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‘I cannot enter...I will be thrown out, madame,’ Paulette whispered, scandalised at the very idea of attempting to breach one of those male bastions to pimp for her mistress.
‘Wait outside, then, and ask after him.’ Celia flicked an imperative finger, turning away to find a scrap of paper and a pen. Quickly she wrote her name and address, folded it and handed it to her maid.
‘And his name, madame?’ Paulette asked sarcastically, having looked at the parchment.
Celia pivoted about. ‘Ah...yes...his name is James Whittiker and when you find him you may give him the message that I should like him to call on me at his earliest convenience.’
* * *
Paulette was glad she’d had no need to traipse all the way to St James’s and loiter about accosting gentlemen like a trollop. The butcher’s boy had, after all, known of James Whittiker. The cheeky scamp knew the fellow because his older brother was a tailor’s apprentice and the tailor had been dunning for unpaid goods a certain James Whittiker. He was a little puffed-up fellow who lived on Cranley Street, the boy had told her. That information had made Paulette frown. Her madame liked distinguished gentlemen with plenty of money. It was a mystery to Paulette why she would be interested in a debtor living in a seedy district.
Paulette alighted from the cab, paid the driver then huddled into her cloak. She stood at the top of Cranley Street outside a pawnbroker’s shop, glowering and muttering to herself a promise that on the morrow she would go to the agency and seek a new position once she’d found this ugly fat fellow called Whittiker.
* * *
Celia covered her naked body with a silk robe, then slid off the crumpled bed. She walked away without a glance at the snoring fellow. Once she had washed and dressed she would wake him and eject him from her house. He had served his purpose; she now knew where Alex was to be found. She pivoted about, knotting the silk belt about her waist. With mild disgust she eyed James’s flabby torso displayed beneath crumpled sheets. His short soft body was nothing like Alex’s big, hard physique. The contrast in their looks and wealth made her ever more determined to get back the life she’d had. But bedding Whittiker hadn’t been such an ordeal; he had little stamina and the wine he’d drunk had quickly sent him to sleep after a thankfully brief performance. She had endured worse in the four years since she’d started her career as a courtesan. But Celia knew that she’d never improve on a gentleman like Alex and that was why she was not going to let him slip between her fingers...
* * *
‘I’ve heard that the Red Lion cater for parties. I’m sure they would gladly provide a small wedding breakfast.’ Colin grinned at Alex. ‘Would you like me to enquire and make arrangements?’ He thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘As you’ve done me the honour of asking me to be your groomsman, I feel I ought to make myself useful before the big day.’
‘I’ve already enquired,’ Alex replied. ‘The landlord is setting aside two rooms and will do his best to supply us with a good spread at short notice.’
The two men had met by chance in St Albans. Colin had been about to visit the apothecary shop when he’d seen Alex’s tall figure striding along the street towards his sleek vehicle. He’d quickly diverted to speak to him before he could spring into his curricle and race off.
‘You’re a lucky man,’ Colin congratulated gruffly. ‘I’ve not known the family very long, but have found them very nice people.’
‘I feel blessed to have Elise, but wish circumstances had been different so she might have had the celebration she deserves.’
‘Sometimes spontaneity can be a good thing,’ Colin murmured, looking thoughtful.
‘Indeed...’ Alex encouraged with a private smile. ‘A man should follow his instinct. You are not long in the area, then?’ he asked.
‘A matter of months only, but I think I shall like it here.’
‘I’m sure you shall.’ In Alex’s opinion it was obvious to all but a blind man that, short acquaintance or no, Beatrice Dewey liked the doctor and he was equally under her spell. Alex was glad Elise’s sister seemed to have quickly recovered from her ill-starred romance. Despite understanding Hugh’s predicament, he’d been annoyed to discover that his friend had started squiring the elder Chapman girl about town with indecent speed following Beatrice’s departure.
‘I must get going. I have to purchase a wedding ring for Elise.’ Alex sprang aboard his carriage, aware of the day passing.
