8. Two Escorts, Five Informants
Chapter Eight
Two Escorts, Five Informants
The following day, the Lyon’s Den
Much like all those who worked at the Lyon’s Den, dunner Theseus was named after a character in Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream. His usual position was to act as a doorman—a guard of sorts—for the front entrance of the establishment and to see to it debts were collected when necessary.
At the moment, a young boy was attempting to collect from him. He scoffed and then rolled his eyes at the street urchin who held out a dirty hand, palm up. “’Afore I give you a farthing, you ’ave to tell me what you know,” he said.
“There ain’t no ladies working at Dutton’s,” the boy stated.
Theseus blinked and was about to send the caddy off without payment when Titan was suddenly at his elbow.
“No women working at Dutton’s?” he repeated, obviously having overheard the boy’s comment.
“Not a one,” the caddy confirmed. He accepted the farthing Titan gave him and ran off.
“What’s this about?” Theseus asked, obviously confused by the exchange.
“Mrs. Dove-Lyon had me send out a number of caddies earlier this morning to search for female librarians,” Titan explained. Before he could elaborate, another urchin, this one older, rushed up. Breathless, he addressed Titan directly. “Just came from New Bond Street, sir.”
“And?” Titan prompted.
“Hookham’s Circulating Library does not employ anyone of the female persuasion.” The last word was pronounced as if the boy had recently learned it, probably from someone at Hookham’s.
Titan gave him a farthing. “Seems odd, given their clientele is primarily women,” he murmured.
The boy shrugged. “You want me to ask over at Noble’s?”
Shaking his head, Titan said, “I already sent Freddy there, but come back tomorrow in case I have something else for you.”
“Aye, guv’nor.”
Theseus and Titan watched the boy jog off in the direction of Green Park. “Are you expecting anyone else to report this morning?” Theseus asked.
“Two more,” Titan replied, glad for the network of caddies they had at their disposal.
The young boys quickly navigated the streets of London in pursuit of whatever they had been hired to obtain.
Some days it was information, while other days they might be charged with purchasing items necessary for the gaming hell.
Paying them a farthing for their trouble was far more economical than hiring yet another employee to see to the tasks.
“Here comes one more,” Theseus murmured.
Titan chuckled softly, noting how the short-legged boy managed to cover a good deal of ground, darting between coaches and dray carts on his way toward them. “What’s the word, Tommy?” he asked as the boy came to a halt in front of them and executed an awkward bow.
“Bookshops smell funny,” Tommy stated.
It was Theseus’s turn to chuckle. “First time inside of one?” he countered.
The caddy nodded. “Might be my last. The clerk was not very nice.”
“At Hatchards?” Titan asked in disbelief, referring to the oldest London bookseller. Located next door to Fortnum & Mason in Piccadilly, Hatchards was said to be Queen Charlotte’s favorite bookshop.
“That place, yeah,” Tommy confirmed. “And no women work there. Told the bloke they should ’ire one ’cause a woman would be a lot nicer than ’im.”
“Let me guess. That’s when he kicked you out?” Theseus asked.
Tommy grunted in the affirmative.
Titan gave him two farthings. “For your trouble,” he said in a quiet voice. “Don’t be telling the others.”
“I won’t, sir,” Tommy said. “Where do I go next?”
Titan was about to mention the name of a bookshop when another caddy ran up to them.
“There’s a lady workin’ at the Temple of the Muses,” he said with excitement. “Pretty, too. Said she’s a library… library…”
“Librarian?” Titan offered.
“That’s the one. She started workin’ there this morning.”
Titan furrowed his brows. “Doing what?”
The boy lifted a shoulder. “Movin’ books about, I suppose. She was wearin’ gloves, and she was standin’ in the middle of piles o’ books,” he replied, raising his hands to match the height of his shoulders.
“Young or old?” Theseus asked.
The caddy furrowed his brows and shrugged. “She doesn’t ’ave any wrinkles, but she’s not a gull, neither.”
“Did you get her name?”
Teddy’s hands went to his hips, and he huffed as if he was offended. “Do I look nobbed in the head?” he countered.
“No,” Titan said at the same time Theseus said, “Yes.” An elbow in his ribs had Theseus gripping his side.
“Ouch.”
“Name’s Miss Kingston. Might be one of them bluestockin’s, seein’ as ’ow she can read,” Teddy said with a grimace. “Told me I should learn.”
“You should,” Titan said before giving him a farthing. “Good work, Teddy.”
“Thank ye, guv’nor.” The boy ran off in the direction from whence he had come while Tommy stomped his foot. “I suppose I don’t need to be going to that other bookshop, huh?”
Titan shook his head. “We’ll see. Come back tomorrow. She may not be the one we’re looking for,” he replied.
“Do you want me to go speak with the lady?” Theseus asked.
“And say what?” Titan countered. “I’ll let Bessie know,” he added, before heading into the Lyon’s Den.
Titan found the proprietress ensconced in her office, her hat resting on the edge of the desk as she stood at one of the windows in the back.
Her gaze was directed down on the main gaming floor, and from her pinched expression, Titan thought she was witnessing someone winning against the house.
Then she placed a hand on her chest and sighed with relief.
He suppressed a grin. “We have a possible librarian,” he said without preamble.
Bessie tore her attention from the game of cards she was watching and said, “Where?”
“The Temple of the Muses. Apparently Miss Kingston is neither young nor old, and according to Teddy, she’s pretty,” he said. “Says she just started working there this morning.”
Grinning at hearing this bit of information, the matchmaker moved to her desk and pulled a sheet from atop one of the neatly stacked piles.
“So… usually the question becomes, does she have a dowry?” She waggled her brows.
“One decent enough to make me some blunt while large enough to pay off Lord Wingfield’s debts? ”
It was Titan’s turn to wince. “Begging your pardon, but I hardly think this approach to finding a match is very viable,” he murmured.
“How much has it cost us?” she asked, as if she thought Titan’s comment had to do with money.
He shrugged. “Six farthings, so far,” he replied.
She dipped her head. “There was a time I didn’t have six farthings to my name,” she said. “There are times I feel as if I still don’t, but I assure you, this match will pay handsomely.”
Startled to hear her claim, Titan scratched his cheek with a forefinger before flexing and fisting his hand.
“Does it still bother you?” she asked.
He knew right away she was asking about his hand.
Injured in the war, his left hand had healed on the outside, but it tended to stiffen on the inside if he didn’t keep it moving.
Playing guitar helped when he wasn’t working, but when he was, he found he needed to flex it frequently. “It’s getting better,” he replied.
“Perhaps one of the dealers can massage it for you,” she suggested. “I’m quite sure at least one of them find you rather appealing.” She waggled a brow.
Titan knew his face reddened. Every table host Mrs. Dove-Lyon employed in the gaming hell preferred men over women.
He was fairly sure Oberon did, too. She passed as a man by wearing a mask over most of her face.
“I’ll take it under consideration,” he murmured.
“Would you like me to go and meet the librarian?”
“What’s the real reason for your hesitance on this one?” she asked. “Is there something you know about Lord Wingfield? Something I should know?”
Titan gave a start. “It’s not him,” he assured her. “I know him from school. He’s one of the good ones.”
“So… what has you so vexed?” she pressed.
He inhaled and let the breath out in a whoosh.
“Usually you wait until a rich woman comes to you in search of a man,” he stated.
“And then men just come because they’re desperate for a wealthy wife.
This one feels as if… as if you had to solicit him and now, because his desires are so specific, you won’t be compensated in the usual sense. ”
Bessie shook her head as she returned to the window. “Perhaps I’m feeling charitable regarding Lord Wingfield,” she said, her attention once again on the card game taking place in the gaming hell below. “Probably because the house has done rather well this past week,” she added in a whisper. “Or…”
Titan arched a dark brow. “His father didn’t owe you any money, did he?” he guessed.
Lifting a shoulder, Bessie sighed. “On the one hand, I suppose I should be offended the old coot didn’t prefer to play hazard here in my establishment. I think he was here only twice.”
“But on the other?” he prompted.
“Collecting funds from His Lordship would have been next to impossible. I think Frank at the Jack of Spades gave up before the old coot had even died.”
“Why?”
“Wingfield refused to pay, but Jack has a long memory. He’s no doubt sent dunning notices to the heir,” she replied.
“Did he have debts elsewhere?” Titan asked.
Bessie nodded. “For a time, but when he threatened to expose what Watson’s was doing, well, they quietly marked his account paid in full.”
Titan knew exactly what she meant. The operators at Watson’s, a gaming hell in St. James’s Street, frequently cheated their players by employing sleight of hand.
The waiters made sure to distract a player’s attention when a cheat was in progress, which was easy given how they encouraged more drinks and kept the glasses full.
Despite rumors of cheating, they had continued the practice for some time, and then, after Lord Wingfield’s rather public warning, they ceased the practice.
Bessie suddenly straightened. “I need to run an errand, so I’ll see to meeting with Miss Kingston,” she said. She picked up the black hat from the end of her desk and placed it on her head at a jaunty angle, making sure the netting covered her face.
Titan pulled her black mantle from a hook on the back of the door and held it open for her.
“If you could have the coach sent ’round?”
“Right away,” Titan said, bowing slightly before taking his leave of her office.
As he made his way down the stairs, he secretly wished he could be a fly on the wall at the Temple of the Muses. He wanted to discover exactly how the matchmaker was going to convince the librarian to consider her offer.
Surely a learned woman would know better than to marry an earl in debt.