CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Lieutenant Crisp, how nice to see you again. Have you been drilling diligently?”
The young officer blushed as Verity addressed him. “Yes indeed, though it is not the same in England, with no enemy to outmanoeuvre. I had hopes we might be sent overseas again, but the word is that our next posting is to Liverpool.”
“How very disappointing. Liverpool is generally accounted to be a fine city though, is it not?”
“Oh yes, my home is in those parts, so I have been there many times. The posting is convenient in that respect, but I like the reduced leisure time when the regiment is overseas.” He coloured faintly. “I am not very skilled at cards or dice, Miss Bowman. I prefer to be doing than gaming.”
“Ah, I see. I am afraid I know little of the army. Can you perhaps volunteer for extra duties?”
His expression lightened. “That is what Miss Congreve suggested. Thank you. I will see what my captain has to say.”
They were interrupted by the lazy drawl of another officer, his red coat nudging between Verity and Lieutenant Crisp in a manner that just stopped short of impertinence. “What’s this, Crisp? First Miss Congreve, now Miss Bowman. We can’t have you monopolising all the ladies. I have barely spoken to either of them this evening.” He lifted Verity’s fingers in what was presumably supposed to be a deferential manner and dropped a less-than-welcome kiss on them
Verity stiffened in shock. Not only had Lieutenant Neville barely spoken to her this evening, he had barely spoken to her ever. Up until now, she had not even realised she had registered on him as a presence in her own right. She jerked her hand free and moved slightly away. “We were talking of Liverpool and the fine architecture. Do you know the port at all?”
“I can’t say I do. London, now, I’m far more at home in. I could show you plenty of the sights here. Vauxhall Gardens, perhaps, or Ranelagh. Have you ever been to Ranelagh, Miss Bowman? I assure you it is an experience one does not soon forget.”
Verity might not be as conversant with London and its many attractions as Julia, but she knew perfectly well where was permissible for an unmarried young lady to go and where was not. Even had she only this minute heard of the pleasure gardens, there was enough in Lieutenant Neville’s caressing voice to tell her exactly what sort of experience she was likely to get there.
She gave a tight smile. “I was taken there as a child to see the fireworks. Excuse me, gentlemen, my mother is beckoning to me.”
She whisked away, wiping her fingers surreptitiously on her skirt to rid herself of Lieutenant Neville’s touch. If Julia had been putting up with similar veiled invitations, it was a wonder she did not spend all her time scrubbing her hands under the scullery pump. She wondered why she should suddenly be singled out for his attention.
As she skirted chattering groups, she also asked herself what she was doing at parties such as this. She had found Kitty, which had been her primary object in coming to London. She had satisfied herself that Julia was not about to make a fool of herself. Mama was happier and livelier that she had been for years. Charles seemed in a fair way to granting access to her legacy. All that was left was to persuade Kitty to return to Newmarket with her, which could not be accomplished at a rout party.
“Verity, dear,” said her mother, looking bright-eyed and a lot more animated than she was herself. “Let me introduce you to Mrs Pinkerton. Mrs Pinkerton has been telling me of her villa in Kensington. She has invited us to take tea with her tomorrow. It sounds completely charming and there are several vacant houses nearby of the same type. I have been wondering if we might move to London rather than Furze House, so nice as it is to be with our friends here and for you to visit the attractions and mix in society more. What do you think, my dear?”
With an enormous effort of will, Verity prevented her horror at the idea from showing on her face. “It is certainly an interesting idea, Mama.” She turned to the comfortable matron sitting next to her parent. “I look forward to tomorrow’s visit, Mrs Pinkerton. Have you resided in the area long?”
This was a disaster, she thought in despair, making her way over to Julia after listening to a comprehensive recitation of all the advantages to be found in Kensington. She was of course delighted that Mama was so happy and taking an interest in life again, but Kitty would never come to Kensington. It was by far too close to her husband. Additionally, without Mama’s allowance to combine with her own legacy, Verity herself could not afford Furze House. She wished Charles was here to talk to, even more so when she was thwarted in her intention of a tête-à-tête with Julia by the sight of the officers now forming part of her friend’s circle. Instead she turned aside to compliment Miss Stanhope on her mother’s excellent arrangements this evening. The easy words fell from her lips, but inside she was distraught as to what to do next.
Miss Stanhope beamed and chattered away, clearly under the impression she had made a new friend. “We are to have an impromptu hop in a little while,” she confided. “I am sure everyone enjoys a dance, do they not? Everything is planned and Miss Green has practised the music. My mother is simply waiting on anyone particularly well-connected arriving, so they may be welcomed first.”
“Inspired,” murmured Verity, wondering if her hostess knew the correct meaning of impromptu.
Miss Stanhope jiggled excitedly and gave a suppressed squeal. “Oh, the officers are rolling back the carpet. Lieutenant Neville moves so very well, does he not? One would think the effort nothing. He is coming over! He is going to ask me to dance, I know it. Oh, Miss Bowman, whatever shall I say? Our neighbour Mr Hollis was supposed to lead me out.”
“Then you should move swiftly across to your mama as if you have noticed nothing. Come, I will go with you so as to make it not look so singular.”
Miss Stanhope turned with evident reluctance as Verity linked her arm firmly in hers. “Oh, but there is something about Lieutenant Neville that is quite delicious, don’t you think?”
Verity nearly retorted that in that case she should stay and have her heart broken and see how delicious she found that, but instead she conscientiously steered the impressionable young lady to the safety of her mother’s machinations.
Now I can talk to Julia, she thought, only to be frustrated once again, and this time most unpleasantly.
“What a noble guest you are,” purred Lieutenant Neville in her ear. “Will you do me the honour of partnering me in the first dance?”
“I regret I must sit this out,” said Verity, cross that he had come up so very close behind her without invitation or encouragement. “I have a headache and would no doubt stumble over my own feet.”
He smiled widely. “Then I shall bear you company. No one should suffer a headache alone.”
Verity’s temper snapped. “I should be very poor company and am better left alone. Pray do not let me prevent you from enjoying yourself.”
“So modest. So delightful. Come, Miss Bowman, confess. Is not the music setting those dainty toes a-twitch?”
She stared at him in disbelief, furious that he was persevering. She was on the point of telling him that her feet were in fact a-twitch to administer a sharp kick, when her elbow was grasped from behind and she was borne towards the set then forming with a careless, “My apologies, Miss Bowman, I was delayed. I trust you will forgive me.”
“Charles, you are a complete saviour,” she said in deep thankfulness as they took their places. “I have never been more glad to see anyone. I am not even going to ask why you are here uninvited.”
“It would be of no use your doing so, for I scarcely know myself. It was not my intention. Shall we say you are not the only one who has had a trying evening.”
Earlier that evening
“Well, Nick, what do you have for us?” said Fitz
As Nicholas Dacre entered, Charles roused himself from his contemplation of Fitz’s notes on the latest bruised and battered anonymous woman fished out of Limehouse Basin. They were meeting in his own rooms tonight - the Albany was populous enough that a watcher would find nothing unusual in the casual arrivals and departures of any number of gentlemen. He waved Nick towards the decanter.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” said Nick. “Sad to say, I have nothing. Molly Turner was pleased to share a cosy supper with me last evening in the upper room of an inn a little way from the theatres. We discussed a great many plays, I find my mind quite astonishingly expanded as regards the iniquities practised by those malicious folk who like to defraud an honest woman out of making an honest penny, but as soon as the word Flint crossed my lips not one scrap more could I get out of her.”
“A rare failure.”
“Indeed. I must say, she has a refreshingly honest way about doing business and was happy to talk or not, as I wanted, but give away anything that might come back to hurt her or her kin she would not.”
“Did she say as much, Nick?”
“In those very words. Then finished her supper as pleasant as could be, tucked her money away and trotted off.”
Benedict Fitzgilbert drummed his fingers lightly on the table. “More and more I believe this Flint to be our shadowy gentleman. He has got them all running scared. Not a single loose mouth. Just the odd word, dropped like a crumb from a table.”
Charles stirred. “It speaks of money. Or power. He has to have a network. Why do we not know his thugs at the very least?”
“Because if we so much as get a sniff of one, they’re in the river next morning with their throat slit.”
“Just like these poor nameless women,” said Charles, touching Fitz’s notes. “Battered, abused, discarded.”
“Indeed,” said Fitz soberly. “We can only keep trying. I had hopes of your Molly Turner, Charles, but it was not to be. Speaking of obstinate females, what progress are you making on the lesser matter of the charming Captain Eastwick?”
Charles gestured helplessly. “It may be a lesser matter to you, but it is not to Kitty Eastwick. Hers is a hard-won caution. She says she married him with her eyes open, but she did not. How could she? She was born and brought up a gentleman’s daughter. She could not have known what her life would be with Eastwick. He is a charismatic predator, a bully, a gamester and appears entirely without morals.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a list. You haven’t thought he may be Flint?”
Charles shook his head. “I don’t believe so. His life is too open. I have had a man watching him - or I did until he felt himself to be observed in turn. Simon Eastwick is bad through and through, but I do not get the sense of a great criminal mind at work. He preys on women whilst maintaining a home life that is just on this side of the law. He strives to be the lord of his village pond, not of the whole ocean.”
Fitz nodded. “What is your next move?”
“I am open to suggestions. Julia already has proof of his deceit where one young lady is concerned. Sadly, it is not sufficient to bring him to trial without compromising the family concerned and exposing the young woman to scandal and shame. I would prefer not to create a scandal, so exposing his card-sharping activities seems the most promising line.”
Nicholas sipped his wine. “It maybe an irregular source of knowledge, but your womenfolk are certainly getting results, Charles. Look how quickly they found out about the Pool when they put their information together.”
“Irregular is right. They do not know when to stop. I would have both Verity and Julia safely out of town, but they will not leave without Mrs Eastwick and she is too scared to move at present. You may believe me when I say I am expediting the matter of Furze House as fast as the due processes of the law allow. I do think Kitty will talk more freely when she feels safe. “
Fitz regarded him thoughtfully. ”Nick’s levity has more than a grain of truth,” he said. “Ladies go where we cannot. They trust each other where they will not trust us. I have noticed it with my sister. A few careful female conversations now and again could save us a deal of time.”
Charles beat down the irrational rage that filled him at this statement, and forced himself to examine the idea coolly. He came to the reluctant conclusion that Fitz might be right. “It is a possibility, yes,” he managed, “but I would still have them away from London. There may yet be hope for a word from Molly. Verity’s latest plan is to invite her to Newmarket with them and to turn the rear of Furze House into a laundry to help finance the place.” He winced, bracing himself for the inevitable ribald comments.
“A laundry?” said Nick, with a shout of laughter. “Is that what those houses are called these days?”
Charles drained his glass. “Exactly so, but she insists it will be respectable. She says they will entertain morning callers and hold card evenings and sewing afternoons for their friends and go about their normal daily business.” He paused, then added unwillingly, “She also suggests, if you please, that if Furze House is not thought entirely respectable, then it would be the perfect location for the Pool to meet or exchange reports when out of town, because any curious outsiders will imagine us gentleman are otherwise engaged. I declare I will hang for the minx. She should not even know of these things. She will be tarnished by association if such a rumour gets abroad. Now do you see why I wish to remove her from town and settle her respectably?”
The other two men exchanged a considering look.
“What?” said Charles into the silence.
“I understand your objections regarding Miss Bowman’s reputation, but it is not necessarily a bad plan to have a house in Newmarket where we could meet,” said Nick cautiously. “I certainly could have done with one last week. Arriving at the race meeting so late, I had a desperate time finding a half-decent room. I ended up in a truckle bed in the loft of the White Hart along with half-a-dozen of the worst topers in town. Don’t hate me, Charles, but I did look over your Furze House out of curiosity - and was favourably impressed. Think about it. Rothwell keeps horses with his brother-in-law. You have clients in Suffolk. I daresay Fitz visits the racecourse from time to time.”
“I don’t, but I do have a sister who would be delighted to request my escort in order to search out any or all antiquities in the area. I daresay she would be as ready as the others to join your irregulars, though preferably without the taint of scandal.” He shrugged. “Newmarket is less than a day’s journey from London. It seems a workable plan when we have large schemes to put together. If you require more finance, it’s yours.”
“You are both impossible,” said Charles shortly. He passed a hand across his forehead. “Forgive me, gentlemen, I am appalling company today.”
Fitz rose. “We are done in any case. I shall ensconce myself in a corner of White’s and no one will know how long I have been there.”
“I will fence, I think,” said Nicholas, lazily stretching. “I’ll give you five minutes to get clear, Fitz.”
Fitz nodded and left.
“You know, Charles,” said Nick, “I’ve seen you flatten a bully, I’ve seen you tie up a thief with one hand and I’ve seen you at the card table stripping a cheat of his winnings without breaking sweat. It is not like you to be plain out of sorts. Is it Miss Bowman?”
“Damn your eyes, Nick.”
“What is the objection?”
“There is no objection, because it will not happen. She is a gentleman’s daughter. I am a working attorney with barely a pound to my name - and will be for many years yet. If I am out of sorts, it is because I am concerned for her reputation.”
Nicholas tossed down the remains of his wine and sauntered towards the door. “I’ll tell you one thing for free, my friend, there are only two options when a woman gets to you. Love ’em or leave ’em.”
Charles rose with an inarticulate growl, but his friend was gone, the door closing behind him. It was probably as well. Nick would almost certainly get the better of him if he followed him to the fencing salon and then he’d never hear the end of it. He’d get some fresh air and walk off his temper instead.
He’d covered a good mile before realising two things simultaneously. One, that he was walking his temper on, not off. And two, that he was within two streets of the Stanhopes’ rout party. With a fatalistic shrug, he continued. If Julia was correct - which she usually was in social matters - the Stanhopes would be too desperate for company to turn away a Mr Congreve, even if he was an attorney by day and only a gentleman in the evenings.
The butler ushered him and another late arrival in without batting an eyelid. Already regretting his impulse, Charles walked into an overheated saloon to the unmistakable strains of a governess playing the introduction to a country dance on the piano. It was, he thought cynically, one way of hanging on to guests for as long as possible. He looked around for Verity - and saw a scene across the room that drove everything else from his mind. An officer was lifting Verity’s hand to his lips in a manner exactly calculated to make any other red-blooded gentleman in the room want to kick him clear across the continent into the nearest war.
Verity drew back. The officer took another step forward.
Rage bubbled in Charles’s veins. He strode across the room, scooping up Verity with a curt apology, and marched her towards the nearest set.
“Charles, you are a complete saviour,” said Verity. “I have never been more glad to see anyone. I am not even going to ask why you are here uninvited.”
“It would be of no use your doing so, for I scarcely know myself,” he muttered. “It was not my intention. Shall we say you are not the only one who has had a trying evening.”
“I am sorry about that, but glad of the result, for if you had not arrived precisely then, I should have been banned from polite society for ever.”
“If he follows us, we might both be,” growled Charles. “Why were you encouraging him?”
“I was not encouraging him!” Verity shook herself free. “He is the most unpleasant individual. What are you doing here, Charles?”
He replaced her hand on his arm. “Rescuing you. Why was he being so gallant?”
Verity’s fingers shook a little. “I do not know. From being happily ignorant of my existence, he is now crowding me beyond anything comfortable. Whatever the reason for the sudden change, I do not like it.”
“He is dead if he comes within ten feet of you,” promised Charles.
“That would certainly add an éclat to Mrs Stanhope’s rout party. I’m sorry, Charles, as you say, it has been a very vexing evening. And now I must smile and dance when I have never felt less inclined.”
Charles was assailed by guilt. “I forgot you are in mourning. I should not have acted so precipitously. Shall I escort you home instead?”
“I daresay you will be glad to after this set. I do not at all mind dancing with you, Charles, but I am too cross to concentrate on the steps. Your feet will be black and blue.” Showing her true mettle, she then smiled prettily, stepped back and curtsied as the piano gave the signal.
Indignant as she was, angry as he was, there was nevertheless much pleasure in partnering Verity. She crossed and re-crossed the first figure with a quick grace that brought forth the best from the others in their set. The touch of her fingers on his when they circled and turned was light and assured. Charles’s wrath ebbed away, soothed by the music and the matching of their steps and the mathematical gratification of the pattern.
“Oh, that was marvellous,” said Miss Stanhope when the music stopped. There was a pink flush in her cheeks and her eyes shone. “I have never danced it so well before.”
“You were wonderful,” said her partner.
Verity met Charles’s eyes. “One task complete,” she murmured. “Do you think we might sit out now?”
“I believe so. What has happened to discompose you, Verity?”
“Lieutenant Neville being irksome, a sense that I am wasting time, Mama...” Someone bumped her shoulder and she glanced around with exasperation. “Why is there nowhere one can have a private conversation?”
“If there were, the rout would no doubt be deemed a disaster. Do you wish to leave?”
“That would be heavenly,” said Verity. “Can it be done without giving offence?”
“Certainly. You are overset with the high quality of the entertainment.”
“How appallingly poor-spirited of me. Let us inform Mama and Godmama, then congratulate Mrs Stanhope on her party and take our leave.”
Charles had to bite his cheek as Verity assured her mother she would be fine by the morning and told her on no account to cut short her own delightful evening. She shook her hostess’s hand, whispered something to Julia as she passed and then they waited in the hallway until her wrap might be found.
Charles was just settling it around her shoulders and asking with a frown why she had not brought her Norwich shawl as better proof against the night air rather than this thin one, when he heard Lieutenant Neville’s unmistakable drawl from the other room.
By the wintry look in Verity’s eyes, she could hear him too. The man must be standing just around the corner of the door.
“It is easy to see how the wind blows in that quarter. Evidently the attorney thinks to get his hands on the money.”
“Home ground, Neville,” said another of the officers. “You can’t deny it’s an advantage.”
“Oh, I don’t know. The thrill of the chase is in the challenge. Anyone care for a wager?”