up Hilda’s neglected chore of refolding the scarves and took herself off.
Dany took hold of Clarice’s arm and walked the two of them a few steps closer to the corner. “You’re probably going to rule Society, you do know that, don’t you?” she told her new friend. “I don’t believe there’s a soul alive, chimney sweep to king, who doesn’t tread warily around those who might open their mouths at any moment to say just what they think.”
“Jerry doesn’t believe that. He’d rather I just smiled and curtsied for some space of time yet, perhaps until the spring Season. As it is, he can’t wait to get me out of London, the dear thing. As if I’d go. Oh! I remember now why I was so happy to see you. Jerry told me something yesterday, something truly extraordinary and impossible and, even worse, true. But I’m not supposed to repeat what he told me. Naturally, I’m bursting at the seams to do so. Please let me tell you.”
Sensing Mrs. Yothers hovering even though she’d turned her back to the woman, Dany said, “If it’s true, then I suppose it wouldn’t be gossip, would it?”
“That’s the spirit!” Clarice rubbed her palms together and bent her head close. “You’ve met Darby, haven’t you? I’m sure Jerry told me you did. Darby Travers, Viscount Nailbourne? He has that patch over his eye and all? Handsome devil, if a bit too amused, if you take my meaning. Gabe—Thea’s fiancé—is a happy soul, and up to most any mischief, and Coop is so upright and commonsensible, while my Jerry is very nearly their pet, bless him, and I’d never say such a thing to him. Such good friends, for such a long time. But this?” She shook her head. “Even Jerry is appalled. You’re really going to let me tell you?”
Dany wondered which one of them, Mrs. Yothers or herself, would be the first to grab Clarice Goodfellow by the throat and choke this supposed secret out of her.
But she managed to retain an outward calm as she nodded. “If only to ease your mind, Clarice. Yes, I’ll hear your secret.”
“Damned well about time,” the young woman whispered, this time so that Mrs. Yothers couldn’t hear her. Dany barely heard her, but she was fairly certain she knew what Clarice was saying.
Now the girl took a deep breath, held it for some moments and finally said: “He owns a brothel. Him. The viscount of Nailbourne.”
Dany gave a quick shake of her head, as if she hadn’t quite understood what she’d just heard. In truth, she was having some difficulty believing this was the secret Mrs. Yothers was to hear. “Pardon me? You couldn’t possibly have that right. Could you?”
Clarice gave a rather haughty push at her blond curls. “My Jerry doesn’t lie.”
“No, no, of course not. I wouldn’t imply any such thing. But this is terrible, Clarice. Very nearly as scandalous as if he’d gone into trade. My parents have been most clear on that point. Rather a privateer than a coal merchant. But this is worse, isn’t it?”
“Jerry thinks so. He said the brothel is right here in Mayfair, and that would mean that the viscount is rubbing shoulders with the men who pay to use his services. I mean, not his services. But the services he provides. Is that what I mean?”
“I’m sure I have no idea,” Dany lied, wishing she hadn’t listened so well to her brother when he was telling her things she shouldn’t know. “Clarice, Rigby was wrong to tell you. I understand you must have been bursting to tell someone, but now you can’t tell anyone else. Not a single soul. The viscount would be ruined. Disgraced. Forced to leave Society.”
Was that enough, or should she add a few more hints?
Clarice was vigorously nodding her agreement, so Dany decided she had made herself clear.
“Good. Now we’ll not speak of this again. Truly, it’s something we shouldn’t know, should we? Although I wonder if Coop knows. I may just tell him. But only him, and nobody else. This is our secret now, Clarice. And a terrible one it is. Why, it’s put me quite out of countenance. I don’t think I could look at a single thing in the shop today, even as I’d returned specifically to select materials for a few gowns my sister promised me. Shall we leave now, and hope you haven’t chased Rigby too far?”
They hadn’t. As soon as Dany stepped outside the shop she saw Rigby nervously pacing the flagway.
“There you are!” he exclaimed while Clarice held out her hands to him, as if they were meeting after an intolerably long separation. “Did you do it? Did she hear you? Where are your packages? Don’t say you didn’t buy anything. That would be too suspicious.”
“I’m not such a sad looby,” Clarice scolded as she slipped her arm through his and Dany joined them for what appeared to be a walk to the corner. “The bonnets will be sent to Grosvenor Square, but I allowed Dany to talk me out of the reticule, just as you wanted.”
“Ah, caught out, am I?” Dany said, laughing. “What gave me away?”
“Nothing,” Clarice told her as she winked. “I was merely guessing. Shame on you, Jerry. You just had to say no.”
“I would never say no to you, Clary. I wouldn’t know how.”
You’ll always have a choice, Dany. That’s a promise.
Two men. Saying two very different things. Yet both employing that same suddenly serious tone.
What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Rigby was a man in love. Coop was...well, he wasn’t, that’s all. Why, they barely knew each other.
She spied him as the trio turned the corner. He was standing beside his coach, propping up a light post, his arms folded, his feet crossed at the ankle. He looked like a man bored to flinders, and she felt a sudden mad desire to fling herself into his arms.
Rigby and Clarice gifted him with cheery hellos before climbing into the coach, but Dany stopped right in front of him to say, “Brothel? That couldn’t have been your idea.”
“True enough. Darby picked it. He wanted something salacious. Do you know what comes next?”
“I do, or at least I think I do. We come back when the shop closes this evening, and then hopefully get the chance to follow Mrs. Yothers as she goes racing off to meet with her blackmailing employer.”
Coop held out his hand to assist her into the coach. Once they were settled on the squabs and dutifully ignoring Clarice and Rigby, who were greeting each other as if parted for years (and why did she feel suddenly jealous?), he corrected her assumption.
“Darby has all of that in hand. We are attending the theater, to see and be seen, as last night’s dinner table gossip will have spread to every corner of Mayfair by then, and it’s important we make an appearance. We can’t have the world thinking you’ve locked yourself in your bedchamber, hiding from the man who compromised you, now, can we?”
Dany pointed to the cooing lovebirds on the facing seat. “Do we have to do that?”
Surely he couldn’t hear that smidgen of hope in my voice.
Coop smiled. “God, no. Nobody does that. Only the two of them. Unless, that is, you believe it necessary.”
“I don’t think so, no,” Dany said with all the conviction she could muster, stealing another peek at her new friends, who apparently had remembered where they were and broken off their kiss. Either that, or they’d run out of air. “Do you really think it will work?”
“That?” Coop asked rather incredulously, also pointing at his friends.
“No, of course not. The viscount flushing out the blackmailer. That is what you want, isn’t it? Mrs. Yothers taking him information he can use to further line their pockets?”
“You’ll pardon me for not always running fast enough to catch up with your mind as it skips ahead like a flat stone skimmed across a pond. But that is the plan, yes.”
“You should have spoken with me before you launched it, you know. Or did you