Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
A Shocking Revelation
The day after I was lectured by Cosmos, matters at Rosehaven House had almost returned to normal.
He was ensconced in his study, writing enthusiastically about the properties of some plant I had never heard of, though he assured anyone who would listen that it was a revolutionary discovery.
The children were in their classroom; Chrissie was in the music room playing lighthearted airs on the pianoforte; and the servants were going about their duties, some of them humming along.
In later days, I would think of that morning as the calm before the storm.
Not that I was calm. I was anything but.
The night before, I had received a note from Steele.
R,
Have much to report. Too sensitive to write down. I have been barred from Rosehaven House. Please come to me when you can.
—S
He had been barred by Cosmos. The nerve of him.
It was a clever maneuver, I would grant him that. Cosmos had declared he would not stop me, so he had chosen to stop Steele instead.
My first thought had been to slip out after dark, once the square was quiet and the household asleep. But the image of Petunia waking in the night and coming to my room only to find it empty stopped me cold. I could not do that again. Not to her. Not to my family.
It would have to be done in full daylight.
Which was why, after breakfast, I returned to my bedchamber and asked Tilly to help me change into something suitable for calling.
She had nearly finished arranging my hair when a knock sounded at the door. One of the maids stood outside.
“Lady Claire has arrived, my lady.”
That was odd. She usually waited until teatime to make her appearances.
“She wants to see me?”
“Yes, my lady,” the maid said with a bob. “If you please.”
“Very well,” I said. “I will be down in a moment. Have her shown to the morning room.” We would be more private there than in the drawing room.
Fifteen minutes later, I joined Claire, who was pacing up and down the space. Her expression told me at once this was no social call. When she declined tea, my unease deepened.
“Is something wrong?” I asked. It could not be Cosmos. He was still shut away in his study.
“It’s about what you’re investigating with Steele. Cosmos shared some of it with me.”
I took a deep breath. “He shouldn’t have. He should have kept it private between us.”
“I’m not here to condemn your actions, Rosalynd. On the contrary. I think what you’re doing is admirable.”
Before Claire had become involved with Cosmos, she and I had been close friends. But then she’d turned her considerable wiles on my brother, and our friendship had become strained. Only recently had I come to realize it was more than a mere attraction on her part. She genuinely cared for him.
“Thank you. That means a great deal to me.” I glanced toward the door. “I’m on my way to see him now, as he has news. So, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Wait,” Claire said. “I have something to share that may inform your investigation.”
I waited. There was nothing else to be done.
“There is a lady we both know. I won’t reveal her name,” Claire said, taking a seat on the sofa. “She moves in…unusual circles.”
I joined her on the seat. “What sort of circles?”
“The sort that exist beyond respectable society.” She drew a breath. “There is no delicate way to say this. She exerts control over men. She uses her power to inflict pain. It’s consensual on both sides,” she rushed to say. “She is what is known as a dominatrix.”
I frowned. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I feared as much,” she said with a sigh. “Have you heard of the Marquis de Sade?”
“Must be a French aristocrat. But no, I don’t recognize the name.”
“He was infamous for cruelty. Especially toward women.”
My breath hitched. “I am listening.”
“The word sadism derives from his name. Some people seek these…arrangements willingly. There are two roles. One who inflicts pain. One who submits to it.”
“And this woman?” I asked.
“She inflicts it,” Claire said quietly. “She commands. Men defer to her. She sets rules, controls access, and enforces obedience.”
That sharpened my attention.
“What is the other party called?”
“A submissive,” Claire said. “She doesn’t play that role. She never has.”
“Where do these activities take place?” I asked. “Surely not in her home.”
“There are…establishments around London that cater to them. And lately she has attended gatherings at a well-appointed house east of London.” Claire’s voice tightened.
“She believed them to be consensual. But at the one held last month, she discovered some of the women, young girls no older than seventeen, were not there of their own free will. They were brought out and put on display, some of them weeping openly, while the men bid on them.”
I forced back the bile that rose in my throat and willed my thoughts to the vanished women. This place, this house east of London, was where they’d been taken to satisfy the perversions of wealthy and titled men.
“As soon as she realized it, she walked out,” Claire continued, “and made her way back to London. She will not be attending any more of these gatherings. She will be departing for the continent in the morning and will not return for several months. But an invitation will still be issued to her as she has not made her intentions known.”
“When is the next one?” I asked.
“Tomorrow night. The meeting point is a barge. Somewhere on the Thames. It will take the women to the location where this…gathering is held.”
“Where exactly?”
Claire shook her head. “The guests are not told the location until the afternoon of the event. It will be included with the invitation.”
“They’ve already killed at least two young women, Claire. Their bodies were found in the Thames. I saw one of them yesterday in a mortuary before dawn. She had been whipped.”
“Dear heaven,” Claire breathed, clutching her hands. “You must stop this. You and Steele.”
“We intend to,” I said. “Steele probably already knows about this “gathering.” That’s the news he must have. But he could not put it into writing. He sent word last night asking me to come to him.”
She proceeded to share more details about the gathering, something we would need to know. “Tell him what I shared with you,” Claire urged, pressing my hands. “There is no time to waste.”
A thought suddenly struck me. “Your friend. Does she need to show her invitation to board the barge?”
“No. Only the men are required to do so. The only thing women are required to provide is their assumed names. They wear masks to disguise themselves. And they board a separate barge from the men.”
“What is her assumed name?”
“Delilah,” Claire said. “Now go. There’s no time to delay.”
At that moment, the door opened, and Cosmos entered the room.
“Claire,” he said with a polite bow. “I heard you were here. Our appointment is not until this evening.”
“I came to see Rosalynd,” Claire replied calmly. “There was something I wished to share with her.”
His gaze sharpened. “About what?”
“A private matter.”
His brow lifted, but he said nothing before turning to me.
“Are you going somewhere?”
“Yes. To see Steele.”
His expression turned thunderous. “In broad daylight? For all of Grosvenor Square to witness?”
I smoothed my gloves. “That is correct.”
“Are you certain that is what you wish to do?” He bit out.
“I am more certain of this than I have been of anything in my entire life,” I said. “If Petunia, or any other member of the family, comes looking for me, tell them where I have gone.”
As I swept from the room, he turned to Claire.
“Do you have anything to do with this madness?”
“Partly,” she replied calmly. “And I would do it again.”
Crossing Grosvenor Square in full daylight was an act that could not be mistaken for an accident.
The late morning was mild, the square alive with its familiar rhythm.
Nannies pushed perambulators along the gravel paths, their charges bundled and pink-cheeked.
Children darted between the trees, laughter rising above the hum of polite conversation.
Ladies strolled arm in arm, parasols tilted just so, pausing to exchange news meant to be shared and gossip meant to be weighed.
And then there was me.
Unaccompanied. No maid at my elbow. No chaperone hovering with dutiful concern. I felt the shift almost at once, the subtle turning of heads, the brief hesitation in conversation as I stepped onto the path and crossed the square.
I did not hurry.
If I were to be seen, then I would be seen properly.
“Good morning, Lady Rosalynd,” called Mrs. Hargreaves from her customary bench, where she sat like a fixture, observing the square as though it were her personal domain.
“Good morning,” I replied, inclining my head.
Her companion, Mrs. Bellamy, peered at me over the rim of her spectacles. “Out on your own today, my dear?”
“I am,” I said pleasantly.
Their eyes followed me as I moved on. I could feel them weighing every step, every choice. By teatime, they would have a story fit for generous retelling. Lady Rosalynd Rosehaven, crossing the square alone without so much as a maid to guard her reputation.
Let them talk.
Each footstep carried me farther from the safety of habit and closer to something that could not be undone. By evening, my name would be spoken with raised brows and lowered voices. The judgment would be passed, repeated, and embellished long before I returned home.
I reached the steps of Steele House and mounted them without haste.
At the top, I paused and turned.
Across Grosvenor Square, the morning had stilled.
Conversations faltered. A child stood forgotten beside a hoop.
More than one parasol hung at an odd angle, abandoned mid-gesture.
Faces were turned toward me, unmistakably so, astonishment written plainly across them.
A few mouths had fallen open. Others had already begun to form words.
They were witnessing it. All of it.
Lady Rosalynd Rosehaven standing at the Duke of Steele’s door in broad daylight without so much as a maid.
By teatime, there would be no softening it. No charitable interpretation. The scandal would be complete.
I allowed them a proper look. And then I turned back to the door, lifted my hand with steady purpose, and knocked.