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It had been an unsatisfactory evening, he thought. If Debenham had invited him to a tavern where they might have talked, he’d have gone. But the last thing he felt like was a nunnery where there was every chance he might be recognized, or even greeted by young Dorcas.
No, Maggie Montgomery’s and, in fact, brothels in general made him feel ill.
But Debenham was not to be denied. “An hour’s bedroom sport at Maggie’s, and then a chop house to round off the evening. Surely you couldn’t think of anything better, Silverton? Come! I won’t take no for an answer.”
Silverton went, but not to take advantage of the bedroom sport.
As he and Debenham were ushered into the reception room at Maggie’s, which was lined with crimson paper upon the walls, gold trimmings, and tasseled ruby velvet curtains, he was discomposed to discover Lord Anstey sipping port with a buxom blonde in a dimly-lit corner.
As Anstey was the husband of the discontented Lady Anstey, with whom Silverton had enjoyed an initially torrid but ultimately lackluster affair the previous year, he had no appetite to converse with the gentleman whose failings Lady Anstey had outlined to him in such minute detail.
Hoping to slip away unnoticed once he saw Debenham engaged by a red-headed beauty, Silverton decided on impulse to seek an interview with the venerable Madame Abbess, and was soon sipping absinthe in her private parlor, and wondering why he hadn’t chosen this path before.
A large painting of the Prince Regent hung on the wall behind her, flanked by various heroes, including the late Vice Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson, who’d achieved legendary status among the populace during his final victory at the Battle of Trafalgar, but who was a hero in Kitty’s eyes, he recalled, for other reasons. Lord Nelson had also achieved fame and notoriety for his affair with the low-born Emma Hamilton, who’d been elevated to the peerage through her marriage to Lord Hamilton, British Envoy to Naples before she’d been swept away by the heroic charms of Lord
Nelson.
He sighed to think that Kitty’s dream of similar elevation or as she termed it, simple respectability through marriage, to Lord Nash, was only a pipe dream. Nash would tire of her, and then Silverton would be waiting to restore her faith in men. It was the best he could hope for, he thought dismally, as the over-nourished, beady-eyed Maggie Montgomery thrust out her ample bosom and simpered above her raised glass. “What a great pleasure to enjoy your patronage, Lord Silverton. You are not a regular, and I’m wondering if you are perhaps here to suggest a certain entertainment we fail to provide you.” She patted what he was certain was a red, squirrel hairpiece above her right temple, and Silverton felt a nudge of disgust at her suggestive smile.
The girls at Maggie’s were known for their broad repertoire. Debenham had told him of the enjoyment he had had with blindfolds and leather whips in the soundproof basement, and immediately Silverton’s thoughts had turned to innocent Dorcas. He was relieved when Debenham said it was only the bolder girls who were paid more.
“No, Mrs. Montgomery, it is, in fact, my desire to know the price of breaking a girl’s contract. There is one in particular I should take away from here and to set up.”
“Oh my, Lord Silverton, you are full of surprises. We hardly see you here, and next thing you want the full package. Which girl do you want?”
“Dorcas.”
“Dorcas!” Clearly, she was much astonished. She clasped her jeweled-ring-encrusted fingers, her expression suggesting surprise had got the better of her.
“Yes, you surely must have a figure to hand you can name?” Silverton prodded.
Mrs. Montgomery smiled unctuously. “I shall be delighted to come up with one, my Lord, once I’ve ascertained from Dorcas her eagerness in being set up with you.” Her smile became playful. “After all, my girls’ happiness is my chief concern.”
Disappointed at the lack of progress, Silverton rose. He felt it best not to press her, and bowed from the doorway. “In that case, I look forward to hearing back from you, Mrs. Montgomery. Perhaps you’d be good enough to communicate your response by messenger tomorrow.”
“Oh, I am sure we can find a price that is quite acceptable to all parties,” she assured him.
“I do hope so, Madam.” He’d not wanted to appear too eager, having no doubt Mrs. Montgomery knew how to exact her pound of flesh. While Silverton was prepared to pay a good deal to secure the happiness of the lovely Kitty, if it aided his chances of winning more than just her gratitude some day, he also didn’t want to be taken for a mug.
He did not see Lord Debenham pause at the end of the corridor, and his thoughtful look as Silverton disappeared before he, too, rapped softly upon Mrs. Montgomery’s door.
And he was greatly dismayed—and, quite frankly, astonished—to receive a missive from Mrs. Montgomery expressing regret that Dorcas was too happy in her current situation to wish to avail herself of Lord Silverton’s kind offer.
Chapter Eighteen
Araminta farewelled Teddy with real tears in her eyes, but with a heart full of hope that everything she could ever desire would be attained through his good offices. Only he held the key to her happiness. She knew this now, just as she knew it was too dangerous to allow him to prolong his stay, even if it was balm to her soul to feel his adoring gaze upon her.
The temptation to let him hold her, in passionate despair that he had lost her to Debenham, might result in discovery, but denial now might augment her rewards later. Araminta fully intended to milk his ardor when the time was right.
But the time was not yet right, and Araminta, left alone at The Grange, railed in frustration. At least Teddy could return to London and do what she’d entreated him so artfully to do for her. Meanwhile, she’d just received a note from Mrs. Mobbs that she and her ‘young lady’ had taken up residence with the nearby kindly farmer and his wife, and that the midwife had given a good report on the health of the mother-to-be. Araminta simply had to orchestrate a means of leaving the house at the right time on some worthy mission, attended by Jane in the carriage.
Any day now, she was told. Any minute, which Jane now backed up, coming into the room with a cheery, “Not much longa ter ‘ave ter wait, starin’ at sunrises and sunsets an’ waitin’ for summat to ‘appen,” Jane remarked, coming into the room as Araminta, with her elbows on the windowsill, sadly gazed at the last of the riders as they disappeared over the hill. “Reckon poor Lord Ludbridge will miss yer. Pity yer didn’t marry ‘im. ‘E’d a bin a good ‘usband.”
“I would have married him if he hadn’t had such a lofty sense of right and wrong.” Araminta dragged her gaze from the window and looked at her maid. “Well, he can put that to good use now and do what’s right by me, finally.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Consider yourself lucky, for you’d not have had Jem working in the same household if I’d married Lord Ludbridge.”
“True, m’lady.”
Araminta raised an eyebrow. “That was a forlorn response. Things not going so well between you and Jem?” It didn’t surprise her. Jane was as plain as a pikestaff, while Jem was a dashing and extremely handsome valet not to mention an extraordinarily good kisser, as Araminta had been forced to find out in order to lay claim to the letter that had incriminated Debenham before she’d burned it that fateful night at Vauxhall Gardens. Well, she’d been so sure she’d burned it, but now Teddy was on the case to find out and help her, if necessary.
