Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library (The Rogue’s Alliance #1)

Chapter Two

O ne day earlier

Thorne’s Lending Library in Berkeley Square was the favorite haunt of Charlotte, Louisa, and Edith. The trio of young ladies thought of the establishment as ‘their place.’ A haven where they could meet every week and discuss books, their families, and their individual interests. Interests which weren’t always activities the ton would look upon as befitting of a young lady’s notice.

Charlotte put aside the first volume of Ann Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho as she found she couldn’t concentrate on the story. The tone of the novel was far too brooding. Her gaze wandered around the room.

She noted the library wasn’t as busy as she was accustomed to seeing. “There are few patrons this afternoon. The last fortnight has been uncommonly slow for the shop.”

“I think you may be right,” Edith replied with a frown, looking about her.

“Ackermann’s has included the color pink as one of this month’s fashionable colors,” Louisa remarked, her attention on the periodical in her hands. “I abhor pink.”

“Louisa, we are discussing the lack of custom recently in Thorne’s,” Charlotte responded with an exaggerated sigh.

The young women sat in a tiny alcove in the back left corner of the shop. The seating arrangements consisted of a plush sopha, a low round table, and two stuffed chairs.

“From all accounts, Hookham’s Library is the current fashionable spot for seeing and being seen,” Louisa said distractedly, not looking up from her copy of Ackermann’s Repository. Several issues of the periodical were scattered across the scarred mahogany table.

“Hookham’s?” Incredulous, Charlotte pursed her lips a moment. “What does Hookham’s have that our dear Thorne’s doesn’t?”

Louisa closed the magazine and settled it on her lap. Looking up, she asked, “Have you visited Hookham’s?”

“Only once.” Charlotte sniffed. “It is much too big. Thorne’s is cozy. We receive excellent service here.”

“Mr. Thorne is a pleasant enough man.” Edith added quietly, “Although Mrs. Thorne blows hot and cold.”

Charlotte had to admit Edith was right about Mrs. Thorne. While Mr. Thorne was all that was kind, Mrs. Thorne was often gruff and stand-offish.

“Mr. Thorne is a dear, but neither he nor his wife has the faintest idea how the shop should be furnished. Look closely at the sopha you’re seated on, Charlotte. The upholstery is not only worn, but it is also an exceedingly ugly color. Puce is no longer a fashionable hue for textiles.” Louisa waved a languid hand toward the front of the shop. “And the curtains at the front windows are neither new nor very stylish.”

She had to concede that Louisa made a good point. Her friend had exquisite taste when it came to fashion and decorations in the home. Charlotte had thought the furnishings quaint and cozy. Now she looked at the pieces with a fresh eye and had to admit they were not of the first stare of fashion.

Louisa sneezed. “The shop could also use a good dusting. That can only help with trade.”

“I’ve seen Medusa Library advertise in the papers,” Edith said thoughtfully. She was a devotee of the daily news sheets, her interests being current events and politics. “Perhaps Mr. Thorne should promote the shop.”

Charlotte got to her feet. “That is a splendid idea, Edith. I will suggest it to him right now.”

Louisa merely shrugged and reopened her periodical while Edith looked through the stack of newspapers on the table before her.

Mr. Thorne stood behind the sales desk on the right side of the room. His only clerk, Robbie, was usually posted at the subscription desk on the left side of the shop. The boy was nowhere in sight. Mrs. Thorne was frequently in the backroom as she was not easy with customers and chose to see to the bookkeeping.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Thorne,” she said brightly to the short, bespectacled man.

“Good afternoon, Lady Charlotte.” The shopkeeper nodded to her and smiled. “May I be of service?”

“Have you thought of promoting Thorne’s Lending Library in the papers?” she asked casually. “Lady Edith tells me Medusa advertises.”

A grimace wrinkled the man’s normally jovial features. “You’ve noticed our lack of customers recently.”

“I admit I did,” she replied awkwardly.

“Mrs. Thorne declares that we can scarcely afford to keep the library open. She will not approve expenditures for advertising.” He added despondently when she merely gaped at him, “It’s that bad it is, my lady.”

Charlotte was struck dumb for a moment. Her beloved Thorne’s could not be in danger of closing; she simply would not allow it.

“Is that why Robbie isn’t here today? You’ve had to let him go?” she asked with concern in her voice.

“He went to the apothecary to fill a script for his mother,” Mr. Thorne replied. “I allow him the odd hour or two every week to take care of his family.”

She murmured vague words of support. As she returned to her friends in their little nook, a wagon could be heard rumbling past in the street outside. Gunter’s Tea Shop was nearby. Perhaps the vehicle delivered ice to the confectioner’s store.

“Are you all right?” Edith asked when Charlotte retook her seat. “You look pale.”

“Thorne’s may have to close,” she replied starkly.

There was a short silence. The bell over the door jingled, startling them all, and a female customer entered the shop. The woman proceeded to speak with Mr. Thorne.

“What about Robbie?” Edith asked with a frown. “He needs this job to help support his family. Where is he today? I do hope he hasn’t lost his position.”

“Mr. Thorne told me Robbie is visiting the apothecary on his mother’s behalf,” Charlotte replied soothingly. “I think it best we don’t tell him the shop might close. Of course, he may already know.”

“Robbie has enough to worry about with five siblings to feed,” Louisa said, for once, compassion evident in her voice. She looked up from her magazine and frowned. “Thorne’s can’t close. It may not be the most fashionable place in London, but it is our place.”

Charlotte was pleased Louisa shared her distress. Edith was passionate about her newspapers and politics, Louisa about magazines and decorating, and Charlotte adored books. Thorne’s was the next best thing to having her own private library.

The three women never spoke of it, but they weren’t considered great beauties. Charlotte liked to tell herself she should try harder to be sweet and biddable to attract a gentleman. She simply didn’t have any interest in doing so. Her childhood friend Louisa agreed, and the women had become friends with Edith at the beginning of the season due to her likeness of mind. The lending library was a place Charlotte felt comfortable being herself, a place far removed from the critical eyes of the marriage mart.

She blew out a breath. “We simply must make Thorne’s more fashionable.”

Edith nodded with vigor, her golden curls dancing with the movement.

Louisa raised a winged brow. “How do you propose we do that, Charlotte?”

“There are a hundred things we can do to help bring more customers to Thorne’s,” she responded, hoping some ideas would come to mind. And quickly.

“Such as?” Louisa pressed.

Charlotte hesitated a moment before she began to tick off points on her fingers as she said, “Louisa, you have excellent taste in decorating, you can make the interior of the shop look more presentable. Since Edith is the most tactful of the three of us, she can speak with Mrs. Thorne about advertising in the papers and behaving in a friendlier fashion toward patrons. I will find an influential person to tell others about Thorne’s and research what makes a place exclusive.”

“What influential person do you have in mind?” Edith asked.

Charlotte found herself stuck for a name. After a moment’s thought, she replied, “Lady Cairs! We’re attending her ball tomorrow. I have always been a favorite of the matron as I believe she had a tendre for my father years ago. If a grande dame of the ton recommends Thorne’s, that will surely carry some weight with others.”

“And how do you plan to research the exclusivity of an establishment?” Louisa asked as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Louisa’s rampant skepticism didn’t usually irritate Charlotte as it was frequently directed elsewhere.

“What place in London is exclusive?” she asked more to herself than to her friends.

“White’s!” Louisa answered with a groan. “My brothers are members of Boodle’s, and they loathe hearing about the bow window set.”

“Then I shall take a peek inside White’s,” Charlotte responded with false bravado. “To find out what is so special about the window.”

Edith put a hand to her breast. “Charlotte! You cannot be serious. Ladies aren’t allowed on St. James’s Street.”

As for Louisa, she appeared to be at a loss for words.

“I will disguise myself. Dress like a man and get as close to the club as I can,” Charlotte replied, her head held high. “I will only need a few minutes to look in the bow window.”

Louisa gave a weary sigh in response. “I know you too well, my friend. You will never rest until you have attempted to see inside White’s. To keep you out of too much trouble, I will help you with your plan.”

* * * * *

W hen Ashford returned to the coffee room in White’s, he told Cecil of his suspicions about the person standing outside White’s being a debutante of the ton . His friend proceeded to laugh out loud.

Cecil cocked his head and said, “You miss the intrigue of the Foreign Office so much you see duplicity everywhere.”

Ashford thought his friend’s comment a bit rich as Cecil was convinced half of London were members of the infamous Rogues Alliance, a band of organized criminals known to be active throughout the city.

“Even a former member of the Home Office such as yourself would have seen through her flimsy disguise and discovered that she was a female and a member of the peerage,” he replied with a grin. “Nathaniel mentioned he was being coerced into escorting his sister to Lady Cairs ball this evening. I think I shall go along to see if I can root out my vagrant.”

Ashford assumed there was an invitation to Lady Cairs’s ball in the stack of correspondence on the letter tray in his study. He was an eligible bachelor, after all. Anyone who attended one of the lady’s entertainments would expect a parade of unmarried misses to be in attendance as Lady Cairs was a notorious matchmaker.

Cecil adjusted one of his cuffs as he responded, “Perhaps I shall accompany you merely to placate my mother. She has been upset with me of late, disappointed that the London papers have no mention of me in the society pages. If I attend a ball, I might be back in her good graces for a while.”

He responded with a bark of laughter. “Your mother wants you married. That and nothing else will make her happy.”

“David married far too young and ruined my life,” Cecil replied, his expression bleak for a moment at the mention of his only surviving brother. “The boy is barely twenty-two and already has a child on the way.”

“And we are nearing the age of thirty with no prospects in sight.”

“None wanted,” Cecil rejoined with a shudder.

The man took a sip of coffee, his features now a blank mask. Cecil’s older brother had been murdered by footpaths three years ago, and the pain of their loss had nearly torn his family apart. Cecil was sure his brother’s death was connected to the alliance.

“If my urchin is nowhere to be seen at the ball, you may spend the next several days crowing over my folly,” Ashford said lightly into the awkward silence, hoping to distract his friend from sad memories.

Cecil’s expression suddenly appeared more cheerful. He nodded. “I am so sure that you will not see your mysterious lady that I will accompany you to the ball.”

Another benefit of attending the event would be to listen for chatter about Lady Lamb’s forthcoming book. She was keeping the details close to her chest. The woman had a sharp tongue and held a grudge. Who might the lady ridicule in her upcoming tome?

Diana was currently in Bath. He hoped she would remain there for some time and stay out of the gossip sheets. After the season was over, he would do his best to convince her to retire to the countryside for an extended period.