by a circuitous route so that we could go through Covent Garden. I visited the Opera House, of course, but as a respectable woman I was expected to remain ignorant of the majority of the houses here. Some coffeehouses, a few shops, and many, many whorehouses, bagnios and gaming houses. Richard pointed one out to me, a large red brick house on the corner of Covent Garden and King Street. “Mother Brown’s. Supposedly the best whorehouse in London, but that remains to be seen. It has straight gaming tables, though, and I may have to visit it soon.”

  “Why? Are you tired of me?” I could ask this in perfect confidence, so I enjoyed his slight flush and the startled expression in his wide blue eyes when he turned them to me.

  “Hardly, my sweet. That will take a lifetime. No, I want to investigate a small matter that has come to light. Don’t worry, I’ll inform you of every move. But if anyone were to say to you that they saw me in that house, you’d know it was the gaming room they referred to.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me.”

  He lifted my hand and brushed his lips on the back of my glove. “I know. I can’t think what I did to deserve such good fortune. I have a wife who trusts me implicitly.”

  “Because you trust me. If you went astray, I’d know. Just by the way you behaved.”

  He gave a short laugh. “Yes, no doubt you would. I have no intention of giving you cause. It is our strength. And why should I want milk when I have cream at home?”

  A flush warmed my face, but I knew he enjoyed my blushes.

  We swung around the corner of the piazza into a smaller warren of streets. Maiden Lane ran parallel to the Garden’s south side and contained a huge variety of buildings. Gentlemen’s clubs, the inevitable whorehouses, lodging houses and shops containing a variety of items jostled for room, the houses appearing attenuated with the press for space. We had to alight at the end, because it was too narrow a street for a carriage to turn around and had only a pedestrian footpath at the other end.

  The cobbled stones were worn away by time and the houses reached over us, appearing to lean in at the top. A fascinating mixture of respectable houses, interspersed with shops, inns and the occasional disreputable, rundown building caught my fascinated gaze.

  Towards the end of the street, Richard indicated an anonymous-looking house. “That is the place Julia and Steven took for their club. The sign of the triangle, the Cytherean Club.”

  I marked the house closely, and as we watched, someone approached and used the knocker to tap out a series of signals. The door opened almost immediately.

  We lingered, studying the window of a shop a little farther up the street, which had a good display of toys, snuffboxes, fans and the like.

  After a little while we saw Steven Drury. Richard stepped forward. “May we offer you a ride somewhere?”

  Steven glanced back at the house. Nobody appeared to be watching. “You are too kind, sir,” he replied, and we went back up the street to where our carriage waited, the two bay horses stamping impatiently.

  The footman swung the door open and Richard gestured elegantly. “Get in.”

  Steven leaped up without troubling to pull down the foldaway steps. I waited until the footman had performed the office before I followed him. Steven sat opposite us. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” he drawled.

  I studied him closely. His eyes seemed wide, almost startled, and his muscles tensed. He was on alert. As he should be in Richard’s vicinity. But we had entered into an uneasy truce since our shared experience last autumn, when Steven had the choice of using me or helping me. He’d elected to help us both escape our captivity. His choice had gone a long way to reconcile Richard to his previous treatment of me. But Julia’s continued hostilities made any closer connection impossible, even had we wished for such a thing.

  “Why did John Kneller visit you yesterday?” Richard asked.

  Steven closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the squabs, inhaling deeply. Then he let his breath out in a great gush and smiled grimly. “I might have known you’d get to hear. Are you having us watched, or him?”

  “Or did I hear of it in the normal way of things?” Richard prompted gently. “I heard of it in the Cocoa-Tree last night. How I heard it is my affair. You surely didn’t assume his frequent visits to your club would go unnoticed.”

  The carriage jolted back into the piazza of Covent Garden and then up Drury Lane. “If you could arrange for your minion to stop coming to the club, I’d be grateful,” Steven said. “He is proving most insistent.”

  “On what?”

  Steven glanced at me. A flush stained his cheekbones. “Do I have to be specific?”

  “Yes,” I said before Richard could interrupt. I tired of men treating women as delicate creatures to the point of stupidity, and even Richard succumbed to that urge from time to time. I preferred to know precisely what was going on, as the two men currently occupying the carriage had good cause to know.

  Steven rubbed his hand over his eyes. “You know that Julia prefers her affairs in the multiple.”

  “More than one man at a time, yes,” I said. That was no surprise. “And has the reprobate proven willing?”

  “Every meeting, every time.” Steven opened his mouth, then closed it with a snap. I felt sure he wanted to tell us something else and thought better of it. “He’s taking over. This club was supposed to be a harmless diversion.”

  Richard snorted. “It was never that. I can’t believe you thought it. Julia prefers her men obedient. And her ambition overtops her personal desires.”

  “As I’m only too aware.”

  I raised a brow. “Has the worm turned? Are you tiring of your beautiful spouse?”

  Steven gave me a straight stare. “That is my affair. But I would prefer her not to involve herself in too many business matters. Now her father is so frail she has taken control of the business, and not all her decisions are wise ones.”

  Richard leaned back and stretched his arm along the seat behind my head. The carriage swung back into Covent Garden. It was never quiet, but at this time of day, just before dinner, the place entered a kind of siesta. The night
people were waking, the market traders had gone long since, and the shopkeepers were taking their dinners. So only a few people strolled around the piazza, and none of them took much notice of us despite the crest on the door of the carriage.

  “I know,” Richard said. “Some of her father’s business concerns overlap with mine, and my father’s. That was why she was proposed as a match for me. Julia was always headstrong and she rarely listens to advice. You should take control. She’d like that.”

  Steven frowned at him before glancing out of the window. We’d reached the corner leading to the side street that led to Maiden Lane. “I’ll get out here.”

  Richard reached past him and rapped on the wall. “Try to keep your wife in check and we’ll see what we can do about your visitor. That young man is becoming altogether too much of a nuisance.”

  But he wouldn’t do it for Steven, and Steven knew that. After he’d alighted and we were on our way home, we looked at each other and at the same time declared, “He’s worried.” He would hardly have confided that much in us otherwise.

  Richard sighed. “I fear I might have to visit this house of ill repute. Julia will be overjoyed. But I think I’ll send someone else first.”

  “Freddy?”

  “As you say, my love, as you say.”

  I LIKED FREDDY THWAITE, and I fear if it were not for Richard, I would have taken him in a heartbeat. Most of London liked Freddy, but most of London was unaware of the razor-sharp mind that lurked beneath the easygoing exterior. Freddy wore his mask as easily as Richard wore his, but where Richard left his fashionable, sophisticated exterior for everyone to see, like an elaborate Venetian mask, Freddy wore his with subtlety and guile, as if he had a replica of his face fashioned to wear when he wanted to conceal his true feelings—which was most of the time.

  For some time now, I’d suspected that more lay under that exterior than he let anyone see, but I could not pierce through to the heart of the man, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to.

  But because the fashionable world considered Freddy a dissolute, none-too-bright fribble, he was the best person to amble into the club on Maiden Lane and discover what he could. Which was quite a lot.

  He met us in the Park early one morning before most of the fashionable world had regained consciousness after the excesses of the night before. He looked remarkably fresh, which he explained to us came from not going to bed at all. We rode in one of Richard’s light, high-perch phaetons. I had accustomed myself to his driving, sure and accurate, although sometimes I knew I’d feel better on a horse. Unfortunately, during this period of my pregnancy, I wasn’t allowed to ride. I missed it.

  “I’ll sleep when I’ve spoken to you.” Freddy’s mouth took on a grim line. “Blessedly alone.”

  “You didn’t enjoy yourself, Freddy? The Cytherean Club is reputed as one of the places to be this season.” Richard gave him a gentle smile.

  “Not for me.” Freddy shrugged and pulled his horse back to a walk, so he could converse with us. “I swear, Richard, I want nothing more than a hot bath, and then perhaps a good wash, before I sleep off the experience. Most distasteful. Mother Brown’s is good, wholesome fun compared to that.”

  “Mother Brown’s is good, wholesome fun compared with many houses in the vicinity,” I said, interpreting Freddy’s uneasy glances as his gentlemanly impulses kicked into action. “The House of Correction on the side opposite the Opera House is one.”

  Freddy shot me another glance, this one brimful of laughter. “Rose, when I met you, you struck me as sweet and angelic. I fully concurred with Richard’s impulse to protect you. Then you learned how to cheat at cards, and then you showed Richard what a good shot you are, and I had to change my mind. What depths of depravity have you sunk to now?”

  I laughed. He could always make me laugh. “I was a country girl. Believe me, events in the country can overset the ones in the city. They merely have more picturesque surroundings, that’s all.”

  He raised a dark brow. “I believe you, but only because you tell me it’s true.” He had to rein his horse back again. Freddy had taken to a beast that could compare to Gervase’s black monster. Why men had to prove their prowess by riding nearly unmanageable creatures defeated my understanding. This one wanted to throw him off and gallop free over the carefully shorn sward of Hyde Park. And maybe plunge into the streets beyond and create a little havoc. Still, it was a handsome horse, a gelding, about seventeen hands, a chestnut, and normally I’d have loved an opportunity to try his mettle. So maybe I had a touch of madness about me too.

  “So,” Richard said. “The Cytherean Club. Before that beast wins and we don’t see you again for a week.”

  Freddy grinned. “It’s a bad-tempered creature. I’ll probably sell him on, since all he has is temper and not much style or pace. I bought him from Cowan. My error, I think. Ah yes, the club. As you might have noticed, I’m avoiding the subject. It made my skin crawl. Julia presided over the meeting, stark naked save for a few ribbons and straps designed to enhance her charms. She does have charms, but she also has a large patch by the side of her mouth.” People often used patches to disguise spots and sores, and they were often caused by the kind of disease that could be caught from sexual excess.

  Richard sighed. “You can’t undertake that kind of life without some consequences.”

  “She still thinks so. I refused her offers, said I had come to enjoy the view. Made out I enjoyed watching. Had to perform for them, but it wasn’t too bad.” He glanced at me, and yes, I took his meaning. No wonder he felt dirty. “Interesting facts—her husband didn’t participate save with one woman, and I know her. I’d rather not mention her name.”

  “Lady Armstrong,” Richard said flatly. “I had a dispatch from Thompson’s yesterday that indicated Steven Drury had found consolation outside his marriage.”

  Freddy shrugged. “Really, Strang, if you know all the answers, why send me?”

  “Because I don’t. Cut to the chase, Freddy. What’s going on?”

  “Yes. Very well.” He grimaced and we paused to negotiate a rough stretch of track. It looked like a herd of cows had trampled past, which might have been the case, since half a dozen animals stood near one of the gates, offering milk fresh from the cow to the thirsty visitor. I gripped the rail by my side, trying to look unconcerned, but I wondered if it were more dangerous to fall from a horse or tumble to the ground in this contraption. We negotiated the hazard successfully, however, and I breathed again. Richard glanced at me, amusement in his eyes, but when he turned back to Freddy, the amusement died.

  “Drury, I think, is tiring of the game. But it’s obvious that Julia isn’t. She’s worse. She must have had relations with five of the men present, all in the presence of the others. She likes an audience. And yes, it is as you think. Although they’re masked, they don’t conceal themselves very well. I can name you six for sure.” And Freddy proceeded to do so, all of them important members of Parliament.

  Richard flung his head back and stared at the trees at the edge of the park as if he could see visions. He was thinking. I watched the path ahead. “She doesn’t care about the sexual intercourse. She was ever cold, take it from me, only ever thinking of what the encounter could get her. Not that I ever compromised her too much. She never appealed to me. It was why I chose her. It’s possible she’s enjoying getting the attention, being queen of her small domain, but somehow I think not. She’ll use the knowledge to try to extort something out of them. Probably influence. She’s spending money like water, I know that much, and she’s had several missives from her father in the last week or two, probably exhorting her to economise a little. It’s a gamble. One she could win.”

  “What do you think she wants?” I asked him, but I had my own ideas. I wanted to see if they meshed with mine.

  “Power. A rung on the ladder, anyway,” Richard answered calmly but immediately. He’d thought about this. “When she agreed to marry me, I knew she wanted power and position, but at t
he time I didn’t care.” He glanced at me, his look conveying warmth. “I did shortly after, though. She gave me up for a man she thought she could control, but I think he might be tiring of the game. He doesn’t have the stamina for the long haul.”

  “Steven only ever wanted enough money for a comfortable life,” I said. Steven had courted me for a time. “An agreeable wife and enough money and social position for a few of life’s luxuries. Essentially selfish, but before he met Julia, I’d have considered him harmless.”

  “I remember one time when he was not,” Richard said in a tight voice.

  “He’d just realised he’d lost me and he panicked.” Steven’s attack on me had all the hallmarks of instant, violent reaction to losing a prized possession. “As long as things go his way, he’s happy enough.” Handsome, reasonably selfish but indolent, Steven shouldn’t have married Julia.

  “Julia wants more,” Richard said. “First, she’ll try to get a title for Steven. One for her father wouldn’t help, since she can’t inherit it. There needs to be a reason, but if Steven takes part in a charitable work, a notable military action or distinguishes himself in some way, it could be done.”

  “Steven is related to minor nobility,” I reminded him. “I’m sure they’d arrange something for him if Julia asked in the right way.”

  “Or threatened certain people with exposure,” Freddy said, grimmer than anyone in society had seen him. “But isn’t it an expensive way of achieving that? What’s wrong with simple bribery? Behave, damn you!” That last to the horse, which shifted its gait, showing signs of wanting to gallop. He dragged the reins back in a ruthless hold, demonstrating effortless power and control without the hardness that could ruin a horse’s mouth.

  Richard clicked his tongue. “She’d have no hold over them. She’ll want more than a title. She’s building the foundation of an empire.”

  Freddy snorted. “She wants to achieve in a generation what our families achieved in three or more.”

  “Except that she doesn’t understand the responsibilities that go with the position. She will take but she won’t give.” Richard would have surprised certain sectors of society if they’d heard that sentiment. But Richard didn’t appreciate an overabundance of thanks, or expect it, either. He did what he considered right from a strong sense of justice.