Harley Street

by Lynne Connolly

  This was my first house, the first house where I was indubitably the mistress and had the running of it. In Venice we’d had to employ servants from Thompson’s special box, as much bodyguards as they were servants. Richard had seen to that. But here most of the servants, although procured through Thompson’s were just servants.

  However, my maid and a footman were specially recruited. We weren’t past all danger. Carier, as a part owner of the agency, and Bennett, Richard’s groom, remained constants, quietly in the background. Bennett had been with Richard since his childhood; he had always been there and would be until he retired.

  I must have fallen asleep because when he returned, Richard didn’t disturb me but went to work with Brangwyn.

  The clanging of the doorbell woke me and I barely had time to put one hand to my head to tuck away the curls that had come loose when Jervis knocked.

  “There’s a lady to see you, my lady. A Miss Eustacia Terry. She arrived about ten minutes ago and said she would wait, so I showed her to the drawing room.” Since he was new, I had given him a list of people we were never at home to but I hadn’t put Eustacia on it. A solitary visit was surprising but after tidying myself a little, I went up to the drawing room and greeted her. She looked fetching in pale green. The cold light of the overcast day fell on the banded table under the window, the new chairs set by the fire.

  We kissed in greeting, just like old friends. “Does Lord Strang know you’re here?” I went to pour some tea, brought up by a maid just before I arrived.

  Eustacia took a dish of tea with a smile of thanks. “No, I asked that he not be disturbed.”

  I sat and settled my skirts. She looked superior, her eyes sparkling, her chin uptilted and a slight smile quirking her lips. I had seen that look before, when she scored a point over me at some social gathering in Exeter and persuaded her special friends to laugh at me again. “Was there anything in particular you wished to see me about, or is this a social call?”

  Eustacia looked down, then up, meeting my gaze. “It’s about your husband.” She paused, then said in a rush, “How much do you trust him?”

  “Totally.”

  “I thought I ought to come and see you, although Julia said I should not.”

  “Julia Drury?” Why should that lady object to Eustacia visiting me? And since when were they on first name terms?

  “Yes. She has been kind to me lately.” She looked down at her hands, clasped tightly together in her lap, over her fan. “She says I shouldn’t bother you with such trivialities as this.”

  “So what does Julia Drury consider to be a triviality?” I was curious what she was going to say, though not alarmed.

  She stared at me for a long moment but I met her gaze and waited.

  “Richard asked me to become his mistress,” she blurted. Her fair skin flushed scarlet. “I consented.”

  I took a deep breath, which she must have seen. I let her think what she liked. “And have you?” I kept my voice steady.

  “Yes.” She stared at me. Her pale eyes seemed to hold no guile but I knew better than that. “When I told Julia, she said it wasn’t important to you anymore, that the passion I’d seen in you before had dissipated into a more proper regard. But we were friends long before you came into all this. I thought it only right to tell you.”

  ‘Friends’ wasn’t my description of our relationship, now or at any other time. “Crowing over your triumph?” I put my cup down. “Who else have you told? I take it you haven’t told your mother?”

  Eustacia shook her head with vigour. “No, I couldn’t tell her.” She didn’t seem in the least disturbed and I knew she was watching me closely for any signs of distress. “I haven’t told anyone, apart from Julia Drury. She told me not to tell.” I’ll wager she did. She’d want to keep that snippet for a time when she could exert maximum pressure.

  “So it will be all around town by the end of the week.” I hadn’t thought her particularly stupid before, but I did now. “You fool, Eustacia. You’ve played right into Julia’s hands.” My voice did show something then—anger, although she might have mistaken the tremor for distress. Her eyes widened and her thin mouth crooked up at one corner.

  “You’re wrong, they truly care about you.” She looked sincere; perhaps they really had taken her in.

  “Oh, I know that.”

  “Then why won’t you accept them as your friends?”

  “Let’s give it time, shall we?” I decided to draw her out a little more. “Why do you think they want to be friends?”

  Exasperatedly she waved one hand in emphasis. “Julia was truly distressed to hear about Richard’s betrayal of you and she begged me to keep it to myself.” She seemed sincere. Perhaps Julia was deceiving her too well.

  “When did you become his mistress?” I sat still, my tea totally abandoned on the little table by my side.

  “Almost as soon as we arrived in London.” The note of triumph was there, that tone I’d heard so often in Exeter in the past.

  “And how does he behave to you?” Short of testing her knowledge of bedroom secrets, this was the nearest I could get.

  She sighed and clasped her hands together, staring into space instead of at me. “He’s the perfect gentleman. So courteous, so kind. He never forgets the considerations due to a lady and he is never so overcome by his passion he forgets the proprieties.” So she’d been dreaming of him, had she?

  I let a tremor into my voice. “Did he say why he wanted you?”

  Her expression turned grave. “He says he needs more than you can give him. He says he loves me and he cannot help himself.”

  I’d heard enough. I picked up the little bell at my side and when Jervis answered its summons, I asked him to pass on my apologies to my husband and ask him to step in.

  Eustacia obviously didn’t expect this. She stood and in a whirl of amber silk made for the door. “Sit down, Eustacia. If he has something to answer for, he’ll answer for it now.” She stopped, glanced at me, then took her seat again in silence. I wondered how she would cope with this, as she had evidently not given this turn of events any thought at all.

  When Richard entered, immaculate in cool blue, he looked straight at me, a brow arched in query, then made his bow to Eustacia. He stood between us where we sat on the sofas set either side of the fireplace.

  I began without preamble. “It seems Eustacia Terry here has become your mistress, has been so since we reached London.”

  He glanced at me, startled but turned his gaze to Eustacia. “Have you told anyone else?” He didn’t bother to deny it. He didn’t need to.

  She met his gaze for the first time. “No, only Julia Drury.”

  He made a sound of exasperation. “Ach! So it will be all over town by next week.”

  “Just what I thought.” I cast him a sly glance. “Apparently, you don’t ever get so passionate that you forget the proprieties.”

  He grinned. “Have you ever known me to forget the—er—proprieties?” He walked across to stand behind my sofa and held his hand out.

  “I don’t know what they are.”

  “What are the proprieties of the bedchamber?” I heard his note of mischief and guessed what was coming. I wasn’t wrong. “Before you strip your lover naked, do you ask permission? When you fondle her breasts, do you ensure she is comfortably seated? How about two women? How do you manage to observe the correct procedure? Eldest first, perhaps?”

  “Richard, you will embarrass the poor girl.” I reached my hand up. He smiled at me fondly. “That was the idea, my love. I hope you know how mild that was.” I thought of what we did in the bedchamber—and out of it—and bit my lip, forced to agree.

  He released my hand and lifted his head to address Eustacia. His hands rested lightly on the back of my couch. “I hope to God you’re still a virgin. Your husband, whoever the unfortunate man turns out to be, will expect it. Perhaps Julia will teach you how to pretend.”

  The silence was deafening. “How can I be?”
Eustacia countered. She put her chin up.

  Richard shrugged. “How should I know?”

  She looked appalled. Perhaps she had persuaded herself the lie was true. “My lord, you can’t be denying our love.” Game to the last.

  He sighed. “When do we make love?” At least he succeeded in making her blush.

  She answered readily enough. She must have been well coached. “When Rose has retired for the night. I came to you. In your bedroom at Southwood House.” She stared at him, daring him to deny it.

  “And what does my bedroom look like?”

  She went on to give an accurate description of his room at Southwood House.

  Richard took a turn around the room, finally stopping in front of where she sat. He stared down at her, then glanced at me, checking I wasn’t distressed, before he continued. “Miss Terry, I don’t know what this is about but both my wife and I know you have never been and would never be my choice of mistress, even if I wanted one.” He ignored her sound of protest, bent down to rest his hands on the arms of her chair and stared at her. She couldn’t escape him. Her open mouth never got to say anything. “My wife and I never used my room at Southwood House. The only time I ever slept in that bed was before my marriage.” He paused and sighed again. “I spend every night with my wife, an eccentricity I thought was well known by now.” He stood upright and gazed down at her. “I must ask you to leave. I cannot have you bringing such distress to Rose.”

  Eustacia opened her mouth again but once more Richard interrupted her. “I advise you to spread your story no further. Even if it was believed, it would only bring you harm. No man would come near you with a respectable proposition after hearing that.” He went on coldly, in a voice which could crack ice. “If you persist in spreading your story, I shall blacken your reputation so thoroughly that when you go home to Devonshire, the doors will be closed to you. One entry in a coffee house betting book and the deed is done. It’s your choice but remember who you hurt most when you spread it.”

  “My lord—I—” It was her turn to be tremulous.

  I hadn’t doubted him. If I knew him any less, if our marriage had been only one of lust or arrangement, it would have been easy to believe but the flaw for Eustacia was that I knew him too well.

  He held out his hand to help her to her feet. She placed her own small hand in it but he released her as soon as she was standing. “A foolish attempt. You should have known Rose better than that.” The deliberate, intimate use of my first name was to tell her something.

  He didn’t give her a chance to say anything further, courteously showing her out into the care of her maid. I heard his voice in the hall, asking that the carriage be brought round to take her home.

  He came back upstairs and gazed at me. His mouth was set in a straight line, his eyes grave. “I knew it. They had a spy at Southwood House, almost certainly the little blonde maid.”

  “Oh, Richard!”

  “Someone let that girl in, the one in our room that morning. When my mother checked with her housekeeper, they’d never heard of a Susan Jackson, much less employed her. The Drurys have been turning up at functions we’ve attended a little too much of late. We go from ball to rout and they’re there. I’ve left instructions with Carier to make discreet enquiries. And I won’t have Eustacia admitted again.” He brought a chair and sat next to me, taking my hand again. “Don’t let it worry you, my love. We’re here and we left all my mother’s servants behind. I have you safe now and unobserved, I’m sure of it.”

  “I don’t like it, Richard, I don’t like the idea of it.”

  “So you didn’t mind the idea of Miss Terry becoming my mistress but you don’t like to be spied on?”

  I knew he was teasing me to lighten my mood. “You know I didn’t believe that.”

  “I don’t deserve your trust.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Didn’t you doubt me at all?”

  “If she had been anyone else, I might have paused for thought, even though you should know I would never doubt you. But not her, not after Exeter.”

  A frown crossed his face at that reminder but it didn’t stay there long. “She must be very stupid. What made her think she could persuade you she was telling the truth?”

  “She’s always had a fancy for you, you know. Her father tried to dirty me in your eyes and make you turn to her. And we’ve been careful not to show our affection in front of the Drurys, so they may have informed her that our ardour has cooled. I don’t think she expected me to call you in. If Julia had been correct in her assumptions, I’d have accused you of it later and you’d have denied it but the seed of doubt would have been planted.”

  “Would it?”

  “Of course not.”

  He frowned. “You’re far too good for me. I couldn’t break your trust, even if I were ever tempted to do so, which as you must know is extremely unlikely in any case. You know I’m no saint, and you know I appreciate beauty, but I’m no longer tempted to sample it for myself.”

  I gazed into those celestial eyes. “This may cause some mischief. Julia may allow this to become known. It will start the gossips all over again.”

  He shrugged.

  “Poor Eustacia.”

  “She doesn’t deserve your compassion, my love. She’s a stupid girl, as well as a vindictive one. If anything ruins her reputation, this will.”

  He stood and drew me to my feet. “Now will you please me and lie down for an hour? You look tired and I don’t like to see it.”

  “I was going upstairs when Jervis told me that Eustacia was here. I’ll go and rest gladly.”

  He escorted me into the hall, his arm still around my waist. He kissed me before I desired Nichols to be sent up and I went to the room we were to share together.

  I was going to like it here.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ONE EVENING NOT LONG after our move, Richard was engaged with some friends at one of those clubs held at a coffee house, strictly male, devoted to literature and fine wine. I confidently expected him home in the small hours, disgracefully drunk, so I decided to retire early with a good book of my own. This was a great luxury, as all our days seemed to be filled from morning until the small hours. I changed into a light undress, removing stays and hoops and settled down in the small parlour with a pot of tea and a warm fire.

  The vigorously clanging doorbell interrupted my enjoyment and Tom was announced. I greeted him but it was clear he was in a great state of agitation and he thrust a note into my hands, bidding me read.

  Dear Tom,

  I hope you don’t find this but if you do, it’s just to tell you not to worry. I’ve been invited to join a party for a masquerade at Vauxhall. You know how I wanted to go but no one would let me. I’ll be back soon, see you in the morning.

  Georgiana.

  I looked up at Tom, the note in my hand. “She says she’ll come to no harm. Don’t you trust her, Tom?”

  “It’s not that.” He didn’t sit, as I had bid him, but strode about the room, his long legs making nothing of the carpet. “She’s so innocent, I’m afraid someone will take advantage of her. I don’t know who she went with or when she made her plans. I’m afraid for her, Rose. These masquerades have a fearsome reputation.”

  Indeed, he was right. Private masquerades were at the more risqué side of fashionable society but the public ones were an excuse for the better dressed ladies of the town to mingle with society, soliciting clients, and for illicit meetings between lovers and other types of dubious activity. The thrill must have encouraged Georgiana, together with the invitation of which Tom assured me he had not been aware.

  “Why didn’t you go and fetch her home?”

  He hung his head. “I hoped to find your husband home. I didn’t want it generally known she’d gone, I wanted to fetch her back without too much fuss and I thought Lord Strang was probably the best person to ask for help.”

  “I’m afraid he’s gone in pursuit of literary excellence but with a few bottles of wine to
go with it. He won’t be back for a long time.” I sighed and stood. “I’ll come with you and send word around to Gervase’s lodgings, though I fear he’ll be out too. Have you any idea who she might have gone with?”

  “None at all. James and Martha have gone to a rout with Lizzie and Ruth, and the Terrys have gone to a ball with the Drurys, so I can’t think who would have taken her.” He shook his head. “I can’t ask you, Rose, you can’t come.”

  “As long as you don’t desert me for some lady of the night, we’ll be fine,” I assured him. “I’ll take Nichols, too, you know she’s a little more than a lady’s maid. Not to mention a footman or two.”

  Tom frowned. I, who knew him so well, saw how worried he was. “You know I wouldn’t ask but I’m at my wit’s end. If it became known she attended something like that, it could ruin her.” He looked helplessly at me.

  I thought the women were fools, but I wouldn’t hesitate to help my old friend. I stood to leave the room. “I’ll be as quick as I can but I can’t go out in undress.” I went upstairs, calling for Nichols, who came at once. She disapproved of the errand but I explained to her the necessity of discretion and she agreed Georgiana must be fetched home. I dressed quickly as I could, added a domino, bought in case of the occasion of a private masque and Nichols produced a mask, a plain black one. She also found a man’s domino for Tom, with a mask attached to the hood. I wrote a note for Richard, explaining where I was and when I passed through the hall, I encountered Brangwyn, so I entrusted it to him. Two of our burliest footmen waited for us.

  I didn’t dare use my carriage or chair, because they were embossed with Richard’s family crest, and he’d taken the uncrested one, so we ordered a hackney to take us to Vauxhall. Nichols, Tom and I crammed inside, the footmen following behind. These hackneys were only built for two. The night was chilly, so I was glad of my warm, enveloping domino and gloves, covering my tell-tale ruby betrothal ring and the wedding ring I had never taken off since our first true wedding night in Venice. Tom sat silently next to me, brooding on the fate of his sister. I put my hand over his and he smiled wanly. I tried to reassure him. “Georgiana has a lot of sense. I’m sure she’ll be all right. Many respectable people go to these masquerades.”