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

Chapter Seventeen

T he following day on the way to sessions, Ashford looked in at Thorne’s, Cecil by his side.

As they approached the subscription desk, his friend said drily, “After the chilly reception you received last evening, I would think you would want to avoid Lady Charlotte.”

“I’m merely making sure no other sabotage has occurred,” he replied with a frown, automatically looking about the library and seeing no sign of Charlotte or her friends. He noticed several patrons in the shop, which he saw as a good sign the establishment might succeed in staying open.

“Have there been any further problems with the library? Have you seen any more dead mice?” Ashford asked Robbie quietly.

“None at all,” the boy whispered in response.

He blew out a breath. “That is a relief. I’ve spoken to the night watchmen, and now the men are apprised of the events at Thorne’s they assured me they will keep an eye out for trouble.”

Once they were back in the carriage on the way to the Palace of Westminster, Cecil said wryly, “You do know that what is happening at Thorne’s isn’t a personal attack on you.”

“I merely want to thwart this bully James Landry. Have you met the man?”

“Several times,” Cecil replied carelessly. “He will be at my favorite gambling hell tonight. I can introduce you.”

He shouldn’t be surprised that Cecil knew the man. Most of his friend’s spare time was spent tracking members of the Rogue’s Alliance. “I think it is time Mr. Landry and I had a conversation.”

After sessions that evening, Nathaniel declared he had no interest in either gambling or meeting James Landry and took leave of his friends. “Alicia is in for the evening, so I have no chaperone duties. I’m looking forward to a quiet night shut in my study.”

It had been a few years since Ashford had visited a gambling hell. He’d never had much luck at games of chance. Although one could make contacts and hear gossip in the clubs, losing money for recreation was not what he considered an enjoyable pastime.

In his town carriage on the way to the gambling hell, Ashford asked Cecil, “I assume James Landry owns a black snuffbox with the initials RA?”

“He does,” the viscount replied with a nod. “If he didn’t, I wouldn’t be seen anywhere near him.”

The two men hadn’t discussed the sabotage attempt on Regent Bridge since the night it occurred. After the war was over, Cecil had resigned from the Home Office due to a disagreement with his superiors. The viscount had maintained there was more to his brother’s stabbing than mere chance, and the agency chose not to pursue the matter. Although Cecil didn’t share all his activities with Ashford, he knew his friend had become obsessed with trying to find his brother’s killer.

The hell they were to visit was named A Club House, located on Bennet Street in St. James’s. Several people hailed Cecil as the two men entered the establishment.

Ashford said to his friend, “You’re well known here.”

Cecil shrugged but remained silent. Ashford wondered why his friend would gamble if he were really in debt?

The gambling hells Ashford had frequented in the past were dark inside and shabby. A Club House was well lit, the furniture of good quality. He surmised that the proprietor wished to bring in a more fashionable clientele.

Cecil led the way through the large room, nodding civilly to those who addressed him. The viscount stopped in front of a table in the back corner of the room. From the dice on the table, Ashford guessed the game the men seated were playing was Hazard.

A tall, thin man with bright red hair looked up and smiled widely, clearly in his cups. “Lord Wycliffe! Have a seat. It is good to see you. And you’ve brought a friend.”

Cecil returned the smile. “Benedict Grey, Marquess of Ashford, may I present Mr. James Landry.”

“Good evening,” he said politely with a nod, studying the other man.

“A marquess no less, Wycliffe. You travel in exalted circles, my friend.” The man’s slurred speech sounded forced.

Cecil took a seat. “It comes with the territory. Join us, Ashford.”

Ashford was seated beside Cecil, his attention still on Landry. He’d expected a portly florid-faced man smoking a cigarillo.

“Not what you expected, am I? I understand.” Mr. Landry chuckled. “I look too mild-mannered to be a wealthy cit.”

He merely inclined his head as Cecil pulled a money clip from his inner jacket pocket. Ashford repeated the gesture with a sigh. He had wretched luck at dice. How much would it cost him to aid Lady Charlotte and Thorne’s Lending Library?

* * * * *

T wo hours later, Cecil was winning while he was losing heavily. He caught Cecil’s eye and shook his head. Ashford was hungry, and the cigarillo smoke swirling around the room had given him a headache. He’d also surmised that Landry wasn’t drunk at all. The man pretended to be inebriated merely to convince other gamblers his mental faculties were impaired so they would lower their guard.

“I’m done for the evening,” he said loudly over the din in the room and stood up.

“Come, come, Lord Ashford. Your luck might change.” Mr. Landry had won most of his current spoils from Ashford.

“I shall take my leave as well,” Cecil said as he raked in his winnings. “I could use a meal.”

“They serve a delicious cut of beef upstairs,” Landry replied. “Better than the food at those ridiculous clubs you gentlemen frequent.”

Cecil looked to him. When Ashford nodded, his friend said, “We will take you up on that suggestion.”

Although he had no desire to spend more time in the hell, sharing a meal with James Landry would allow Ashford to speak to the man in relative privacy. Once upstairs, they were seated in a room with red drapes, red carpet, and red furniture. He felt suffocated by red.

“And to finish, you must try the butter bread pudding,” Landry suggested as the men ordered their meal from a waiter attired in stark black livery.

The meal was excellent, and the Portuguese wine was a superb vintage.

“You were right about the beef,” he said to Landry as he took a bite of bread pudding. It was delicious.

“Surprised again, Lord Ashford? I like to keep people on their back foot.” The man leaned back in his chair, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

“What is it that you do, Mr. Landry?” he asked idly.

The man squinted at him. “Surely Lord Wycliffe has told you all about me?”

Ashford replied with a twist of his lips, “He mentioned that you’re a grocer and are currently attempting to acquire a large piece of land.”

“Oh yes, I acquire land.” Landry raised a brow. “I think you knew that, Lord Ashford.”

So, the masquerade was over. The man knew why he was at the gambling hell.

Ashford leaned in and said, “I would see it as a personal favor if you would leave Thorne’s Lending Library alone.”

“I don’t do favors.” Landry added in a low voice, “Leastwise, not unless I get something in return.”

“What could I possibly give you in return?” he asked with raised brows.

The man grinned. “A lord. Any lord. I want my daughter to marry into the peerage. I thought Lord Cecil might become my future son-in-law, but he hasn’t come up to scratch.”

Cecil remained silent, merely sipping his wine. Ashford wondered what information his friend thought he could get from Landry. He wanted something from the cit, or he would never spend so much time with a man he would typically loathe on sight.

“You should take some time to think about my proposal, Lord Ashford.” Landry shrugged. “An alliance could be beneficial to us both.”

There was nothing to think about. Ashford would never marry the man’s daughter or press another peer to do so. Was there someone in the peerage desperate enough for funds to marry the daughter of someone in trade? Lord Meers came to mind.

Landry suggested returning to the gaming tables.

“I am all in,” he said to the other man, “but I will give some thought to your proposition.”

Ashford got to his feet, and Cecil followed.

Landry stood up as well and gave Ashford his card. “Send a message in two days.” He paused before adding somberly, “And tell your friend Lady Charlotte to stay out of my business.”

The man turned on his heel and left the room.

Ashford met Cecil’s gaze. What had Lady Charlotte done now?

* * * * *

W hen she arrived at the shop the next day, Charlotte was delighted to see Thorne's running a brisk trade. The front windows of the library were sparkling clean, the curtains open wide to allow bright sunshine into the shop.

She was surprised to see that one of the patrons in the library was Lord Meers.

“How nice to see you again, Lady Charlotte.” The man bowed elegantly.

“A pleasure, Lord Meers.” He wore Bay Rum cologne today, not a particular favorite of hers. She blew out a breath, struggling not to sneeze at the unpleasant scent.

For several minutes they stood together discussing books, and she was pleased to discover Lord Meers didn’t care for Romance of the Forest . Learning that the viscount enjoyed reading made him no more attractive to her. Charlotte did not feel the slightest interest in him as a man.

Before the gentleman took his leave he said, “Perhaps I will see you at the Benson musicale this evening.”

“My brother and I are attending a rout tonight,” she replied with an apologetic smile. “Perhaps we will cross paths at another event.”

Her family hadn’t received an invitation to the musicale. They did receive several other invitations the morning after her appearance at Almack’s.

“Most of today’s correspondence is for you,” her mother said late that morning as she sat in the parlor with Charlotte. Her mother was embroidering a baby blanket for a distant relative while Charlotte read the second volume of Waverly .

“I cannot account for my sudden popularity,” she replied with a sigh.

“I can,” her brother said as he entered the room. William leaned down and kissed their mother on the cheek. “Lord Ashford danced with you at Almack’s and Lady Cair’s ball. As one of the most sought after bachelors in London, his attention toward you has raised your value in the eyes of society.”

Charlotte looked up to see both her mother and brother staring at her. Feeling heat in her cheeks she replied, “The marquess also danced with Miss Tilford at Lady Cair’s ball.”

“Miss Tilford is his friend’s sister. She doesn’t count.” William was now grinning at her.

“Do you have an understanding with Lord Ashford?” her mother asked softly.

“Of course not, Mama,” she replied quickly. “Lord Ashford is also intent on keeping Thorne’s open. He has no interest in me.”

Neither William nor her mother looked convinced by her words. She returned her attention to her book and William announced he had an appointment and excused himself. Her mother continued with her needlework, stealing glances at Charlotte every few minutes. Thankfully, she said no more on the subject of Lord Ashford.

Returning her thoughts to the present, Charlotte took a seat in one of the tub chairs in the lending library. The very idea that her company would be sought after merely because Lord Ashford might find her interesting annoyed her. She was the same person she’d been at the beginning of the season.

“You were quite standoffish with Lord Ashford at the card party. Have you switched your affections from the marquess to Lord Meers?” Edith frowned. She didn’t sound pleased by the possibility.

She sniffed. “Whether I have or had any affection for Lord Ashford, I’ve discovered I am unsuitable as a bride.”

“Unsuitable!” Louisa scowled. “Who would dare think such a thing.”

Charlotte repeated what Alicia had told her about Lord Ashford’s aversion to anyone remotely close to scandal.

“When I left you alone with Lord Ashford at Alicia’s card party, I thought you might apologize to the marquess,” Edith said quietly.

“I was going to,” she replied with a sigh. “He started speaking and something went wrong. Something always goes wrong.”

Edith pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re besotted with each other. You both are just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I don’t think he even likes me,” she responded unhappily, shaking her head.

“Lord Ashford should apologize to Charlotte,” Louisa said grumpily. “How could the marquess be so double-faced when his sister Diana loves to dance as close to disgrace as she can?”

“Have you met his sister Diana?” she asked her friend, unable to keep curiosity at bay.

Louisa shook her head.

Edith replied, “I have. Only once. She is a handsome woman with dark hair like her brother. The lady was engaged to a young man killed in the Napoleonic wars. After her intended’s death, it is said Diana has cared little about her behavior or reputation.”

“How sad,” she said and meant it. It was hard to imagine planning a life with someone and having them die.

“My youngest brother told me why Lord Ashford dislikes Lord Meers.” Louisa continued, “Not only is he a fortune hunter, but he pursued the marquess’s sister relentlessly while the marquess was on the Continent. Lord Meers was quite bold in his attentions, and the lady rebuked him in public.”

Despite the relief she’d felt in discovering Diana was not Ashford’s mistress, Charlotte was still frustrated with the marquess for finding fault with herself. She was dismayed that she still cared what the man thought of her. She cared very much.

* * * * *

A shford sat with his friends in Nathaniel’s study that evening following sessions and a meal at White’s. Alicia was currently attending a ball with Lady Julia and the girl’s mother.

“Have you read the papers today?” the baron asked.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Byron left England on a packet out of Dover on the 25 th .”

“A foregone conclusion,” Cecil replied with a shrug.

He wasn’t surprised. “It was just a matter of time. His numerous affairs brought too much attention to him.”

There was near silence in the room for a few moments save the ticking of the mantle clock and the sound of a log settling in the nearby hearth. As for himself, he was brooding on his conversation with Charlotte at Alicia’s card party. He’d always believed he was a fair man, but his treatment of Charlotte and her brother contradicted that belief. After finding out that the lady had sought out James Landry, he didn’t know what to think. He did know he had to make sure Lady Charlotte and her friends stayed well away from the cit in the future.

Nathaniel sampled the port in his glass before asking him, “Did you find out anything else about Lady Lamb’s book? I imagine Lord Byron will be satirized in the tome.”

“I’ve been preoccupied with other matters,” he replied with a sigh. “I had better get to it. Diana is returning to London soon.”

Cecil said dryly, “As much as one shouldn’t want to be seen there, you may find Lady Lamb at Holland House. It is the only place she appears welcome as of late.”

“Lady Holland is divorced and considered persona non grata.” He shuddered. “My mother might well collapse if she heard I had visited Holland House. I’ve put my reputation in enough peril by socializing with James Landry.”

“Yet another problem to deal with,” Cecil replied while studying the liquid in his glass.

He groaned. “Perhaps I could convince Lord Meers to marry Landry’s daughter.”

“That is an excellent idea,” Nathaniel responded with a grin. “Or that Beaumont chap.”

Despite his past transgressions, Ashford didn’t think William deserved to be tied to a cit’s daughter. He decided there was no advantage in delaying his rejection of James Landry’s proposition. He would send a missive to the man that very night to tell him he was not interested in his proposal.

“Alicia appeared quite taken with Beaumont,” Cecil said idly, watching Nathaniel closely.

“You won’t provoke me,” Nathaniel replied evenly. “My sister assures me she was only attentive to the gentleman because he was a guest in our home. She thinks he talks too much.”

Ashford suppressed a grin at the irony of that statement.

It was past time to find out if Diana was to be in Lady Lamb’s book.

The following day, sessions broke up early. When his coach arrived at Marlborough House, he sent in his card and waited. After a short time, a footman emerged from the mansion and informed Ashford Lady Lamb was at home to callers.

He was deposited in a drawing room. He stood next to a plush sopha and a moment later was joined by Caroline Lamb.

“Lord Ashford! It is indeed a pleasure. I haven’t seen you in an age.”

He supposed that was because her husband was aligned with an opposing political party, and the lady chose to attend entertainments of which Ashford did not approve.

“It has been some time, Lady Lamb. You still look as lovely as always.” Her short curly hair gave her the look of a pixie, her hazel eyes large in her heart-shaped face.

She waved a hand. “Please have a seat. Would you care for refreshment?”

“No, thank you. I will only take a moment of your time.” He waited for the lady to take a seat on a hard backed chair and then proceeded to take a seat on the nearby sopha.

Despite the rumors that Lady Lamb was heavily addicted to laudanum and drink, she appeared lucid and in charge of her faculties. The faint smell of cigarillo smoke wafted to him. Perhaps the lady had also taken up smoking?

“My man said your visit was of some urgency,” she said briskly.

“It is in regards to my sister Diana,” he replied.

The lady pursed her lips. “I haven’t seen Diana for a month at least. She attended a rout at Holland House at the beginning of March. I don’t remember much about the evening. I think I’d had quite too much champagne.”

The lady didn’t remember the event his family had worried over for weeks. He was at a loss for words.

“I feel flat-footed, my lady,” he finally said as he shook his head. “My sister left London for Bath, fearful that she might have offended you in some way that evening.”

Lady Lamb looked surprised by the idea. “As I said, I remember little that happened that night.” For an instant, her expression betrayed the sadness she must feel at Byron’s departure from England. “Diana was a breath of fresh air amongst the jaded company of Holland House. A shoulder to lean on in my time of need, if you will.”

“Forgive my asking, but I must know if she will feature in your upcoming novel?”

For a moment, he was worried he had said too much. The woman’s lips twisted into a near grimace. “Lady Diana has naught to fear. As for the rest of the ton ?” She paused, and her expression became unreadable. “That is yet to be revealed, Lord Ashford.”

Relieved, he got to his feet. “I shall take up no more of your time, my lady. Thank you for reassuring me.”

The lady shrugged listlessly. “It is of no matter. If only I could forget so many events in my life as I’ve forgotten that night at Holland House.”

He knew she spoke of Byron. What could he say? She’d had an open affair for all of society to see. Rumors said the baron fled not only because of his debts but also due to a plethora of other scandalous affairs. Ashford searched for words to comfort her.

“I think it best if we don’t live in the past, my lady,” he said gently, although Lady Lamb appeared lost in reflection. “The future needs all our attention.”