Chapter 35 Jahleel—Men Talk
JAHLEEL—MEN TALK
Sitting at the bay window, the premier seat at White’s puts the Earl of Livingston and myself on display. Patrons search for seats. It may appear odd for our table to have one open seat.
“You look unusually relaxed, Torrance.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” It’s not like I lost my mind and made love with Katherine, promising her who knows what to sip jasmine from her skin. “It’s a good day.”
I wipe my face, pushing aside the memories of my secret room where I delighted in … secrets … a garden of jasmine, fetishes, and Katia. My leg hurts from rolling around like newlywed fools.
“Well, it’s good to see you outside Anya House.” He sips from his wineglass. “I heard you’ve been pretty ill. Now you’re going to hold a ball and announce your new bride there.”
“News travels quickly.” Well, that decision to announce was before my afternoon in my secret room, before the arms and hips and feet of the woman I love. “I will enjoy a ball.”
“Well, good news should travel fast. But it sounds pretty ambitious.”
“Guilty,” I say.
The fellow guzzles his glass, downing the contents in one huge gulp.
“Are you well, Livingston? You seem to be … to be nervous.”
The earl shrugs. He’s less wrinkled than normal, but he spent the day with my mother and my child, which was my special request. Not sure if it did him any good.
He refills his glass. “Why dine here? Anya House has a good chef. Lord Mark’s wife has those biscuits. You don’t need my help with whatever bet you have with Lady Hampton.”
“Who told you about a bet?”
“Lord Mark. He told me. And as the last man standing in our friend group, obviously you want me to marry Lady Hampton … Wilcox … Palmers … Charles? What name is the woman going by these days?”
“That’s not—”
“No. No, Torrance. No need to beg me. Nothing on this earth would make me marry again. I’m free. I would never think of being held back again. You shouldn’t be considering, either. I swore never to marry again. You should take the oath, too.”
“Livingston, stop talking. Take a drink from your glass. I have a question to ask you.”
“So, you’re not thinking of me as a candidate to marry Lady Hampton?” He waggles a finger at me. “You’ve gotten all my friends …”
“You have one friend, Lord Mark Sebastian. He married Georgina Wilcox. Mr. Carew is an acquaintance. His union to Scarlett Wilcox is the only one I interceded in arranging.”
“Carew is less fun. He married the frighteningly smart sister. She looks a lot like his visiting cousin who was here from Trinidad a few months ago. I miss him. It would be someone to go out with. You’re about to marry so that means I’m alone again.”
This man can’t be this stupid, not to have perpetrated the greatest scandal that London has yet to know. I lean closer. “Why would I want you to marry Lady Hampton when you’re already married? Wouldn’t Mrs. Alexander Melton, the living Countess Livingston, object?”
He starts to laugh. “My wife divorced me in Scotland. She ran off, and I will never marry again.”
“I love the passion and conviction you offer when you announce this lie. It sounds good and bitter. But I know that Mrs. Melton did not divorce you. She returned to London and currently runs a profitable enterprise.”
Livingston gulps down his brandy and makes a series of hand motions to replenish his glass. Then he whispers, “What are you saying, Torrance?”
“That your wife, your countess, Lady Livingston, is Madame Rosebud. And I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Where did you hear this?”
“One of her flowers told me. A chrysanthemum, to be exact.” Baroness Derand, formerly employed by the brothel, to be precise.
“Madame Rosebud has assisted me on a few occasions. She wanted you to escort my daughter and mother on the market excursion. The favor I asked was for her. She wants you to see that being around a child, your child to come, is not terrible.”
He straightens up, and it seems the man instantly sobers. “Lord Mark said you know every scandal. I should’ve believed him.”
“Not every one. Just the important ones. This is important. Rosebud’s child could be your heir—the next Earl of Livingston. You can’t keep a proper relationship in the dark. Madame wants to be out of the shadows. How are you going to bring this about?”
He folds his arms and looks up to the ceiling. “I’d hoped that this would happen later when my dear mama, the dowager Livingston, would be too senile to care. She is the one who ran Rosa off in the first place.”
Of course. Her name is Rosa. Madame Rosebud is Rosa. “The poor dear couldn’t come up with a more creative name?”
“Things are easier if your mistress and wife have similar first names.”
This is true. Katherine. Katia. It would be terrible to whisper the wrong name at an intense moment. “But for you, these are the same woman.”
“I know it sounds crazy. But she’s a businesswoman. I met her as she was selling flowers.”
I almost choke on my teacup. “You mean actual flowers?”
“Roses, lavender, lilies—actual flowers, wrapped in fragrant paper.” Livingston makes hand motions like he’s tearing away petals.
“She’s not of the same class as I. That was the problem.
Now, she has more money than most peers.
More than me, well, while my mother’s not senile and controls the purse. ”
“Perhaps being married to your mistress isn’t a bad thing.”
Livingston looks around. Does he spy the gawking peers and wealthy men, many of whom have attended my science meetings? Here, they drink and gamble in the open, and yet they’ll pretend to be paragons and bring their public wives to my ball.
“I used to fear what men like this think,” he says.
“Rosa is terrified of being rejected again. I don’t know how to bring her into my world.
I don’t think I can function as anything but a drunk in hers.
I go to her every night at the place that she’s financing.
To make her give up everything to be ridiculed in my world is too much.
But I can’t have my child brought up in a brothel. And what if this is my son?”
“Women with businesses, what do you do with them?”
“Who are you looking around for, Torrance? You don’t care what anyone thinks.” He gapes at me and then tries to find what I’m searching for. “Why would you arrange dinner and sit in the most notable spot? This isn’t just about Rosa.”
“There is more, but for now, I want the dowager and Countess of Livingston to attend my ball.”
His eyes get big like teacups. “You want my mother and wife to come? Are you serious?”
“Madame Rosebud and Lady Hampton need routes back to acceptable society. I don’t want the mother of my child, or yours, ostracized. The dowager attendance can make sure both have acceptance.”
“Why my mama? What about Lord Mark’s?”
“Oh, the Marchioness of Prahmn is going to come.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“She got her beloved house back. Prahmn’s extended tour of the Continent gave her the opportunity she needed.”
“Torrance, you are always outthinking everyone. How exactly did you get in such a predicament of losing the woman you loved?”
“I trusted a friend. And thought my wife knew the man I was, but I was wrong. Katherine Wilcox Charles fell prey to rumors. You can’t have doubts about the ones you love or those who claim to love you.
Don’t make the same mistake, Livingston.
Madame Rosa needs to know you’ll fight for her, for your family. ”
“I was public about Rosa before, but she couldn’t withstand the scrutiny. She made her exit from London loud and terrible. She thought that would help me move forward and end our marriage. How can I end the one good thing in my life?”
“You don’t. And you’ll be surprised at how flexible one can become when a woman asks you to do something. You learn to be quiet and very flexible.”
“Flexible? It would be nice not to have everything laundered to remove the rosewater scent.”
He does smell floral, but now so do I. Steele put chrysanthemums in my carriage for the other stops I must make. I probably won’t return to Anya House until dawn.
Finishing the last of my tea, I realize it doesn’t pack the punch that Scarlett’s does. Maybe I’ve grown fond of the taste. Or is it how it makes me feel when Katherine’s near?
We loved each other again. And it was as chaotic and crazy and as consuming as I remembered. No other love will be like hers.
“Madame Rosebud did me a huge favor, helping me expose the Marquess of Prahmn. I’m in her debt. I must pay my debts.”
“Mark’s father? Yes, that was shocking. Are you going to expose me at your ball?”
“That depends upon you. Madame Rosebud will attend my ball with or without your escort. Mr. Steele got her word this afternoon. She wants Stilton cheese, and to be acknowledged as your wife in public before hiding her condition is impossible. We’d talked a great deal about this before I became ill.
I’m well now. I cannot refuse her request. I must clear my debts. ”
“That’s good to hear.” An older man with thick gray hair and a greedy grin, one that reminds me of Tavis, stands near the table.
“Mr. Palmers,” I say. “It’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” he says with his lips curling up.
Every summer, when I visited my father, we spent time at the Palmerses’ estate. The man taught us cards and every game of chance. Those were good memories. It’s a pity all the good fun goes to hell as we age and discover our vices have no restraint. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Is it true you’re offering twenty thousand pounds to the man who marries Katherine Wilcox?”
My goodness, the ladies of London work fast. “For Lady Hampton, yes. And her full name is Katherine Wilcox Charles Palmers. Don’t tell me you’re interested. I mean, what does Mrs. Palmers think?”
“Hey. You can’t be married to two women at the same …” Livingston drinks his wine.
“Nor can Katherine be married to two men, even if one has died.” Palmers forces his way into an empty chair.
I sit back. “What is it that you need to honor the son who finally picked up your bad habits?”
“The twenty thousand pounds would be a good start.”
“Twenty thousand?” Livingston looks at me and then quiets.
I finish the weak tea, but my blood already boils. “Why would I even consider paying you anything?”
“Look, you have no vices to exploit. Can’t find anything on you, Torrance. And whoever your mistress is … well, no one knows.”
“Do not blame me for not being disorderly like you or your son. And Madame Rosebud tells me you’re an avid client when your money is right. Poor Tavis had to help you out there, too. Got himself all smelly.”
The sneer on his face spreads. His countenance burns red with rage. “My son was weak.”
“I’ve a new respect for Tavis. He’d lie to gain the woman he loves, but he’d never directly hurt her by being unfaithful. To do so is weakness, don’t you think?”
“He’s gone. The title has passed to a cousin, and its meager income went, too.”
An income? Then why did he burn up Wilcox Coal’s coffers? “Tavis’s money was your concern? What of his debts?”
The indifference radiating from this fellow makes me realize Tavis was a better son than this man deserved. “You need to run along, Palmers, and leave Lady Hampton and the Wilcoxes alone. For your own good.”
Palmers orders ale. “Katherine Wilcox owes me.” He gawks, tugging at his thin, wrinkled cravat as I push Livingston’s and my bill his way.
“You want me to pay, Torrance? You have this wrong. I’ll get money from you, or Katherine and your long-lost daughter will pay.”
When his glass comes and the server leaves us, I say, “You can’t undo what I’ve done. No court will side with you, and you don’t want my wrath. Besides, your accounts are low. You can’t hire a barrister good enough to make a case.”
The evil man cackles. “I’ll ruin her in the court of public opinion.
That’s the one that matters. I’ve already convinced some of her mother’s jezebel ways.
The good people merely need a small push to throw fruit at the haughty Blackamoor, who thinks she’s their better.
Then there are your peers, who will welcome the ruination of her and your daughter to strike at you. ”
He stands. “Mrs. Palmers and I will attend the ball you are throwing at month’s end.”
“I’m bad at invitations, but I’m sure you’re not on the list.”
He tosses down a coin. It’s not enough to pay for one glass of ale.
“We’re on the list. And have my payment ready.
You can act impervious. Maybe nearly dying can do that, but the ones you leave behind will crumble.
And unlike you, Your Grace, they can’t be mistaken for who they are.
They’ll not be able to hide from men like me. ”
Livingston stops swiveling his neck from me to the threatening buffoon and focuses on his drink. He pushes it away when Palmers leaves, and asks, “What are you going to do, Torrance?”
“Have more tea and wait for Lord Mark and Carew to join us.” I wave for a clean seat to be added.
“That’s not what I mean,” he says. “Palmers will make good on his threats.”
“Nothing will be done tonight.” My voice lowers. “But soon, I will act.”
“You’re a cold one, Torrance. Very even-tempered.”
Cold? Nyet. Just less fevered about all the trivial things. “I want anyone who dares to think of coming after me or my family to live in fear, in this life and the one beyond.”
Livingston pushes his glass of brandy to me. “Sounds like you need this more than me. And do you feel like adopting me? I’d like that type of friend when everyone finds out about Rosa.”
“I will count you as a friend. And I know you and Carew and Lord Mark will take care of the people I love when I can’t.”
He nods. I guess he knows what I mean.
All the teas and wine will never stop time. I have to protect my legacy at all costs. Lady Lydia and Katherine are worth all my strength. Even if it costs my life, they deserve to be protected.