Chapter 6
Six
Esther was shivering with excitement when she entered The New Club with Minnie.
Although an annoying doubt whispered in her head, in Alexander’s voice.
The way he’d asked her to be careful had cracked something in her chest. He could have forced her to follow him. Instead, he’d let her make her decision. Admittedly, she was diving into a wanton life without preparation. But then again, she wouldn’t go back.
She gasped at the view.
The New Club was a drawing room as wide as St. Paul’s Cathedral with a soaring ceiling and dim lights that couldn’t hide the couples kissing, dancing too closely, or playing cards.
Music sounded from a corner, and it wasn’t the sombre music of a ball, but the lively one of the public houses.
The scent of wax and jasmine teased her senses.
There was also a lot of champagne and not many clothes.
She stood in a corner with Minnie. “My goodness.”
“This is just the beginning.” Minnie removed her cloak, revealing a scandalous gown that hugged her curves and pushed her breasts up. She tugged at the two strings at her waist, and her skirt gathered up, revealing her legs.
The neckline was so low that Esther could see Minnie’s corset.
“My goodness.” She was incapable of saying anything else.
Was she ready for The New Club? Maybe not.
She swallowed hard. “Is this place the reason you don’t like Alexander?”
Minnie scoffed, leading her through the crowd.
“He’s such a prude. He doesn’t touch alcohol because it interferes with his fencing training.
He doesn’t kiss or have tumbles with ladies he doesn’t know or doesn’t have serious intentions with.
He doesn’t touch ladies only for fun. He’s so boring.
And he thinks The New Club is dangerous, only because there were a couple of incidents. Well, maybe more than a couple.”
“What incidents?” She averted her gaze from a couple kissing as if there weren’t enough air in the hall and they had to share it through their mouths.
“A lady was attacked by a drunk man, and another nearly died after she left the club intoxicated and was run over by a carriage.”
“That’s awful.”
“It’s easy to meet the wrong lot here if you aren’t careful. Enjoying yourself has risks.” Minnie stopped walking to glance at her. “This place isn’t for the faint of heart. You should leave now if you have doubts and share a cup of tea with Alexander the Great.”
“I-I think I’ll stay.” She shrank away from a man trying to grab her. “I gather he didn’t want to have fun with you.”
“He didn’t. I’ll admit I insisted a bit, but he’s too prudish for my taste. I told him he was a boring prude and a prig. He said I was reckless and that I should understand when a gentleman isn’t interested.”
“It sounds sensible.”
“I’ll show you what true pleasure is.” Minnie slid a hand in her bodice between her breasts and fished out a glass vial filled with a golden liquid.
“What is it?”
“Something everyone here drinks.” Minnie shook the vial lightly. “Your night is about to become the most exciting one in your life.”
Esther must have been crushed under a boulder because when she blinked her eyes open, she felt heavy and sore. Even her toes ached. Even her toenails ached.
She closed her eyes again and swallowed a couple of times to remove the funny, bitter taste in her mouth. Something soft and scented was under her cheek. Not the pillow in her bedroom. That one smelled of starch and was as soft as a wooden plank.
She forced her eyes open. Something had to be wrong with the sunlight coming from somewhere because it was so strong her eyes hurt. British sun didn’t hurt the eyes. Groaning, she propped herself up and studied her surroundings.
At first, everything was a big, blurred thingamabob. Slowly, the contours of the shapes around her became clear.
She was in a large four-poster bed in a wide bedroom with luscious brocade curtains and brown wainscoting, and it was morning.
Nothing odd about that. Except it wasn’t her bedroom in Minnie’s house, and she wasn’t wearing her nightgown but a male nightshirt that smelled of citrus.
Her hair was down, and her clothes were nowhere to be seen.
A pitcher filled with water rested on the nightstand, and she gulped down a full glass, thinking hard of last night. The more she drank, the more her head cleared, but no answers came.
The last thing she remembered was…dinner. She’d had dinner with Minnie, the dowager, and Mother. After that… She rubbed her forehead. She’d gone out to follow Minnie and met Alexander.
There was a dark alley and a club. Finally, a memory emerged of her and Minnie together in the club where people were kissing and touching each other with no shame. She’d been thrilled but confused. Minnie had given her a vial of something sweet and pungent, and after that…complete darkness.
She drank another glass. The biggest question was, where was she?
Alexander had nothing to reproach himself about.
He’d warned Esther, and she hadn’t listened. And that was the result. The scratches she’d left on his neck stung. But above all, his pride was bruised after she’d stolen his precious foil from him.
In the sunroom overlooking the sea, he finished his tea and glanced upstairs where she was asleep in one of the guest bedrooms.
“Hastings,” he said to his butler, “I need to see Mrs. Wilson.”
“Your Grace.” Hastings walked out of the room with his usual efficiency.
His housekeeper had been in charge of taking care of Esther. He’d told her to call him if something happened during the night after the physician had visited her. And while he was worried about her, he was also eager to find his foil.
“Your Grace.” Mrs. Wilson had a motherly smile that immediately calmed him.
“Lady Esther?”
“She slept through the night, or what was left of it.”
“I’m going to see her. She might need your help later to change.”
“I’ll fetch clean clothes for her.” Mrs. Wilson left.
He went up the stairs at a fast pace but slowed down along the hallway. He should ask Mrs. Wilson to go first, but he needed to see Esther and make sure she was safe. And the matter with her was personal after her wild behaviour.
Before knocking on the door to her bedroom, he listened. A faint noise, like someone coughing and groaning, reached him.
He knocked. “Esther? May I come in?”
No sound.
He inched the door inwards. “Esther?”
She was sitting in the bed with the quilt pulled up to her nose. Her eyes were two large moons the colour of the sky.
“You’re awake.” He walked closer, waiting for her to say something. “I guess you don’t feel too well.”
She didn’t nod or shake her head. As he crossed the room, she followed him with her terrified gaze.
“You’re worrying me.” He leant closer and stared at her.
She didn’t have the wild look from last night, and thank goodness she wasn’t laughing, but she was far from normal.
He slowly lowered the quilt to free her face. “How do you feel?”
She swallowed a few times. “A bit…peculiar.”
“Nausea, headache, soreness?”
“A bit of everything.”
He showed her the bottle the physician had left in the cabinet under the nightstand. “Dr. Jones left this for you.” He uncorked it. “He said it would make you feel better.”
She accepted the bottle with a trembling hand and took a sip. “This is your house, I assume.”
He frowned, not understanding why she was asking. “Yes. You came here last night.” And he was still shocked by her behaviour. “Twice.”
She frowned as well and took another sip.
“I know you’re tired, but where is it?” he asked. “I need it back. What have you done with it?”
She remained petrified. “Where is it what?”
“Please.” He closed his eyes for a moment. She was still playing, then. “I’m tired. I spent a good part of the night searching Brighton. Just tell me what you did with it.”
“I…” She gazed under the quilt.
“It’s not on you. I would know, trust me. The second time you came here, you were half naked.” That had been shocking as well, but not as shocking as her hugging him, dancing with him, and showing him her bloomers.
She blushed a fierce red. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t completely remember what happened last night.”
“Loss of memory. How convenient.” He tried to keep his voice calm, but it was a chore after everything she’d done to him. “We played this game for a while. Now tell me where my épée is?”
She opened her mouth and closed it, gazing around. “I don’t know what an épée is.”
“My foil, my fencing sword. You took it last night and vanished with it.”
“I seriously doubt that.” She let out a nervous chuckle.
“Esther, please. I need my foil. Not to mention, tomorrow’s competition will be my last one. Where is it?”
She drew her eyebrows together. “I’m serious, and I’m not playing any games. I don’t know what you’re talking about. The last thing I remember about last night is Minnie and me at The New Club. That’s all.” She sounded honest.
“So you don’t remember having come here and stolen my foil?”
“No. Why would I ever do that?”
He shrugged. “Maybe for the same reason you came here and kissed me?”
“No, no. Enough. This is a joke.”
He folded his arms over his chest, still hurt about what she’d told him.
“You said I was a boring duke who didn’t know how to enjoy himself.
Then you hugged me and asked me to dance with you, but in your enthusiasm, you scratched me with your sharp nails.
” He lowered his collar to show her the marks left by her quick fingers.
“When I stopped you, you started laughing. Do you remember that? I certainly won’t forget it. ”
Also because he’d wanted to kiss her. Hell, he had. She was a temptress with her large blue eyes and plush lips, and she’d been rather aggressive in the way she’d pursued him. But she hadn’t been herself. He would rather be rejected by her when she was sober than kiss her when she wasn’t.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered. “I have no recollection of last night. But I sincerely apologise for everything I did.”
He cradled his chin, wondering if she was acting. She seemed honest, but then again, she’d seemed honest last night when she’d flung herself to him and started to unbutton his waistcoat. It’d taken a while for him to convince her to stop.
His frustration diminished. She sounded so dejected and humiliated he couldn’t be angry with her. Still, his precious foil was missing.
She lowered the cover, revealing his nightshirt. She covered herself again. “Where are my clothes, and what am I doing here?”
“I don’t know where your clothes are,” he said. “After you came here, kissed me—”
“I’m not sure what to think of that.”
“—and stole my foil, you ran away. I chased you, and after a few hours, I found you in your…” He cleared his throat; visions of Esther in her chemise would haunt him forever.
“…undergarments. A worn, tattered gown, a bit on the large size for you, lay a few feet from you. I was seriously concerned about you. You were lying on the ground, pale and cold and motionless. So I took you here and asked Mrs. Wilson to take care of you. The moment she finished tucking you into bed, you fell asleep. I sent for the physician, who said you were intoxicated, which I could have guessed myself. He gave us a few bottles for you, and here you are. Without my foil, which I desperately need.”
She groaned in frustration and fell back onto the pillow. “I don’t remember anything. I promise. Where’s Minnie?”
“I sent a footman to her house, and apparently she’s there, perfectly fine, sleeping in her bed.”
“How can I explain this to my mother?” She spread out her arms.
“Perhaps you should have thought about that before going to The New Club with Minnie.”
“I don’t need to hear that.”
“And what do you need to hear?” He edged closer. “I warned you about Minnie and The New Club. You get distracted, and terrible things happen to you.”
“I know,” she said in a low voice. “Let’s start by talking with Minnie. She must know everything about last night.”
“How do you feel?”
“Better. That potion helps.”
“Are you strong enough to leave the bed?”
“I want to return the foil to you, and I’m sure talking with Minnie will solve everything. Perhaps she has it.”
He stood up. “Let’s go, then.”
She pressed her lips in a thin line, and even though her expression was one of annoyance, he couldn’t help but notice how her baby blue eyes stood out.
Her golden curls, wild and loose, added a charming touch to her look.
He wouldn’t mind waking up to such a stunning view of her every morning.
He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and see if it was as silky as it looked.
“Is something the matter?” he asked, returning to the present.
Perhaps she was about to cast up her accounts.
She brushed a curl from her face. “I might need clothes not to cause a scandal. Or a new one.”
Personally, he preferred her in his nightshirt. “It might be too late for that, but Mrs. Wilson should have something for you.”
He walked out of the bedroom, rather confused and somewhat less frustrated than when he’d entered to confront her, and he wasn’t sure why.