Chapter 19
For two days Padua thought about the things her father had said to Ives.
He claimed he had been coerced to store that bad money in his chambers.
The men who did it knew about the brothel.
He logically guessed they had something to do with the brothel, or else they would not have known of his connections to it.
The obvious suspect was Mrs. Lavender. Eva had proof the woman was at least mildly dishonest. Upon examining the accounts, she discovered a small but repeated irregularity in the way her father’s share had been calculated.
Of more interest was the lease. Mrs. Lavender had omitted one significant term when describing it.
The lease renewed every five years, unless one party chose otherwise.
Presumably the rent could be renegotiated then. Shrewd of Mrs. Lavender to give the landlord part of the business. It was not in his interest to demand a rent that would kill the golden goose.
If those men still made their counterfeit notes, would they not want to find a new way to store them?
If they used the house in other ways, or were in league with Mrs. Lavender, would they not want the other partner in their net, too, once again?
Perhaps the men involved in this scheme had written to her, to inform her of her father’s incarceration.
If so, that sounded as if they indeed hoped she would take his place.
The next day Padua went downstairs at the dinner hour, and entered the dining room. All the women ate together, along with Hector and the groom. They all looked at her. Silence fell.
“I thought I should introduce myself. My name is Padua Belvoir. My father is John Hadrian Belvoir. He is Mrs. Lavender’s partner.”
Faint buzzing suggested all the young women did not know there was a partner.
“My father is indisposed, so I must stand in for him here. I will be executing his responsibilities and obligations.”
All eyes turned to Mrs. Lavender. Her eyes pierced Padua.
“My father is easily distractible, and did not involve himself in this business. I am cut of different cloth. I have ideas for improving everyone’s lot here.
I do not mean to interfere, but my father has been foolish to neglect such an important part of his income.
” She sat in an empty chair, and looked expectantly at one of the serving girls.
The girl hurriedly brought her a plate and fork.
Two of the soiled doves passed her the tureens of stew and rice.
Conversation resumed. The woman sitting next to Padua, a plump, pretty young woman with sandy hair, spoke to her. “I do not think Mrs. Lavender appreciates your interest in the house.”
“She has borne the burden on her own for so long, and she can imagine no other way. However, in a few weeks she will be glad I am here to help her. She must grow tired of taking care of everything.”
“Do you think to greet the guests too? I doubt she will give that up.”
The very idea terrified Padua. “I see no reason to ask her to, then. However, what happens if she takes ill? Does Hector do it instead?”
The woman laughed, drawing Mrs. Lavender’s attention. “Goodness no. She has a friend who joins us when she needs some money. That is who takes her place if she cannot take the helm. It does not happen too often, I am glad to say. I do not care for Emily.”
Padua looked down the table. “Is Emily here now?”
“Not today. She has her own trade, with longtime patrons. A carriage trade, to hear her tell it. The Honorable this and Lord that. She comes here maybe one night a week. You will notice her. She is older than most of us. There’s some men who have a fondness for older women.
Some even try to convince Mrs. Lavender to take a turn again, but I think it has been twenty years since she did. ”
Little cakes passed along the table. Padua helped herself to one. At least Mrs. Lavender fed her doves decent food. Far better than what had been sent up to Padua’s chamber the prior evenings.
“Are we to call you Miss Belvoir?” her tablemate asked. “Mrs. Lavender permits no informality with her own person.”
“Then it might be best if you did address me that way.”
“I am Susan. Most of us don’t have last names here. Not real ones, anyway.”
Being of inquiring mind, Padua had a lot of questions she wanted to ask Susan, most of them rude and personal.
Susan ate the last of her cake and licked her fingers. “You’ve never done this work yourself, have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Mmm. I didn’t think so. We can tell. You ain’t one of those reformer ladies, are you? We don’t need that sort here.”
“I would not presume to try to reform you.” Actually, it had crossed her mind.
“Then welcome.” She grinned, and pushed back her chair.
Mrs. Lavender walked over to Padua. “A nice little speech, Miss Belvoir. I will brook no interference, however.”
“In just under six months, the lease on this house renews. Or not. I will not interfere. But I will be keeping an eye on my father’s interests.”
Mrs. Lavender barely contained her anger. “Gentlemen will be arriving soon. I suggest you make yourself scarce, unless you want them in my office, bargaining for you.”
Padua would not have minded being a fly on the wall of the office, observing how those bargains were struck. As an idea, a brothel repelled her. Now that she was in one, however, she found it interesting.
She climbed the stairs to the deserted top floor, and repaired to her chamber.
She wondered if announcing her presence would bear any fruit.
If her father’s problems had begun here, and if he had become unavailable, would someone now approach her?
She hoped so. She could think of no better way to help him now than to point the authorities to the source of those bad notes.
* * *
“So I stopped my horse and had it out with him,” Lance said.
He lounged on a chair to the side, watching Ives and Gareth fence.
“I said, Listen here, Radley. Why are you showing up like a love-struck boy whenever I go riding? He did not care for the boy part, but I swear I feel as if he has improper designs on me sometimes.”
Gareth smirked, but did not lose his concentration.
“I wish he had declared his passion then and there,” Ives said. “That would have stunned the wit right out of you.”
“Such a man would never admit those inclinations if he had them. He is never seen without a hat. He always talks as if he is addressing a bishop. I don’t think he has any passion at all, and hates me because I know how to have fun.”
“How like you to assume you are admired for your excesses,” Ives said. “But do go on. What did Radley say to your challenge?”
“He said, and designs on my person would have surprised me less, he said that he hoped to gain my confidence and friendship, because he wanted to introduce his female relatives to me.”
That impressed Gareth enough that he stepped back and lowered his foil. “For what purpose does he pursue this introduction?”
Lance shrugged. “So I will receive them, I suppose. So they can drop my name at the county assemblies. So he can tell people he has a connection.”
“So you might marry one of them?” Gareth added.
Lance looked up, surprised, then began laughing. “He is a fool, but not an idiot, Gareth,” he choked out. “A ride or two with me is one thing, but that—even Radley is not so stupid as to aim that high.”
Ives waited for Lance to stop guffawing.
“Did he say anything else?” Ives asked.
Lance sobered up, and thought. “He implied he would call off the hounds if I accommodated him on this small favor.”
“Implied?”
“He could not say it outright, could he? That would be asking for a bribe. Radley does not want me off the hook only to find himself on one.”
“What did he say?” Gareth asked.
Lance waved his hand in a circle. “Something about friends and neighbors and the good of the county and, wait, something else. What was that now?” He frowned while he searched for it in his somewhat foxed head.
Ives’s patience thinned by the moment. “You grab him,” he muttered to Gareth. “I’ll duck his head in a bucket of water to clear his thinking.”
Gareth chuckled. “Do not blame him that you are out of temper. He has been behaving fairly decently since he came up yesterday. He is only half-foxed, and you have to admit that Lance happy is far preferable to Lance miserable, since he insists on infecting everyone with his humor good or bad.”
“I’ll blame him if I want. I did not plan on spending days on end with him as my shadow, nor I as his.”
“Ah, I have it.” Lance stuck a finger into the air. “I remember his exact words.”
“Are you going to share them?” Ives asked. “Or am I supposed to shake them out of you?”
Lance’s expression fell. He looked at Gareth. “He is talking like a vicar again.”
“Vicars do not thrash people,” Ives said.
“I trust you will remember that, Vicar,” Lance shot back.
“Ives has important matters on his mind,” Gareth said.
Lance’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “That woman? Of course it is. She is still a ticklish subject, I see.”
Ives prayed for forbearance. “Could you please turn your half-addled mind back to the exact words that Radley said to you, to imply he would call off the hounds?”
“Ah. Yes. He said, and I think you will agree his meaning was unmistakable—I certainly comprehended him immediately—”
“What. Did. He. Say?” Ives said.
“He said, County neighbors should look out for each other, and friends even more so. I always honor my debts when I am beholden to a man, especially if I have the means to resolve his greatest concern.”
“It certainly sounds like an overture to me,” Gareth said.
“I am more interested in what means he thinks he has,” Ives said. “Radley cannot end that investigation on his own. He is not the only authority involved.”
“What do I care how he will do it?” Lance said. “I allow an introduction to these women, I nod to them at an assembly, I receive them and Radley when they come to call once or twice, and it is over.”