There was a little confusion as to who should hand who into the car. I tried to push Crispin in first, since I was technically the one in the top hat and he was the one in the gown. But he was adamant that he was driving—I would get behind the wheel of his beloved Hispano-Suiza over his cold, dead body; as if I could have done a worse job than he did of the Ballot—and since he hardly seemed inebriated at all any more, I acquiesced. In return, he allowed me to bow him into the car first and then go around and open my own door.
“So where are we headed?” I asked when he had started the motorcar with a roar of the engine and we were rolling away from Evans and the Essex House Mansions.
He smirked. “Tottenham Court Road. Rectors.”
“The nightclub?” I wrinkled my brows and felt the top hat slip down my forehead. “That isn’t open anymore, is it?”
He shook his head, focused on slotting the motorcar into traffic. “It was shut down for twelve months two years ago, for violating the liquor laws. But Mitchell is bankrupt and can’t get it open again. I guess he’s trying to salvage what he can.”
“By opening it up to Lady Austin’s crowd?” Wasn’t that adding insult to injury, in the form of a violation of the buggery laws on top of everything else?
Crispin merely shrugged, and I added, “Have you been there before?”
He slanted me a look. “To Rectors? Once or twice. I was still at Cambridge for most of the time that they were open.”
“You had better hope we don’t run into any of your regular set this evening,” I told him. “You make for a passably pretty girl, St George, but I’d hate to think what Lady Laetitia and her ilk would think to see you now.”
He smirked. “She already knows I have hair on my chest, Darling.”
“Ugh,” I said. “Really, St George? Must you remind me?”
“I didn’t realize my chest was so abhorrent to you, Darling.”
“Not your chest,” I said, irritated, “although I can do without that, too. But must you keep reminding me what a deplorable excuse for a human being you are? I’ve managed to spend almost an hour with you, and neither of us has tried to murder the other. We’re practically getting along. Must you ruin it by reminding me of all the things I don’t like about you?”
“My apologies, Darling.” He managed a semi-acceptable bow, not easy to do while navigating a fast car along a busy road. “I forget how much my person offends you.”
“It’s not your person, St George!” I banged my fists against my knees for emphasis. He looked down and then up again, quickly, his cheeks pink.
I added, “It’s your behavior. It’s the string of women you’ve apparently taken to bed with no more care than you’d have had in taking them to tea at Selfridges. It’s the girl with the baby, and it’s Johanna in the garden maze and Lady Laetitia in the parlor and Flossie Schlomsky in the lift this evening.”
He winced. “Darling?—”
“I understand that you’re in love, St George, and I’m sorry that your father won’t let you marry her.” Whoever she was. I didn’t know who he fancied himself in love with, and I didn’t—I told myself firmly—care.
“Darling—”
“But your behavior is deplorable. You cannot keep doing this to your family, not to mention to all those women, just because you can’t have the one woman you want. It’s unjust, and unkind, and… and…”
“Unseemly?” Crispin suggested dryly. “Unsavory? Untoward?”
“Yes! Not to mention indecent, inappropriate, and improper!”
He nodded. “As you say, Darling. We’ve arrived.”
I blinked. “Pardon me?”
“We’re here.” He gestured around us, to the now-stationary motorcar and the parking attendant who was attempting to take it from us. “This car park is a block away from Rectors. We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”
“Oh,” I said, flushing. “I’m sorry.”
“As you should be.” He removed himself from behind the wheel and handed a coin to the attendant. “Keep her in a handy spot, Giles, if you please. I don’t know how long we’ll be staying or how quickly we’ll need to make our getaway.”
Giles touched a finger to the brim of his cap. “Right you are, your lordship. I’ll keep’er by the door.”
“Thank you, Giles.” He nodded to me. “Ready, Darling?”
I was, although I had honestly expected him to come around to my side of the motorcar to open the door for me. Now I did it myself instead. “Ready.”
