Rendezvous (35 page)

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Authors: Amanda Quick

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Augusta reached out and touched her hand. “Sally, is there anything I can do? Anything at all?”

“No, dear. This is something I shall be obliged to handle on my own.” Sally’s eyes drifted thoughtfully to the jar of tonic.

“Sally?”

“Calm yourself, my dear. I am not going to do anything drastic just yet. I am much too busy at the moment seeking information for Graystone on the Saber Club. Heaven knows I always adored this sort of work. I have been in touch with old contacts I have not heard from in nearly two years. Amazing how many are still around and looking for employment.”

Augusta sat back slowly in her chair. She glanced at Meredith, who had paused beside the writing desk to observe something Cassandra Padbury was showing her. Probably Cassandra’s latest effort at an epic poem, Augusta thought.

“My husband is very determined to track down the information he seeks,” Augusta murmured to Sally.

“Yes. Graystone has always been a very determined man.
And he wants the Spider very much. The connection to the old Saber Club is an interesting one. It makes a great deal of sense when you think about it.”

“What do you know of the club?”

Sally shrugged elegantly. “Not a great deal. It did not last long. Attracted young military officers who thought themselves quite daring and dashing and in need of a club that catered to their image of themselves. But the place burned down within a year after it had been established and that was the end of it. I have not been able to discover any of the members as yet, but I believe I may have tracked down one of the former employees. He may well remember some names.”

Augusta was fascinated in spite of her misgivings about what might eventually be discovered in the course of this investigation. “How exciting. Have you spoken to this person?”

“Not yet. But I expect to do so soon. Arrangements are being made.” Sally’s shrewd gaze settled on Augusta for a long moment. “You are personally concerned with this project of Graystone’s, are you not?”

“I am interested in the outcome, yes. I know it is important to him,” Augusta said evasively.

“I see.” Sally was silent for a moment and then she appeared to come to a decision. “Augusta, my dear, you are aware that Pompeia’s betting book is always left open to the current page?”

“Yes. What of it?”

“If you were ever to find it closed, I would have you take the book to Graystone. Make certain it is opened.”

Augusta stared at her. “Sally, what are you talking about?”

“I know this must all sound quite mysterious and melodramatic, my dear, when in reality it is not. ’Tis merely a precaution. Just promise me that you will see that the book gets to Graystone in the event something unexpected should happen.”

“I promise. But Sally, will you tell me what this is all about?”

“Not yet, my dear. Not yet. Graystone knows I always prefer to verify my information before I turn it over to him. Harry can be the very devil about unverified information. Your husband has very little tolerance for mistakes.” Sally smiled at some private memories. “Just ask our old friend Scruggs. I shall never forget the time he got into trouble with a French officer’s wife and … ah, but that is an old story.”

“I see.” Augusta sipped her tea in silence, aware once more of the familiar sense of being on the outside looking into a warm room. She knew that she held no place in the intimate circle of friendship that bound Harry, Sally, and Peter together.

She knew this feeling well. It was the wistful sense of longing that she had often experienced since her brother’s death. She supposed she should be accustomed to it by now.

At times during the short weeks of her marriage, Augusta had thought the feelings of not belonging to a real family had finally begun to fade once and for all. It had seemed that Meredith was beginning to accept her, and Harry’s passion had made Augusta feel desired, at least physically.

But Augusta knew she wanted much more than what she had. She wanted to be an important part of Harry’s life in the way that Sally and Peter were. She wanted to be her husband’s intimate friend, as well as his wife.

“The three of you were rather like a family in some ways, were you not?” Augusta asked quietly after a moment.

Sally opened her eyes in surprise. “I had not thought of it before, but perhaps we were. We were all quite different, Graystone, Peter, and I, but we were obliged to share some very dangerous adventures. We needed each other. And we were frequently dependent upon each other for our very lives. That sort of thing binds people together, does it not?”

“Yes, I would imagine so.”

•  •  •

Harry was seated at his desk in the library when he at last heard the commotion in the hall that heralded the return of his wife and daughter.
It is about time
, he thought grimly.

Augusta had only been back in Town two days and already she was dashing about the city with Meredith in tow. When he had arrived home an hour ago no one had seemed precisely certain just where the pair had gone. Craddock, the butler, was under the vague impression Augusta had taken Meredith to the British Museum.

But Harry knew better. There was no telling what sort of amusements Augusta would deem suitable for a child of nine. Harry did not believe for one minute that his wife and daughter had spent the day at the museum.

He got to his feet and went to the door. Meredith, still wearing her new pink bonnet, saw him at once. She rushed toward him across the hall, bonnet strings flying. Her eyes were alight with rare excitement.

“Papa, Papa, you will never guess where we have been.”

Harry glanced sharply at Augusta, who was removing a seductively brimmed hat trimmed with huge red and gold flowers. She smiled innocently. He looked down at Meredith again. “If I shall never guess, then you must tell me.”

“To a gentlemen’s club, Papa.”

“A
what?

“Augusta explained that it was just like yours, Papa. Except that it was for ladies. It was so interesting. Everyone was very nice and talked to me about a great many things. Some of the ladies there are writing books. One of them was writing a story about Amazons. Is that not fascinating?”

“Very.” Harry gave his wife a quelling glance which she ignored.

Meredith missed the byplay and continued with her summary of the afternoon’s events. “And there were pictures of famous classical ladies on the wall. Even Cleopatra. Augusta says they are excellent examples for me. And I met
Lady Arbuthnott, who said I could eat as many cakes as I liked.”

“It sounds as though you have had quite an adventure, Meredith. You must be exhausted.”

“Oh, no, Papa. I am not in the least exhausted.”

“Nevertheless, Mrs. Biggsley will take you upstairs to your bedchamber now. I would like to talk to your mother.”

“Yes, Papa.”

Obedient as ever, but clearly still bubbling over with enthusiasm, Meredith was taken away by the patient housekeeper.

Harry frowned at Augusta. “Please come into the library, madam. I would have a word with you.”

“Yes, my lord. Is something wrong?”

“We will discuss this in private, madam.”

“Oh, dear. You are annoyed with me again, are you not?”

Augusta dutifully went past him and sat down on the other side of the desk. Harry seated himself. He folded his hands in front of him on the polished wooden surface of the desk and said nothing for a long moment. Deliberately he let Augusta feel the silent, heavy weight of his displeasure.

“Really, my lord, I do not like it when you glower at me like that. It makes me exceedingly uncomfortable. Why do you not just say what is on your mind?” Augusta started to strip off her gloves.

“What is on my mind, madam, is that you had no business taking a child to Pompeia’s.”

She rallied to the battle instantly. “Surely you can have no objection to us visiting Lady Arbuthnott.”

“That is not the issue and I believe you know it. I have no objection whatsoever to Meredith meeting Sally. But I object very strong, indeed, to exposing my daughter to the atmosphere of that damned club. We both know that women of a certain stamp tend to congregate there.”


A certain stamp?
” Augusta’s eyes sparkled with anger.
“Whatever do you mean by that, my lord? You make us all sound like professional courtesans. Do you think I will tolerate such an insult?”

Harry felt his temper begin to slip its leash. “I did not imply the club members were courtesans. By a
certain stamp
, I merely meant that the sort of females who frequent the place tend to turn a blind eye toward many of the proprieties. They pride themselves on being Originals. From my own personal experience, I can truthfully say that the ladies of the club are inclined to be somewhat reckless and outrageous. Not the sort of females who would set good examples for my daughter.”

“I would remind you, sir, that you married one of the members of Pompeia’s.”

“Precisely. A fact which qualifies me to judge the character of the women who become members, does it not? Let us be clear on this point, Augusta. When I gave you permission to accompany me to London, I told you I would not be able to dance attendance on you or supervise your outings. You gave me your word you would exercise good sense when taking Meredith about the Town.”

“I am exercising good sense. She was in absolutely no danger of any kind.”

“I did not mean physical danger.”

Augusta glowered at him. “Are we talking about moral danger, perhaps, my lord? You see the club members as bad influences on the morals of your daughter? If that is the case, you certainly should not have gone out of your way to marry one of the founders of Pompeia’s. That ‘damned club,’ as you call it, was my idea from the start.”

“Damnation, Augusta, you are deliberately putting the wrong construction on my words.” Harry was furious with himself for having allowed what should have been a simple husbandly lecture on female decorum to turn into a full-blown quarrel. He made a heroic bid for his self-control and his temper. “It is not the morals of the ladies of the club which alarm me.”

“I am very glad to hear that.”

“’Tis, rather, a certain streak of recklessness I find in them.”

“How many of them do you know, my lord? Or are you, perhaps, generalizing on the basis of what you have learned about me?”

Harry narrowed his gaze. “Do not play me for the fool, madam. I am well acquainted with the names on the membership list of Pompeia’s.”

That set her back. “You are?”

“Of course. I examined it most carefully once I realized I would very likely be marrying you,” Harry admitted.

“This is an outrage.” Augusta leaped to her feet and began striding angrily back and forth across the room. “You conducted an investigation of Pompeia’s? Just wait until I inform Sally of this. She will be furious with you.”

“Who do you think gave me the membership list to examine?” Harry asked dryly. “Between what I knew of the backgrounds of the ladies on that list and what Sheldrake and Sally were able to tell me, I concluded that you were in no serious moral danger. That does not mean that I approve of the place or of you taking my daughter there.”

“I see.”

“I would order you to withdraw your membership were it not for the fact that Sally is so ill and has so little time left. I am well aware that she enjoys both the club and your visits. Therefore, I will not deny you permission to go to Pompeia’s.”

“How very kind of you, my lord.”

“But henceforth, you will not take Meredith with you. Is that clear?”

“Quite clear,” she said through set teeth.

“You will also, in future, leave me a detailed schedule of all the activities you have planned for each day. I did not like coming home this afternoon only to be informed you were simply
out
with no exact information as to where you had gone.”

“A schedule. Yes, my lord. You shall most certainly have a
schedule
. Will there be anything else, Graystone?” Augusta paced furiously. Her anger was palpable.

Harry sighed and sat back in his chair. He drummed his fingers on the desk and eyed Augusta broodingly. He very much wished he had never initiated this confrontation. On the other hand, a man had to take a firm stand when dealing with a woman like this. “No, I believe that will be all, madam.”

She came to an abrupt halt and swung around to confront him. “If you have quite finished, my lord, I have a favor to ask you.”

Having mentally braced himself for more outrage and another impassioned defense of Pompeia’s, Harry was speechless for a few seconds. When he finally found his voice, he reacted quickly, anxious to find a way to be generous now that he had played the heavy-handed husband yet again.

“Yes, my dear?” He put as much warm encouragement as he could into his tone.
Hell
, he told himself, feeling suddenly magnanimous,
what is another new bonnet or a gown if I can restore her good temper?

Augusta came back across the carpet and planted both hands on the edge of the desk. Leaning forward, she fixed him with an intent gaze. “Harry, will you allow me to assist you in your investigations?”

Dumbfounded, he stared at her. “Good God, no.”

“Please, Harry. I know I do not know much about that sort of thing, but I believe I could learn quickly. I realize that I would not be of much use to you or Peter, but I could function as an assistant to Sally, could I not?”

“You are quite right, Augusta,” he said coldly. “You know nothing about this sort of thing.”
And as God is my witness, you will never learn
, he thought.
I will protect you from that kind of knowledge if it is the last thing I do
.

“But Harry—”

“Your offer is appreciated, my dear, but I assure you, you would be more hindrance than help.”

“But my lord, there are elements of your investigation that concern me as much as they do you and your friends. I want to be a part of your efforts. I have a right to be involved. I want to help.”

“No, Augusta, and that is absolutely the last word.” Harry picked up his quill and pulled a journal toward him across the desk. “Now, I must bid you good day. I have much to do this afternoon and I will be out for most of the evening. I shall be dining at my club with Sheldrake.”

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