Sarah raised her brows.
“He has a cousin of some sort, a distant relation on his mother’s side. He was never on close enough terms with the man to visit his home, so I dismissed the connection.”
“Why are you rethinking it now?” Sarah prompted.
“Because he once mentioned occasionally being forced to offer general maintenance services at this cousin’s business when funds were low. The work was always grueling and did nothing to improve his relationship with the cousin.”
“But what does that have to do with ‘summer days of languid delight’?” Sarah asked, not comprehending the connection.
“Because he mentioned a particular summer when the work nearly killed him. He wasn’t the one experiencing delight, but the patrons of the place do, and it became a point of contention.”
“Well, there you have it!” The excitement of Thomas’ realization served to revitalize Sarah as they now appeared a step closer to finding the information Thomas needed. “You can go to this cousin’s business and—”
Her enthusiasm waned when she noticed Thomas’ look of defeat. “Can’t you go to this cousin’s business?”
“No,” he responded dully. “It’s a club.”
“I don’t understand,” Sarah stated, taking in Thomas’ agitated stance and his instant pacing. “What would prevent you from going there?”
“The particular nature of this club.”
An uncomfortable reluctance in his voice alerted Sarah to the underlying meaning of his words. “I take it this is not a reputable club?” She hazarded, looking up at him.
He paused in his pacing long enough to give a small half smile. “You would be correct.”
She hesitated, wondering how to bring up her next point. “Forgive me, Sir Thomas, but I still don’t see the difficulty. Whether or not you habitually frequent such clubs, would you not still be allowed admittance?” Her cheeks began to flare.
Sir Thomas cleared his throat and began to look distinctly uncomfortable. “Again, Miss Langdon, in most cases you would be correct. I could gain entry to most gentleman’s clubs whether reputable or not.”
Sarah waited; eyebrows still hovering expectantly. Sir Thomas paced another few rounds before glancing in her direction and realizing she was waiting for his response.
“And this is the aspect of Langdon stubbornness which I don’t appreciate,” he grumbled, then considered his next words. “Miss Langdon, most gentleman’s clubs are primarily gaming hells. Entrance is open to whoever wants to take part. Some of them earn additional income by providing…” Here he paused and Sarah could swear even in the dim lighting of the tapers on her desk a bit of color rose to his cheeks. “By providing additional entertainment and private rooms to those who wish to partake in them.”
Sarah relaxed. With three older brothers and having grown up in a seafaring family, she couldn’t claim so much innocence that she didn’t understand the gist of what Sir Thomas hinted at. A good deal of money could be had by providing female companionship for the gentlemen at these clubs, and if her brother’s stories were to be believed, any proprietor of such a place would be considered feckless to discount that source of income. Taking a breath and attempting to remain rational in the conversation, she persisted. “I understand that, but you seem to think that this club would not allow you admittance. What’s the difference between this one and the others?”
Thomas rubbed at the back of his neck and turned to inspect the embers in the hearth. “Graham’s cousin has been in this business for quite some time. He’s run several gaming hells and concluded at some point that the extracurricular entertaining could be more profitable than the traditional game rooms. He decided to test this theory by opening a boutique club catering only to rented rooms.”
Sarah swallowed as she took in that information. “All right,” she squeaked, “but couldn’t you still—”
“In addition,” Thomas continued, having anticipated her response, “he anticipated needing to create something a bit more unique in order to compete with the clubs which offered more entertainment on the one hand, and the common brothel on the other. Therefore, he created a club not only exclusive in its insistence on rented rooms but decided to decrease his personal costs while simultaneously increasing curiosity by not providing the entertainment for those rooms. In short, gentlemen who wish to make use of this club must obtain their own companion and are not allowed admittance without one.”
“Ah, I see.”
“And before you begin your argument again, there is obviously no respectable lady I would care to bring to such a place even on this type of errand. Additionally, though there are a handful of women working in tandem with Lord Addington’s Agency, I don’t know any of them well enough to ask their assistance and certainly not well enough to trust that my doing so might not get back to Lord Addington himself, counteracting all of my efforts at being secretive.”
Sarah remained silent as they both delved into their own thoughts for a potential next course of action.
“Attempting to break into the place would be nigh on suicidal,” Thomas mumbled from where he stood resting and arm over the fireplace mantle. The proprietor is maniacal about security in all his clubs, this one is no different. If anything, he is stricter in this case due to the restricted nature of entry. It appeals to a surprising number of men to try to enter the place on a loophole.”
A thought occurred to Sarah. She initially dismissed it as out of hand, but it returned. She dismissed it again, knowing Sir Thomas would not entertain it. But the thought persisted. Eventually, after several more minutes of contemplation without either of them uttering a word, she gave in to the thought and took breath to voice it. “You could take me.”
Thomas turned to look at her as though she’d just sprouted horns and begun speaking Aramaic. “What?”
“Take me as your companion. If you can gain entry so long as you have a companion, there shouldn’t be any cause for concern. You can get to the room he’s indicated and search it.”
“Absolutely not. I’m already sure to have fallen even further in your brother’s graces by the fact that you’re here. I won’t take you to such an establishment.”
“What choice have you got?” Sarah argued. “The only way you’re going to clear your name, is to find the information that this friend of yours wanted you to find. You can’t delay forever until you find the perfect secretive way to gain entry to this club. Sometimes the most direct route is the most beneficial.”
Thomas didn’t argue, but she could tell he was debating her words. The set to his brow indicated strong aversion to the idea, but the fact he hadn’t contradicted her gave her some hope. If she could argue her case effectively, she might stand a chance at helping him. “You can trust me to keep quiet on your behalf. She insisted. There’s no reason for me to mention any of this to anyone in my family. I’m no more inclined to ruin myself than you are to take part in that process. But right now, as far as I can tell, I’m the only option you have.”
Chapter 7
“When we get there, stay by my side.”
“Yes, Sir Thomas.”
“There will likely be someone at the door to check our invitation. Let me do the talking.”
“Yes, Sir Thomas.”
“We’re going to head straight there and straight back again.”
“Yes, Sir Thomas.
“And for heaven’s sake, would you stop calling me Sir.” Thomas grumbled, more irritated with himself than with Sarah. “The title seems laughable in this scenario.”
Sarah turned her head from where she sat looking out the window into the darkened London city streets and blinked at him. “Only if you refrain from calling me Miss Langdon.” She insisted with a tiny half smile. That caused Thomas to blink in return. The carriage jostled over uneven cobblestones. They’d entered a neighborhood in the farther reaches of the city, though still on the edges of respectability enough to encourage London’s elite to visit this particular
club. Unprepared for the jolt, his shoulder slammed into the side of the carriage as he opened his mouth to respond, lending an excuse to his hesitation.
“Actually,” he admitted, attempting to sound rational and ignore the small uptick in his pulse at the thought of addressing Sarah informally, “that would be a good rule of thumb for tonight either way. My name is tarnished enough as it is at the moment, and I have no desire to let my whereabouts be known, but we must take care that your name and your identity remain completely secret in all of this.” He gnawed at the inside of his cheek. “I don’t like it, Sarah, we should turn around this instant and I’ll find another way to get into the club.”
Sarah sighed from across the way and let herself sink back into the upholstery of her seat. Not much light filtered into the carriage, the ill-maintained city lampposts in this neighborhood stood few and far between. The moon provided some illumination but was not quite full and suffered from the encroachment of sparse clouds, allowing Thomas only brief glimpses of Sarah’s features.
That might be just as well, as for some reason his mind kept picturing her differently from what he knew and remembered of every previous interaction they’d ever had. The softer light of the evenings in which he’d seen her recently evoked a strange effect in him, accentuating her heretofore unnoticed beauty and causing him distraction. Just at this moment, the moon took the opportunity to escape its nebulous confines and a brief silver glow reflected across her features, creating the look of a spectral princess in hues of soft white and muted gold. It was a sight that made his breath catch and heightened his conviction that this outing was a terrible idea.
“You’re being illogical again,” she noted, and Thomas had to think a moment to remember the last portion of the conversation. “I thought I made the point clear that the sooner you resolve this, the sooner we can both get back to our everyday routines.”
“That might be true for you,” Thomas mumbled, I’m not entirely certain I’ll ever be able to get back to what I thought my life was.” He clamped his mouth shut, realizing he voiced more than intended to with that statement. Hoping she might not have noticed, he diverted his attention to the window on the pretense of checking to see whether or not they were nearly at their destination. Her gaze lingered on him; he knew it in the way his skin began to warm under her consideration. It unnerved him, how quickly this girl effected such a reaction in him.
“Are you not enjoying your work? Or do you harbor some reason to rethink your profession?” She asked softly.
Thomas thought a moment, unsure how to respond. He’d walked himself into a wall and had few options to retreat from it. They were close to the club, but not close enough for him to avoid the question.
“It’s not so much a matter of what I want, but that I may have played out my usefulness for the intelligence community.” He confessed, noting the unpleasant edge in his tone.
“What do you mean?”
Thomas looked over at Sarah, catching her look of concern a moment before another cloud obscured the moon and her features were again hidden in shadow. He shouldn’t burden her with his own troubles, he thought, but the darkened confines of the carriage eased his ability to speak, and since losing the option of discussing his work and his plans with Eric, he felt somewhat isolated. Against his better judgment, he began to elaborate.
“I’m afraid that my usefulness in my career may have been largely exaggerated,” he began. “My more recent assignments and activities have not ended as successfully as those in earlier days, as exemplified by this mess I’m in now.”
“But you can’t blame yourself for that,” Sarah insisted. “You can’t anticipate how events will play out. And your career puts you into an even greater state of unknowing than the everyday existence of everyone else does.”
Thomas huffed a bitter laugh. “Dear Sarah, are you so good and innocent that you believe the best of everyone? Or am I one of a select few who receive such treatment?”
He meant it as a good thing, her kindness to him at present helped a great deal to keep him sane and keep him moving forward rather than giving in to the impossibility of his task and giving up. The words failed in their intent, however, and even from across the way and amid the darkness he felt her stiffen in reproach.
“I am not so kind and innocent as the world assumes,” she bit out more aggressively than he expected, catching both his attention and his curiosity.
“Indeed not,” he agreed. “You’ve shown qualities I never associated with you, and I can’t say it’s been a disappointment.” That much was true, her independence and shows of astute intelligence impressed him. He’d understood her to be a bright girl for years, but he’d always taken it for granted. Her interest in his work and show of enthusiasm when he allowed her the chance to look at Graham’s coded notebook, caused a jolt of surprise which displayed her in a new light.
Her idea to come to the club and her willingness to volunteer for the role of his companion shocked him. She’d shown no sign of trepidation or embarrassment in the offer, only resolute logic and pragmatism. That in itself attested to her strength. Despite his increased sense of protectiveness over her in the absence of her brother, a kind of excitement began to bloom in which he wondered what she might think of next and how the night would play out.
She softened somewhat. “Forgive me,” she apologized. “My status as youngest and most quiet of my sisters, indeed of my siblings in general, affords me a reputation which occasionally chafes. She left her statement at that, causing Thomas to peer into the shadows in hopes of catching a glimpse of those eyes and getting a better idea of her meaning.
“Perhaps,” he offered, “your less boisterous nature in comparison to your siblings has only delayed the recognition of your unique character. Is there not a saying that the loveliest flowers bloom last?”
Her eyes caught his in the shimmer of moonlight and for a moment he wondered if he’d consoled her or made an irreparable blunder.
The carriage came to a lumbering halt in front of a seemingly well-maintained building. Sarah glanced out the window to distract herself from Thomas’ words, which couldn’t possibly hold the depth of caring her heart wished they did. This entire escapade had already proven torturous to her from the moment Thomas had taken her hand as she sneaked past the slumbering guard at the back of the house and wrapped a protective arm about her as they hurried to the waiting carriage two streets over.
Her heart began to thrum, and her breathing faltered to a far greater degree than she could justify through the uncertainty of their current adventure. She’d hoped the carriage ride might provide her some time to compose herself, but it had the opposite effect. Confined to the small, dark space with only occasional glimpses of Thomas meeting her view as they passed through the almost empty streets only served to incite a desire to sit directly beside him and take his hand like a frightened child, yearning for the comfort of the arms which had surrounded her so securely in their initial flight.
Despite actively attempting to effect a show of confidence and bravado, her nerves stood on end and her heart lurched with trepidation. She’d spent so much time defending her actions both to Eric and to Thomas, so much time rationalizing it in her mind, but now for the first time her mind shouted at her loud enough to resist being ignored. What in the world had she gotten herself into?
If her brothers ever found out what she was doing, they would lock her in her room and never allow her out again. And all for what? To play out a hopeless fantasy she’d been nurturing for years. But it was too late to do anything about it now. Everything she’d told Thomas was true. The sooner he was able to sort this out for himself, the sooner he could go back to a normal life. If she could help him in that, she would. Not that she would ever be able to go back to any semblance of a normal life. She hadn’t been able to do that from the day she first laid eyes on him. But such was the bargain she struck with herself. This one last effort, and then she would truly leave him be, go on with life as
best she could. Across the way, Thomas leaned forward to look out the window before reaching into his pocket.
“Here we are. Ready?” He asked with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips, though that smile didn’t reflect in the trepidation she recognized in his eyes. Not trusting her voice to remain steady, she nodded.
“Here,” he said handing across a piece of fabric.
She’d forgot he told her they would wear masks, and that it wouldn’t seem amiss. Apparently, many of the patrons of this club chose to wear masks, especially the women, in an attempt to maintain the more respectable reputations some of them had. Only those with a true devil-may-care outlook on life entered without a mask.
She’d only just fastened the ties when the coachman opened the door for them. Thomas exited first, then turned to offer his hand. She hoped her trembling evaded notice. To her surprise, he didn’t release her once descended from the carriage but took her hand into the crook of his arm, keeping her close beside him as they walked up the front steps.
A large, burly man guarded the front door, his glower and size causing Sarah to automatically shift closer to Thomas. For his part, Thomas appeared unfazed and reached into his breast pocket to procure an invitation, presenting it to the giant in front of them. The man inspected the note, then narrowed his eyes at them. Thomas met the man’s gaze, but Sarah had all she could do maintaining her stance and not allowing her knees to give way. She ducked her glance when the man looked her over. After what felt like an eternity, he handed back the note and stepped aside, nodding at the door.
“Alfonse will direct you to your room. He’s in the front parlor.”
Sarah recognized the name used by Mr. Cartwright’s cousin.
Thomas gave a curt nod and entered the building, never quite letting go of her as he did so. She walked along beside him, taking in the scene around her as they entered. The place espoused an odd sort of dichotomy. On the one hand the interior had the look and feel of an elegant home, tastefully decorated and relatively quiet on the ground floors, though she did note several indistinct voices and laughter coming from rooms down the hall. From the first look of it, there was nothing untoward about the place, yet what she knew of its purpose lent a dark atmosphere to the environment which set her skin to crawling in the same manner as a grotesque horror story might.
A Clandestine Affair (Currents of Love Book 5) Page 6