Chapter 11 #2
“A curious matter has come to my attention lately, Julia. An acquaintance of mine hinted you have ‘acted disgracefully’ at your tables. I was confident they must be mistaken, but I wished to check with you. You would tell me if something was going on to make someone develop such a passionate dislike of Solitaires?” Lady Mortimer spoke in a soft voice, such that Georgina could barely hear her.
Georgina pressed her ear against the backrest of the wing chair, as though this might assist her to hear better, but it made a creaking sound when she touched it. Stricken, her mind raced through assorted weak excuses to explain her presence if they turned and located her.
Fortunately, Mrs Gardner had chosen that same moment to use a tinderbox to light an additional candle. The scratching noise, followed by the sound of the flame igniting, filled Georgina with relief. She exhaled a slow, shaky breath.
“It’s unlike you to listen to gossip, Elizabeth,” Mrs Gardner chided. “I wonder who has been filling your head with such nonsense.”
“I feel reassured then. It would sadden me to think you have fallen into difficulties or the way you run your business here is not de rigueur.”
“Of course not.”
The impulse to spring from her hiding place and declare Mrs Gardner an unconscionable liar came upon Georgina. She erred on the side of discretion for a change and clamped her mouth shut instead.
“As you may recall, I’ve never approved of your plan to start a gambling den.”
The pause that followed this comment suggested Mrs Gardner was scrambling for a suitable answer. Georgina wished she could see her squirm under Lady Mortimer’s interrogation. “Naturally, I am grateful for everything you have done for me,” Mrs Gardner said, “but I needed to find my own way… .”
“I scarcely think following the advice of Ellis and Montgomery constitutes finding your own way. Instead of assisting you towards an independent living, my suspicion is they have continued to lead you down a path of roguery.” Georgina detected a stern note in Lady Mortimer’s voice.
So, she knew something of the illicit nature of Solitaires, condemned it, and yet patronised the establishment regularly?
Georgina’s fascination with the Countess deepened.
“Those gentlemen have been most generous to me.” Mrs Gardner sounded feeble.
Lady Mortimer responded with a cynical laugh. “You are not dealing with a babe born yesterday, my dear.”
Mrs Gardner sniffed dramatically. “Perhaps generous is not the appropriate word,” she conceded.
“We both know that your compliance does not stem from a sense of gratitude. Their hold over you is made of stronger stuff than that.”
Georgina longed to be able to read Mrs Gardner’s face. What were they talking about?
“I made mistakes very early in my dealings with them, Elizabeth, yes. And I am still paying the price. Despite all your efforts to help, they seem to be one step ahead, and any effort to escape their control only makes my—our—situation worse.”
Lady Mortimer sighed. There was a rustle of fabric, which Georgina presumed was Lady Mortimer moving from her position on the sofa.
“I shall take my leave of you.” There was a significant pause.
Georgina stiffened but dared not crane her neck to see if Lady Mortimer was looking in her direction. “Please, see me to the door.”
“Very well,” Mrs Gardner replied. She extinguished the candle she had just lit, and the two exited the room, closing the door behind them.
Georgina was plunged into relative darkness once more.
She released a loud sigh and collapsed from her hiding place in relief.
That had been rather too close for comfort.
She went directly to the door and pressed her ear to it.
She waited for the sound of Lady Mortimer taking leave, followed by the distinct footfall of Mrs Gardner making her way back upstairs.
Georgina slipped out of the gaming room and back down the stairs to the main hall. That had been close. Too close.
Footsteps sounded on the staircase behind her, and Georgina held her breath again, sinking into the darkness of the walls as much as possible.
Her heart raced, thudding so hard she thought she could hear it echo throughout the house.
Had Mrs Gardner heard her coming out into the hall, or was it an attendant getting ready for the day?
Another young maid—this one carrying a large basket overladen with laundry—emerged briefly from the shadows, then disappeared down the attendants’ stairwell. Georgina understood she must escape from the house immediately and not risk the same path by which she had gained entry.
As she stepped out of the shadows, however, a young footman emerged from an open doorway to her right. He had been preoccupied dusting some lint off the arm of his livery, but upon seeing movement, he gasped in surprise.
Georgina gauged him to be only nineteen or twenty, and from the expression on his face, she was not sure who suffered the bigger fright.
The lanky young man looked as though he were about to call out, but he hesitated when Georgina beamed up at him.
“Sorry, my dear fellow. Forgive me for alarming you. Fell asleep. Back there in the, ah … one of the, ah …”
“The private rooms?” he supplied helpfully.
“Indeed. One of the private rooms. Must have shot the cat. Quite unusual for me, you understand. Can’t think what came over me.”
He eyed her warily for a moment, but at her good humour, he nodded.
She reached into her pocket and retrieved a shilling. Pressing it into his hand, she said warmly, “Apologies for any inconvenience.”
“Thank you, Miss … ?”
“Ravenscroft.” With a smile of self-satisfaction, she strode to the front door, opened it, and disappeared into the dawn.
Feeling invigorated by her thievery, Georgina opted to walk home, even detouring for a brief stroll via Green Park to enjoy its frosty morning beauty.
By the time she returned to Half Moon Street, Georgina could think only of her bed.
Her eyes stung with fatigue, and her body ached for rest. She hid the spoils of her night’s work in the desk in her library before retiring up to her room.
In a matter of minutes, she stripped down to her underwear and climbed into her turned-down bed, most content with her efforts.
It would have been most straightforward to discover the young man’s promissory notes lying conveniently on a desk, but Georgina felt she made the best of a situation and at least now had a means to coax Mrs Gardner into relinquishing Arthur’s IOUs.
No sooner had her head hit her pillow than she fell into a dreamless slumber.