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‘Do so and I’ll broadcast that you’re a thieving harlot who needs a spell in Newgate to cure her sticky fingers.’
Lily knew that the magistrate would send her to prison, too. She’d been up before the beak just last month on a charge of soliciting and he’d said if he saw her again he’d have her in gaol.
James abruptly hissed at Lily to keep quiet and be still as he noticed Alex Blackthorne frowning his way. He didn’t want anybody—especially not that fellow—poking his nose into what he might be doing arm in arm with a notorious doxy in Hyde Park. Although many gentlemen might be acquainted with some of the rougher women sashaying about, they ignored them until after dark.
Lily followed the direction of James’s eyes and gave a sour chuckle. ‘Bet that fine fellow won’t be taking her into the bushes this afternoon,’ she muttered. ‘He’ll wait for another go at it when they’re alone in the dark at Vauxhall.’
James whipped his attention to Lily. He found it hard to believe the viscount would dally with such as Lily when he could take his pleasure with the beautiful fêted brunette rumoured to be besotted with him. ‘You know Alex Blackthorne?’ he demanded, shaking her arm to hurry her response.
‘No...more’s the pity.’ Lily sighed, giving the viscount a lascivious peek. If such a handsome gentleman showed an interest in her, she’d go very willingly wherever he suggested. ‘But she does,’ Lily added grudgingly. She nodded at Elise.
‘Who do you mean? The taller blonde young lady?’ James demanded, puzzled.
‘Looks like butter wouldn’t melt, doesn’t she?’ Lily sniped. ‘But I saw the two of them coming out of the bushes together at Vauxhall. Wished it had been me in there with him, I did.’
James’s jaw sagged. ‘Are you sure?’
‘’Course I’m sure,’ Lily insisted. ‘I went up to him...but no use...he wasn’t interested.’ She narrowed her eyes on Elise. ‘And I took a good gander at her, too, before she ran off. She’d been poaching on my patch and I promised myself I’d have her guts for garters if she tried it again.’ Lily sensed she had in some way pleased James and she gave him a faltering smile. ‘Was that worth a guinea to you, Mr Whittiker?’
James smiled maliciously. ‘Oh...I think so...’ He let go of Lily’s arm, then gave her a small disdainful shove. ‘Be on your way.’
Lily needed no second telling. She trotted over the grass towards the path, pulling her feathered hat to a jaunty angle.
Chapter Twelve
‘Please stop crying!’ Elise sighed as she stared into the busy street from the bedroom window. Across the road a young housemaid was half-heartedly rebuffing a delivery boy’s raucous advances and vehicles and horses were clattering over cobbles. The cacophony was quite audible through the glass, but Elise was only conscious of the hiccupping sobs coming from the bed behind. She felt sorry for her sister’s dreadful disappointment, but was exasperated with Bea because it had been plain from the start how it all must end.
A few days ago when the gentlemen had brought the young ladies back from their drive in the park Alex and Hugh had departed almost immediately without entering the house.
Mrs Chapman had been dismayed that her offer of tea and biscuits hadn’t been taken up, but it hadn’t been a surprise to Elise when the landau swiftly set off along the road. Hugh and Bea had reappeared for the journey home looking tense and solemn, making the other female passengers quieten in sympathy. Only the viscount had seemed unaffected by the leaden atmosphere.
Straight away Elise had guessed that Hugh had done the decent thing and apologised to Bea for encouraging her to think he might court her when he was actually in no position to do so. Beatrice had confirmed that to be the truth as soon as they had set foot in the Chapmans’ hallway. In a tearful whisper she had imparted that Hugh had honestly admitted he would need to improve his prospects before being able to support a wife.
Beatrice sat up with a sniff and dabbed at her red eyes. ‘Are the others back yet?’
Elise shook her head, turning from the bustling vista below to come and sit down beside Bea on the coverlet. Mrs Chapman had accompanied Verity and Fiona to an afternoon salon at the Clemences’ house. Elise would have liked to go, too, allowing Beatrice to wallow in her miseries, but knew she and her sister must have a serious conversation. It was pointless for them to remain in London as the Chapmans’ guests if Bea were to continue moping about creating a bad atmosphere. It had been several days since their outing to the park, yet yesterday evening Beatrice had again chosen to remain upstairs pining for what might have been rather than join them all at dinner. Their host had noticed her absence and asked if something was amiss despite his wife’s attempts to deflect his concern with mutters and meaningful frowns.
