Gayle Wilson – Regency High Society Vol 7: A Reputable Rake / The Heart's Wager / The Venetian's Mistress / The Gambler's Heart (страница 36)
Mr Elliot, who, like Mr Duprey, visited more frequently than before, disclaimed any knowledge of why Sloane avoided Morgana’s company. He said Sloane spent a great deal of time secluded in his library, adding that Sloane seemed irritable at times, snapping at Elliot but apologising afterwards.
Morgana knew precisely why he avoided her. He thought her no more than a harlot, a threat to his desire to be accepted into the
Still, she could not help gazing out of windows, hoping to catch sight of him leaving his house, to see his tall figure striding down the road. Her heart ached for missing him.
She realised the loss of his company had been her fault. He had scolded her for her wildness, but then she’d kissed him as wantonly as any harlot might do. He had lost respect for her, and that was painful indeed.
Why could she not have merely employed the pretty flirtations that gave Hannah such success? Hannah, though her manners were lively, never strayed too far from what was proper. Unlike Morgana.
Even Hannah’s spirits had altered lately, her gaiety forced. Morgana could only suppose that Hannah worried that Sloane would not make an offer after all, although she long had been convinced that Hannah loved the idea of marrying a rich man more than the man himself. Indeed, Hannah seemed to prefer David Sloane to his uncle.
Partly to keep her mind off Sloane, Morgana allowed her girls more outings, all of them wearing hats that obscured their faces. They shopped at the Soho bazaar with money Morgana had given them to buy trinkets. They attended a performance at Astley’s Amphitheatre. Daring indeed, because five lovely young ladies together, even though chaperoned by Miss Moore and escorted by Mr Elliot and Mr Duprey, attracted nearly as much attention as the arena’s spectacular feats of horsemanship. Robert Duprey had also taken them each for rides in Hyde Park.
This morning’s breakfast conversation was all about Mr Duprey.
‘I shall never ride with him again,’ Katy said dramatically. ‘He near enough turned the curricle on its side—’
Katy stared at her.
‘Do stop!’ cried Mary. ‘I think Mr Duprey is quite good at handling the ribbons. I am sure
‘He is a menace!’ Katy shouted. ‘Rose, you must agree.’
Rose, who was chewing a piece of toasted bread, could not respond right away.
Katy did not pause. ‘He near enough—
‘A gentleman, dear,’ said Miss Moore. ‘Not a fellow.’
‘I tell you, I
Mary sprang to her feet. ‘I will not hear Mr Duprey so maligned. He has been nothing but kindness and generosity and all that is proper.’
‘How proper can he be spendin’ all his days with a pack of dolly mops!’ Katy demanded, a bit too loudly to be ladylike.
Morgana massaged her temples. The headache that roused her before dawn still pained her, and the discussion at hand was not helping. ‘Do not call yourself a dolly mop, Katy. You are better than that.’
Katy laughed. ‘Gracious, Miss Hart. We ain’t nothin’ more than fancy dolly mops.’
Morgana sighed. There was no use arguing with Katy. It would only egg her on and make the headache worse. Finishing her now tepid cup of tea, Morgana bade them good morning as an example of ladylike manners, and went in search of Lucy.
It did not take long to find her. She was in the garden pulling weeds. Mr Elliot stood nearby, chatting with her.
‘Good morning, Miss Hart,’ Lucy said, rising to her feet.
Mr Elliot nodded.
Lucy smiled at Morgana. Either the morning air or a blush had put colour in her cheeks. Or had she and Mr Elliot found a private place to be together?
‘I was just telling Mr Elliot the news my mum sent to Amy and me. Did she tell you of it?’
‘No.’ Amy had lately chattered more about her sister, how she feared for Lucy in her new life, how she wished Lucy would content herself with being a maid and forget this notion of being a courtesan.
Morgana sharedAmy’s sentiments. As the days went on, she dreaded more and more the moment she would have to release them into the life she had created for them. Two months ago Morgana had been convinced that she would be providing them with a better life. Now she feared she would only cause them more unhappiness, like the unhappiness she now felt.
‘What was the news, Lucy? No one is ill, I hope.’
‘Nothing like that, miss.’ Lucy glanced to Elliot, who nodded encouragingly. ‘It is the shop next door to my father’s. The button seller. Do you remember about him?’
Morgana was not likely to ever forget. ‘I remember.’
‘Well, my mum said he moved away. Just up and moved. He’s gone.’
Morgana could barely speak. ‘Indeed.’
‘And I was asking Mr Elliot if he thought it could be Mr Sloane’s doing. Do you think so? Mr Elliot says he does not know, but I think Mr Sloane made him go away. Mr Castle has run the shop for ever and his father before him and now it is empty and he’s gone.’
Morgana felt her senses, so dormant of late, come to life. Of course Sloane had been responsible. Like a secret champion, he’d avenged Lucy. Sloane had driven the man off.
‘It does seem odd,’ Morgana managed.
Lucy and Mr Elliot shared smiles, and Morgana felt a wave of envy. Lucy and Elliot had found a steadfast friendship, perhaps more than a friendship, though Morgana dared not ask. Morgana was happy for her even if, at this moment, it made her own loneliness seem more acute.
A voice sounded from the other side of the garden wall. ‘Elliot, where the devil are you?’
Sloane.
He stepped through the gap in the garden wall and caught sight of Morgana. ‘Oh.’
Elliot sprang to attention. ‘Did you have need of me, sir?’
Sloane looked as if he were about to retreat back to his own property. ‘No, just wondered where you were.’
Morgana remained riveted to the spot, but Lucy skipped over to Sloane.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she said with meaning in her voice.
He backed up a step. ‘What for?’
She gave him a worshipful look. ‘For whatever you did to Mr Castle, because he is gone and his shop is closed.’
Morgana watched a muscle in Sloane’s cheek flex. He paused before responding. ‘I am glad of it, Lucy. But do not assume I had anything to do with it.’
‘I know you did, sir,’ Lucy seized his hand and kissed it. ‘And I am grateful to you.’
Sloane glanced over to Morgana, but glanced away as quickly.
‘Perhaps Mr Sloane is busy, Lucy.’ Morgana knew Sloane wished to escape her company.
Cripps stepped out of the doorway. ‘Madame Bisou wishes me to inform you that she has brought you a visitor.’ He looked unusually stern. ‘Miss Harriette Wilson.’
‘Harriette?’ barked Sloane, with a searing glare at Morgana. ‘What the devil is she doing here?’
Morgana was every bit as shocked as he. ‘I have no idea.’
Elliot excused himself, saying he must return to his duties, but Sloane followed Morgana and Lucy into the house.
Miss Wilson sat in the front drawing room wearing a stylish white India muslin gown trimmed in blue satin, with embroidered flounces at the hem and neckline. Her cap, complete with blue and white feathers, matched perfectly. Looking at her, one could only conclude that the life of a courtesan was very lucrative indeed. Mary, Katy and Rose sat gaping at her.
Madame Bisou presented Miss Wilson to Morgana. Her introduction ended with, ‘… and you know Cyprian, I believe.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Miss Wilson responded, giving Sloane a frank look of admiration that made Morgana feel faintly ill. ‘But it has been much too long since you have called upon me, sir.’
Sloane’s expression remained stormy. ‘What are you doing here, Harriette?’
‘I insisted Penny bring me to see this courtesan school.’
Sloane shot Penny a scathing glance.
‘Do not look at me that way, Cyprian. I did not tell her of it.’
He turned his glare to Morgana. ‘If Harriette knows, your activities are no longer a secret.’
‘Not everyone knows, Cyprian, my love!’ Harriette chirped. ‘That odious Fortuna Rice offers a great deal of money to discover this place. But she believes some man runs the school.’ Harriette laughed as if such a notion was ridiculous.
Morgana’s breath caught to hear Mrs Rice’s name. She’d not imagined the girls were still in danger from the woman. It had been weeks since they’d left her.