Lynne Connolly by Maiden Lane Read Free Book Online

moment to stare up at the tall, narrow building, set at the junction between two streets in the City of London. The brass plate outside gleamed with prosperity and elbow grease, and the wide black-painted door stood open to the street, with people passing in and out. People seeking work as domestics, respectable and otherwise, prospective employers who wanted to interview servants away from their homes and then us, looking as out of place as swans in a duck pond.
    Alicia greeted us in her office, with its old but comfortable furniture and its mismatched but serviceable china. Sometimes I felt it as a relief, because every day I lived surrounded by perfection, the best of everything. I enjoyed imperfection too. I had known old, comfortable clothes and furniture, and sometimes I missed closing the door, making myself a pot of tea instead of ordering one sent up, and propping my feet up on the nearest chair. Richard had no such reserve. If he wanted to prop his feet on the exquisite, brocaded salon chairs, he did so.
    Alicia poured us each a dish of tea from a large brown pot. We helped ourselves to sugar and milk, and she sat back to listen to us. As usual, papers and books were scattered over her desk in seemingly random array, but she could put her hands on a specific piece of information in the blink of an eye.
    “It’s good to see you looking so well, Rose.” She lifted her dish to her lips. Hers had large tea roses blossoming on it. Mine had forget-me-nots. In public, Alicia gave me the respect due to my station, but in private we had long reverted to more familiar names.
    “I’ve settled into the pregnancy,” I told her with a smile. “I found the first month or two uncomfortable, but now all I need is an extra rest in the middle of the day. Which means I’ve had to cut down on my levées.” Receiving people in my chamber in the mornings, or what passed for mornings in London, was not my favourite London pastime. I wasn’t altogether unhappy about giving it up.
    Alicia raised a brow at Richard, who obliged. Succinctly, he told Alicia about John’s appearance in London and his visit to Lady Southwood. “I want him gone. And if Timothy has some time, I’d like to discuss the legal ramifications.”
    “I called him,” said the perspicacious Alicia. “He’ll be here shortly. I’d have collected his information before you came, but the rumours only began to circulate early this morning. I didn’t know about his visit to your mother, but I did hear about his appearance in the ballroom. Most of London has. He went out of his way to point up the similarities between you, didn’t he?”
    Richard’s mouth settled into a grim line. “He made sure of it. It was one of the most prestigious events at the start of the season, and he danced with every eligible maiden present. I believe he imagined I’d compete with him, but no.”
    “You don’t need to,” I said, exchanging a glance with Alicia. She nodded, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She knew exactly what I meant. On the town for twelve years or more, Richard merely had to show his presence for people to notice. It was one thing his son never understood, that Richard belonged to polite society, by birth and right. He’d have to seriously transgress for them to disown him. His son would only have to put a foot wrong and the sticklers would turn their backs on him. It could be one of our most effective weapons if it became necessary.
    “Thank you for that.” He didn’t smile, however. I hardly expected him to. Strain showed in the depths of his eyes, in the way he kept moving, drumming his fingers when he was sitting, walking around the room when on his feet. Only in private, only with us. His guilt over abandoning his son overwhelmed him at times, but only his closest friends knew that.
    The door opened on a knock and Timothy came in. He was the only person who would do that, enter without waiting outside. Timothy and Alicia lived together, but they