Harley Street

by Lynne Connolly

  “Would you go?” Tom demanded.

  “I’ve never considered it an amusing prospect and Richard never offered to take me. We’re busy enough.”

  “You were at home tonight,” he pointed out.

  I couldn’t keep the wistfulness out of my voice. “My last free night for a long time.”

  Vauxhall was usually approached by water but we were in a hurry, in no mood for amusements. When we reached Lambeth, we left the hackney and hurried around to the entrance, Tom fumbling in his pocket for the price of admission. The footmen followed behind us. I knew they wouldn’t interfere unless I asked them to. They were there for my safety. I’d already donned my mask and as we passed through the gates, Tom lifted his hood over his head. It was nine o’clock and supper was about to be served, so we hurried towards the supper rooms in the hope of finding Georgiana and her party there. The brightly lit avenues were thronged with people in a variety of disguises, some of them none too decorous. My heart sank when I saw the acres of flesh on display. Not a respectable night, then. Not even verging on it.

  We soon discovered how difficult it was to find a company of people, all masked, in a company of their peers. I kept my arm firmly on Tom’s, and Nichols, also cloaked and masked, followed us closely. The footmen hovered.

  We toured the supper rooms several times and short of removing my own mask and waiting for Georgiana to come to us, I couldn’t think what else to do. We decided to move on, to where the dancing was well underway.

  Vauxhall masquerades were popular and the avenues were even more crowded than before. I passed a couple who were busily engaged in something that should never be attempted in public and averted my eyes hurriedly. I had to ignore Tom’s despairing curse. “What if that were her? She wouldn’t know how to escape. Oh, Georgiana!”

  The dance floor was similarly packed but lit with a thousand candles and lamps, making it much easier for us to see. The dances weren’t at all the decorous, graceful efforts of West End ballrooms but seemed to be a mixture of country dances and a general romp, where the man seized a lady and capered about the floor.

  We were looking on, when suddenly a strong pair of arms seized me. I looked wildly behind and was glad to see Tom, thinking on his feet, had grabbed Nichols and was pursuing me closely. Although I wasn’t used to being handled in this way, after the first shock, it did give me an opportunity to look about as I whirled briskly about the floor with my unknown admirer. I saw no one I knew, so I let my gallant whirl me around twice more until I felt giddy and one of the footmen, his face grim, approached to extricate me. I glanced at him, trying to assure him I was fine and to stay back. I didn’t want to advertise the fact that I had bodyguards.

  I studied him, the eyes glittering behind the mask, a loose, inebriated smile on his face. “Shall we find somewhere a little more private?” He’d been talking as we danced but I’d taken no notice, too intent on searching for Georgiana.

  “What for?” I asked stupidly, my mind not on the conversation.

  He leaned forward. I smelled the sour wine on his breath. “I’ve taken a fancy to you, my dear. Don’t worry, I’ll see you right.” He leaned farther forward.

  “I think not.”

  “Oh yes.” He breathed gusts of foul, sour air and came closer still.

  So I took the stiletto out of my pocket and let him see it. “No.”

  Tom and Nichols had caught up by then and Nichols stood back, her own hand in her pocket, watching the man. She exchanged a glance with the footman. My gallant escort glanced back and saw them, then shrugged and moved away. “Sorry, my dear. Didn’t know you were spoken for.” I replaced the knife. Tom stared, a strange expression on what I could see of his face.

  I was exasperated. “Did you expect me to come defenceless? If I know Nichols, she has more than a handkerchief in her pocket.” Nichols nodded in confirmation. Tom said nothing, just shook his head. He was used to me as a quiet country girl. I knew I had to change, and I had every intention of doing so.

  Once I’d recovered my breath, we moved on, sure Georgiana wasn’t in the ballroom. Vauxhall had many walks, most dimly lit to facilitate clandestine meetings and we interrupted a few but none of them were of interest to us. Eventually I suggested we should return to the supper room, then go home. We had done our best. Nichols’s shoulders sank in relief and we turned to retrace our steps.

  The walkway was dimly lit and nearly deserted but as we moved back toward the blazing lights of the ballroom, I heard a noise coming from a small bower to our left. I would have walked past but the lady seated in it didn’t entirely seem to welcome the attention of the man who had his arm around her shoulders. As we paused, we saw he was trying to insert his free hand down the bodice of her gown, having pushed aside her domino and the fichu she wore for modesty. There wasn’t a lot left to the imagination.

  Despite my determination to leave the revellers to their sport, the tears coursing down the poor girl’s face moved me and I went over to them.

  I tried to keep my tone reasonable. “Pray leave the girl alone, sir, there must be plenty more available this evening who would be more willing.”

  The man looked up. I saw his eyes glittering behind the black mask. Then he said the last thing I wanted to hear in the voice I least wanted to hear. “Rose?”

  I PUT MY HEAD BACK and gulped some fresh air. When I looked back, the man had indeed desisted and the girl was fumbling at her neck, straightening her costume. Then Tom pushed past. “Georgiana?”

  “Oh, Tom!” She threw herself into his arms. “Take me home, Tom, I never was so deceived in all my life.” She burst into tears. Tom comforted his sister and I watched her tormentor as he stood and removed his mask.

  We stared at each other. Now he was on his feet, he was more easy to recognise, the handsome features marred by anger, the clothes disarrayed.

  “What were you thinking of?” I asked him coldly.

  “She seemed willing enough.” Steven’s voice was roughened by frustration and anger. “Until just now, when I kissed her, she was all smiles. Believe me, Rose, I wouldn’t have forced her.”

  I didn’t believe it but I didn’t say so. “I’m glad to hear it.” I didn’t like him making so free with my first name, either. “And your wife? What does she think about all this?”

  Steven put his hand to his forehead and dropped it again, gazing at me helplessly. “She has matters of her own to pursue.”

  Georgiana’s tears were abating, settling into gentle sobs now that she was safe with her brother. While I spoke to Steven, Nichols kept her attention on me, my footmen at her back but she helped Georgiana to rearrange her neckwear and make herself decent again.

  “What were you thinking of?” I asked him again. “You know Georgiana, you know she’s a respectable girl, what made you think she would consent to this?” I waved my hand, indicating the dark bower, the lack of attendants.

  He shrugged. “She seemed game. She was laughing and joking over supper, she even kissed Miss Terry on the cheek and she drank as much as the rest of us. She said she felt dizzy and I took that as my cue.”

  Georgiana was flushed and sniffing. “She might have just felt dizzy,” I commented.

  Tom took a hand in the conversation. “You filthy degenerate, I could kill you for this.”

  I feared that Tom might call Steven out and, for Georgiana’s sake, that was the last thing we needed. Any scandal would send her back to Devonshire in disgrace.

  I smiled, one of Richard’s cool smiles with no humour in it. “I wouldn’t call him a degenerate, Tom. Steven just mistook the situation, that’s all.”

  “Still—” Tom stepped forward, releasing his sister but I stepped between them before he could insult Steven further. “Go back to Georgiana, Tom. You don’t want to cause any scandal, do you?” He understood then and casting Steven another black look, went back to his sister. Nichols stared calmly at Steven, her hand in her pocket.

  I studied Steven, the handsome, tall fig
ure, the dark hair shining in the moonlight, looking almost rakish. “You look like a highwayman, standing there with that mask in your hand.”

  “And you look as magnificent as you always did,” he said quietly. “But you’re only just realising it for yourself, aren’t you?” I thought then, perhaps he had some feelings for me. “Your marriage has given you an arrogance that I find totally compelling.”

  There was no doubt about it. He was making advances. “I’m sure that brings you solace in the sleepless nights. How could you have thought Georgiana would be willing to let you take such liberties with her?”

  Giving me one last, glowing look, he turned and bowed low to poor Georgiana, sweeping off his hat and making a graceful gesture of deference with it. “I can only beg your pardon, ma’am. I totally mistook the situation.” He stood straight again. “And yours too, for putting you to any trouble. I understood the lady had permission from her brother and since she was accompanied by her fellow guests from Hareton House, I assumed there was no problem with her attendance at our little soirée tonight.”

  “Well, there was,” said Tom. “Her note didn’t tell me who she was with.”

  “I think we should go before we attract too much attention.” I turned to walk out of the alley, towards the light. Steven offered the support of his arm and after a moment’s hesitation, I took it. I was beginning to feel a familiar faintness and I didn’t want anyone to know, so I had little choice.

  Only I heard what Steven murmured to me. “I meant what I said. I should like to be your friend again.”

  “Really?” I was cool but not impolite. “After trying to kill me?”

  He frowned. “That was foolish but I was so angry. When I thought our betrothal was a settled thing, to find that the woman I’d seen with the arrogant popinjay I had taken such a dislike to was you, I could only think of revenge.”

  I let his reference to my husband pass. “So you don’t think of revenge now?”

  “How can I?” He raised my hand to his lips. I gave him no response and let my hand rest on his sleeve again, although the touch of his lips wasn’t pleasant. It reminded me of things I would rather forget. “You’ve blossomed, come into your own. I knew there was something more inside that dowdy exterior, that given a chance you would grow. I’m sorry it should have been with him, that’s all. Does he treat you well?”

  “Do you treat your wife well?” I countered, not willing to give him any idea of how well Richard did treat me.

  He looked down to meet my eyes. “As well as she expects…. I’ve heard the rumours.”

  “What rumours?” My tone was sharper than I wanted it to be.

  “Your husband and Eustacia Terry. They’re true, aren’t they?”

  “How should I know?” The irritability worked in my favour here.

  He smiled. “It’s flying around the ballrooms that Strang’s finally succumbed. The clubs are looking for proof but there seems little doubt.” My heart sank. I assumed Steven and his wife were not remiss in passing on that particular rumour but I didn’t want them to know how close we really were. That would be a weapon they wouldn’t hesitate to use.

  I looked up into his eyes, making my own round and disingenuous. “Aren’t you surprised that it should be Eustacia?”

  “No, she’s always been an accredited beauty.” He paused. “I’m thinking of making a play for her myself. Do you mind?”

  “No, why should I?”

  “Rose, from our previous acquaintance I wouldn’t have credited you with such good sense. Perhaps marriage was what was needed to knock the romantic notions out of you.”

  Perhaps he remembered the hours I spent with him, gazing adoringly into his eyes while he told me extravagant untruths about myself. I was beginning to feel most uncomfortable. I was glad when we reached the ballroom, where he said he had left the rest of his party and took his leave.

  “Pestilence,” Tom muttered at his back.

  I stared after Steven. “I’ve always considered Julia Drury to be a greater threat.”

  A wave of sick dizziness overcame me. I put my hand up to my forehead and nearly fainted. The heat and the time that I’d spent on my feet nearly defeated me.

  Nichols, behind, caught and supported me, putting her arm firmly about my shoulders. The footmen moved closer. I tried to smile at Tom and Georgiana, who were staring at me in alarm. We made our way to the exit. I didn’t speak when she and Tom helped me into the hackney carriage but leaned back against the greasy cushions with my eyes closed.

  When I opened them, it was to the clear grey regard of Tom and his sister.

  I quavered a smile. “It’s all right, I’ll be well enough when we get home. You’d better stay with us tonight, rather than rouse Hareton House. I’ll have a message sent around when we get home. Can you see to that, Nichols?”

  “After I’ve seen to you, my lady,” said my doughty maid.

  Chapter Fifteen

  WE WERE HOME SOON AND although I was feeling much better, Nichols helped me through the front door. The footman in the hall took our dominoes but my mask was still in my hand as Nichols opened the door to the small parlour and I went through.

  Richard stood by the fireplace, his face harsh, his eyes icy blue, cold and unwelcoming.

  I went forward to face him alone. I heard the others come in but I took no notice. “Where have you been?” he asked levelly, quietly.

  “Vauxhall.”

  He was angry but I couldn’t see why he should be. “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Not a bit.” I didn’t vouchsafe any further confidences.

  “You had forgotten your exhaustion or the reason for it?”

  He was drunk, although I hadn’t noticed this at first. It was sometimes hard to tell when Richard had drunk a little too much. An extra recklessness, an exaggeration, was all most observers would notice. But he was drunker than I’d seen him for a long time. In this state he became reckless, harder, less caring, more like the man I first saw than the one I’d learned to love.

  But I was in no mood to be careful with him. I’d had a difficult time of it.

  I threw the mask I carried to the nearest chair and his gaze followed my gesture. “A masquerade?” His icy stare met my eyes again. “Vauxhall? How salubrious. Did you see anyone we know?” His manner was smooth, formal, hard.

  “Only Steven Drury with his hand down the front of Georgiana’s gown. Didn’t you get my note?”

  That brought him up short. He stared at me then his anger began to dissolve into something else. I saw the ice melt. He must have known a Vauxhall masquerade wouldn’t be my choice of amusement, especially without him and his reason was overcoming whatever anger he was still feeling. The rigid muscles about his mouth softened. “Note?”

  “I left a note with Brangwyn. He didn’t give it to you?”

  He shook his head slowly, his eyes hardening with suspicion. “I saw him when I came in but he said nothing about a note.”

  I frowned in bewilderment. “It’s not like him to forget.”

  “Was there a note?” He still held remnants of his anger, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked. He stood completely still, only the glitter of his jewelled waistcoat buttons revealing his agitation.

  I stared at him, daring him to call me a liar. “Yes, of course there was. I had every expectation of reaching home before you but I left a note in any case.” Something else struck me. “Aren’t you back early?”

  “Yes. I came back to make sure you were well.” The brevity of his answer couldn’t disguise his concern.

  “Did you think I had gone out for pleasure?”

  He drew in a breath and held it, before letting it out heavily. “No,” he confessed, the anger going out of him. “I was worried. Nichols had gone and Carier had no idea where you were.”

  I shook my head. “I took two of our burliest footmen with me. You’d given Carier another task and he wasn’t at home.” We stared at each other and he let me see the fear that had driven him t
o anger.

  Tom said, “We had better go, Georgiana, if you feel well enough?”

  Georgiana flushed. “I’m so sorry for what happened tonight. I shouldn’t have done it, I know, but—”

  “You need not leave.” I had offered them a bed for the night. I turned around to prevent him but unfortunately, I turned too quickly. I caught my heel in my gown and at the same time was hit by such a strong wave of sick dizziness, I fell like a stone.

  Nichols and Richard caught me together but it was Richard who lifted and placed me on the nearest sofa and knelt to take my hands. I heard a faint scream and knew it was Georgiana.

  “Her ladyship became faint at Vauxhall,” Nichols informed him. “I had to support her to the carriage.”

  “Oh, dear God, Rose, I’m so sorry.” His voice shook. “I was desperately worried when I found you gone and I could discover no note or any indication of where you had gone. I was in despair. When you returned, healthy, dressed for a masquerade—forgive me, my love.”

  Tom’s anxious face over Richard’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, Rose? Are you ill? Oh, I knew I should have gone on my own, I should never have told you.”

  “No, I’m not ill.” I didn’t feel up to saying any more at that moment. The room still spun.

  Nichols returned with a cold drink of milk. Richard helped me sit up then gave me the glass so I could drink, his steadying arm around my shoulders. I smiled at him gratefully and the atmosphere between us thawed. “Tom needed help. Georgiana had gone to Vauxhall with an unknown party of people. It was the Drurys and Miss Terry but we didn’t know that until we found her.”