London Calling (12 page)

Without waiting for a reply, she swept out.

Admiral Tremain watched her go with a look of perplexity, then turned back to Major Haliday with a shrug and a slightly apologetic laugh.

“Very good of you, Haliday. I’ll drink to that.” He raised his own glass, and the two men drank while the other ladies filed out.

As the door closed behind them, Susanna heard Major Haliday raise his voice, so that it could not fail to be heard in the next room.

“To Mrs. Careme,” he said again.

#

The men rejoined the ladies in the front parlor a short while later. Admiral Tremain appeared to recollect his duties as host, and stirred himself to geniality, proposing various schemes for Susanna and Ruth’s entertainment.

“We must take them to Vauxhall, while they’re in London, eh, Charlotte? Can’t let them leave without seeing the famous pleasure gardens. I hear they’ve got a splendid fireworks show on just now. What do you say we all go tomorrow night?”

Mrs. Careme seemed surprised. “Vauxhall?” She repeated. Then, with an effort, “Certainly we should go. By all means.”

Her tone was flat, but Admiral Tremain appeared to notice nothing amiss, for he rubbed his hands together and beamed. “Capital, capital.”

The rest of the party agreed readily enough, and plans were formed to attend the evening’s entertainment at the pleasure gardens on the following night. Still, it was a relief when at last the evening ended, and Susanna was able to make her escape to her own room.

Since she had gone nearly sleepless the night before, she felt exhausted, and she could not help but think of James. She crossed to the darkened window and looked out. He might be anywhere‌—‌anywhere at all‌—‌in the sprawling city without.

The sound of upraised voices from the next room‌—‌the chamber on the other side of hers from Ruth’s‌—‌made her start. Prompted by she knew not what impulse, Susanna crossed the room and laid an ear against the wall. There were two voices, loud and angry, and Susanna now recognized them as that of Major and Mrs. Haliday. At first they were too muffled for her to make out the words, but they must have moved closer to the wall, for presently Susanna was able to catch a phrase here and there.

“Where are you going?” That was Mrs. Haliday, sounding angry and challenging.

There was an indistinct, vaguely sullen murmur from the Major, and then Mrs. Haliday, again. “I demand to know where you’re going. If you’re to go out gambling, squandering more of my money, I believe I at least have the right to know it.”

“Yes, I’ve no doubt you believe that. You’d like to keep me in your pocket and never let me out of your sight.” Major Haliday, too, sounded angry.

“Well, as it happens, where I’m off to tonight has nothing to do with you, or your precious fortune. It’s my own affair. You’re not the only one with assets to be guarded.”

There was the sound of footsteps, and then the sound of a door opening and shutting with a bang. He must have stormed out of the room and into the hall.

Susanna didn’t hesitate. She was still dressed from the evening. She caught up her opera cloak, a dark blue velvet that would be nearly invisible at night, flinging it around her shoulders. As she passed the writing desk, she saw a paper knife lying near the inkwell. A rather pretty knife, with a jeweled hilt, but what looked like a very sharp blade.

On impulse, Susanna slid the knife into her reticule. Then she went swiftly to the door and looked out. Major Haliday’s head and shoulders were just disappearing round a curve of the stairs. Quickly, silently, Susanna followed.

She knew she was acting rashly, but she did not allow herself time for second thoughts.

James had said that the traitor might be someone in the Admiral’s household. Either a member of the family, or a friend. Mrs. Careme had seemed the most likely. But Major Haliday, with his drunkenness and his heavy debts, was surely suspect, as well.

Susanna waited at the top of the stairs until she heard the soft opening and closing of the front door, then stole down and stealthily let herself out. The Major’s form was still visible, dark and upright, swaggering jauntily away from her along the pavement, and Susanna followed silently as she could, keeping well behind.

Although, she reflected, it probably would not have mattered had she followed directly on the Major’s heels. He was still too much elated by wine and excitement to notice her presence. He swayed slightly as he walked, and hummed a ragged tune under his breath.

At first the streets were deserted, but gradually, as they began to move southward, towards the Covent Garden district, little knots of pedestrians began to appear. Women in crumpled black bonnets selling violets, men in evening dress, swinging their canes as they made their way home from the theater, even children, with ragged clothes and bare feet blue with cold, begging money from passersby or selling matches from pasteboard trays. Susanna passed them, wishing she had something to give, but she had come out without even a sixpence.

They passed several taverns, where groups of rough-looking men lounged in the doorways and glanced at Susanna with flat, appraising eyes as she hurried past. Major Haliday wove steadily on, apparently taking no notice of those around him, until at last he paused on the pavement outside a decrepit-looking inn. A sign above the door read “The Blue Fountain,” and from the taproom within came the sounds of men’s voices, upraised in drunken song. The Major hesitated, and then opened the door and plunged within.

Susanna stood on the pavement, deliberating what to do. Ought she to risk following him inside? Certainly no respectable woman would ever venture into such a place, and among the crowd indoors she would be as conspicuous as a poppy amid a field of buttercups. But she’d come all this way, and if she abandoned her quest now, she would never learn the Major’s purpose in coming here. She decided to chance it. Drawing a deep breath, she crossed the street, opened the Blue Fountain’s door, and slipped inside.

The first thing that met her was a wave of heat, solid as a brick wall, and the almost overpowering stench of liquor and bodies packed closely together. The taproom was dim, the air murky with the smoke of half a dozen oil lanterns hung round the walls, and the noise was deafening. Groups of men crowded the bar, pounding on the counter and demanding their drinks be refilled, while others clustered round tables, shouting and laughing, and still others argued fiercely over games of cards. Susanna was not, as it turned out, the only girl there. Women in cheap finery with hard, haggard faces were draped here and there about the patrons, and as Susanna came in, one, a dark-haired girl in yellow satin and a feather boa, let out a scream of mock-anger and clasped the part of her person that apparently had just been pinched by a passerby.

Susanna took a cautious step forward into the room, but no one paid her any mind. Ahead, she could see Major Haliday, weaving his way towards the bar, and she heard him demand a gin and water. For a moment, Susanna wondered with a pang of despair whether he’d come here only for a drink, but then she saw him move away from the bar, clutching his drink, and make for a curtained doorway at the back.

Heart pounding, Susanna moved to follow, but she was stopped by a heavy hand on her arm, and a voice in her ear said, “Well, now. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” She turned and found herself held by a large man, grossly fat, with a red, ill-tempered face and tiny blue eyes all but lost in pockets of flesh.

His gaze moved over her appreciatively. “Here’s something new,” he said again.

His voice was slurred, and Susanna caught the reek of gin on his breath.

“Let go of me!”

She tried to pull away, but the man’s grip tightened. “Oh, no, you don’t. I suppose I’ve as good a right as the next man to buy what you’ve got to sell?”

His full lips drew back in an ugly grin, and Susanna’s heart contracted. “Let go,” she said again.

The man’s face darkened with anger. “Think you’re too good for me, eh? My money isn’t good enough for you, that it? I’ll not have a common little street-tart talk to me that way. I’ll . . .”

He started to pull her towards him, his fingers, hot and damp with sweat, crawling upwards along her bare arm. Panic rose in Susanna’s throat, threatening to choke her, and she was just about to make one last wild, desperate attempt to break free, when a voice‌—‌a voice she knew‌—‌spoke at her side.

“I beg your pardon, my good man, but I saw the lady first.”

Chapter 13

Susanna’s assailant turned, momentarily relaxing his hold. James looked down at him.

“That’s right,” he said. His voice was pleasant, perfectly modulated, and calm. Only someone who knew him well, Susanna thought, would suspect that James was in fact furiously angry. “Now, just you go along and find your own bit of skirt, eh?”

But the other man’s face had darkened once again. He stuck out his jaw, and his hands clenched. He took a menacing step forward. “And who’s going to make me?” he demanded.

James regarded him a moment. Then, as the man took another step towards him, James swung, and in one smooth, quick motion landed a powerful blow on his opponent’s jaw. A look of profound astonishment passed over the man’s face, and then his eyes closed. He fell backwards to the floor as heavily as a sack of coals.

Susanna was not certain what happened next. Her assailant struck several other men as he fell, and they all spun round angrily to see the source of the attack. Several lashed out with fists or feet, and the next moment the taproom was a pandemonium of brawling, shouting, angry men, all bellowing with rage, all punching, kicking, even hurling mugs of ale.

James slid his arm about Susanna and pulled her with him, blocking the stray blows with a raised arm. “Come. Stay close.” He had to raise his voice to be heard above the din.

He threaded a path through the sea of heaving, struggling bodies. Once or twice Susanna was struck a glancing blow, and once a shower of ale from a spilled mug splashed into her face and hair, but she clung tightly to James, and at last they gained the door and were free.

In the street outside, they paused a moment to catch their breath, listening to the muffled sounds of the fight that still raged within. James was looking at her. His expression was still impassive‌—‌but she saw a muscle jumping in his jaw. “I confess,” he said at last, “that when I agreed to let you take a hand in this business, I did not quite envision rescuing you from a lecherous drunkard in a brothel.”

“Was that a
brothel
?” Susanna asked.

“Near enough.” James’s voice was still ominously level.

The humor of the situation struck Susanna all at once. She tried to smother the laugh that rose in her, but she couldn’t entirely stop herself. “I am sorry.” She looked up at James. “You must have been surprised to see me here.”

“Surprised”‌—‌James’s voice was dry‌—‌“would be putting it mildly. And now, would you mind telling me what in God’s name you were doing there?”

“I followed Major Haliday here,” Susanna said.

“Major Haliday?” James frowned as though with an effort of remembrance. “He’s a friend of Admiral Tremain’s, is that right?”

Susanna nodded. “Yes. He is staying in the Admiral’s house‌—‌he and his wife. And I heard him quarrel with his wife, and then saw him creep out of the house tonight, after everyone else was in bed. I thought it suspicious, so I followed.”

“So you followed,” James repeated. “Just like that, without telling anyone where you were going? Without thought of where it might lead you?” He exhaled. “Holy God, Susanna, if I had not been there—”

“If you had not been there, I would have used this.” Susanna reached into her reticule and pulled out the knife she had secured there before leaving the house.

James looked down at her. “A paper knife. You were going to attack a room full of lower-East Side thugs with a paper knife. And you expect me to find this comforting?”

Both humor and the impulsive excitement that had carried her this far were fading, leaving Susanna feeling slightly queasy. She managed a small smile for James. “I did not say that I was not glad to see you.” She touched his hand. “I am sorry, James. And I swear I will not take such a thoughtless risk again. But do you not want to see what Major Haliday’s purpose was in coming here? If he had one, that is, besides drinking and gambling.”

James looked as though there were more he would have said. And she could read in his face the internal debate he was holding‌—‌whether to bring her back into the pub with him or to leave her alone on the street. Finally he said, “All right. We’ll go inside. But promise me that you’ll stay close to me.”

Inside, the fight had nearly abated. A couple of men still grappled together on the floor, surrounded by a ring of onlookers calling out encouragement and offering wagers on the outcome. But the rest of the customers had returned to their tables to finish their drinks.

James stood in the doorway a moment, his eyes scanning the room. Then he went still, tensing as his gaze settled on a table in a shadowy corner near the stairs to the rooms above.

Susanna followed his glance and saw Major Haliday leaning forward across the table’s scarred wooden surface, apparently deep in conversation with another man.

The other man’s back was to them, and Susanna could see only the outline of the man’s ear, the partial curve of his cheek. But beside her, James drew in a sharp breath and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

He pulled her with him, back out into the street, and started to walk at a brisk pace away from the Blue Fountain.

“James.” Susanna had almost to run to keep up with him. “Who was that‌—‌that man meeting with Major Haliday. Oughtn’t you to try to follow him?”

James shook his head. “No use. I already know who he is‌—‌and where he’s likely to go after this.”

“You do? How?” Susanna asked.

James frowned, as though trying to decide how much to tell her. But finally he said, “I don’t know how much of the other night’s conversation with Philippe and the rest of his charming confederates you overheard?”