Page 29 of Reforming Lord Ragsdale
“Costello,” Emma offered.
Fae gestured toward the sofa and its occupant, who appeared poised to bolt the room. “This is my ... brother,” she said.
If this is your brother, then I am the Lord Mayor of London, Emma thought as she nodded to the young man. “Delighted,” she said. “How fortunate for Miss Moullé to have relatives in the city.”
A small silence followed that no one seemed to know how to fill. His cheeks flaming the shade of Fae’s lip color, the young man leaped to his feet, babbled something about work to do or people to see, and fled the room. Fae watched him go, her face filled with a longing that disappeared as soon as she fingered the necklace.
“How kind of Lord Ragsdale to take such good care of me,” she said, her French accent more pronounced. “Do sit down, Miss Costello, and here is the tea.”
Emma sat in the chair closest to the fire, accepted the tea, and leaned back to bask for a moment in the wages of a sinful life.Mama would be shocked if she could see me in the love nest of a debaucher, she thought.I wonder where Fae keeps all those gloves, she considered next as she watched the woman scrutinize the necklace with the practiced air of a gem merchant.I wonder she does not put a jeweler’s loupe to her eye, Emma considered. She sighed and reached for a macaroon, and then another.It will not be easy to pry Fae Moullé away from these particular fleshpots. I know I would not give up such luxury willingly.She waited for Fae to speak, hoping to take some cue from her words.
“Miss Costello, you say he won your indenture in a card game?” Fae was asking. “I can’t imagine Lord Ragsdale doing anything that smacked of exertion, and card games can be rigorous affairs.”
“It is true,” Emma replied, wondering at a female so lazy that she thought cards a challenge.How fitting for Lord Ragsdale, she concluded. “But really, I think he is not the idle man you believe him to be.”
She stopped, macaroon in hand, and wondered why she was defending Lord Ragsdale.How odd, she thought as she popped it in her mouth.
“Oh, he is lazy,” Fae countered, leaping to her feet and taking a quick turn about the room. “He usually comes here to sleep off the exertion of an evening at White’s.” She paused delicately, then plunged ahead. “At least, that is all he has come for lately. I mean, he won’t even exert himself to. . .”
“I think I understand,” Emma interrupted hastily, her cheeks red.
Fae Moullé only nodded and took another circuit of the room, looking out the window as though she expected to see the young man outside on the street. “Sometimes he is so neglectful that I have to invite my ... brother to keep me company.”
You know I do not believe you, Emma thought as she nodded.
“Brothers can be a wonderful diversion,” she said, preserving the fiction. She thought of her own brothers then, both the quick and the dead, and pushed aside the remains of the macaroon plate. She took another sip of tea and looked Fae in the eye. “I have come to negotiate with you, Miss Moullé,” she began. “Let us first clear up some questions.”
~
She left Miss Moullé’s establishment as it was growing dark, a smile on her face and her stomach too full of macaroons.What a turn I have done you, Lord Ragsdale, she thought as she hurried along, hoping to beat the rainstorm that threatened.Indeed, it is a pity that I could never study for the diplomatic corps. With scarcely the smallest difficulty, I haverid “Your Mightiness” of a mistress and managed to cheat you soundly in the bargain. Who would have thought the day to have had such promise when it began? I know I did not.
It wasn’t the sort of deception that would see her to Newgate, irons, and a berth to Australia. She had merely hinted to Fae that Lord Ragsdale was beginning to suspect that his loving light-skirt was playing a deep game. Fae had squeezed out some noisy tears and just the threat of a spasm, until Emma assured her that Lord Ragsdale had nothing more substantial than suspicions.
She knew that she could have told Fae that it was all over, and Lord Ragsdale’s mistress would gladly have packed her bags and let it go at that, relieved that he had not discovered her other male visitors and made an ugly scene. There wasn’t any need for Lord Ragsdale to spend another penny. But since he had many such pennies, Emma smiled inwardly and plunged ahead, content to fulfill his request to the letter of the law.
“Miss Moullé, Lord Ragsdale has authorized me to suggest to you that he would not be too unhappy if you left his employ,” she said. “In fact, he is willing to make you an offer. . .” She paused, and coughed slightly. “. . . an offer to make up for the sadness such a parting will cause you.”
Fae was fanning herself vigorously, despite the slight chill in the room. Her blonde curls fluttered from the effort. “Oh, I am not sorry!” she burst out, then stopped and considered what Emma was saying. Her eyes took on a more melancholy expression, her shoulders drooped, and she assumed such an air of wounded pride that Emma wanted to applaud the performance. “Perhaps I am alittlesorry,” she amended. “After all, five years of my life ... What, uh, kind of offer did he have in mind?”
Emma looked beyond Fae as though studying the wall. “He told me he felt honor-bound to provide for you in some way, Miss Moullé.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I suppose that is your decision. He especially wanted me to ask you what would make you the happiest.”
Fae leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees in a most unladylike posture. She stared into the grating, where the flames leaped about. Fae was silent so long that Emma wondered if she had drifted off to sleep. Emma was about to nudge her, when Fae looked at her, her practiced melancholy replaced with glee.
“I have it!” she exclaimed. “Tell your master that I want to open my own millinery shop in Bath.”
“My, that will be expensive,” Emma exclaimed, unable to keep the admiration from her voice. “Think what the inventory will cost, and the expense of a shop and probably living quarters.”
“Of course I will need living quarters,” Fae agreed, getting up with a decisive motion to stand by the fireplace. “And nothing paltry. After all, I am used to Half Moon Street, am I not? And who can make a success of such an establishment unless it is in the most forward part of town?”
“Oh, indeed,” Emma replied. “After all, Bath is not a town for nipfarthing ways, or so I am told.” She shook her head, aiming for the right degree of doubt. “This is an expensive proposition, indeed.”
Fae rose to the bait. “Do you think it is too much?” she asked anxiously.
“I am sure there is nothing Lord Ragsdale would not do, no lengths to which he would not go, to make sure that your leaving is a pleasant experience,” Emma said.Did I actually say that?she asked herself, knowing that she was spreading around as much fiction as Fae herself. And Fae knew it too. Emma could tell by the unholy look that came into the woman’s eyes.
They looked at each other for another moment, then both burst into laughter. The next few moments were taken up with the most delicious merriment. It seemed to swell from the soles of Emma’s feet upward. She laughed until her sides ached and then lay back in the chair, exhausted with the pleasure of such tomfoolery. The maid even stuck her headin the room’s entrance, but Fae waved her away, then surrendered to a fresh spasm of jollity, at Lord Ragsdale’s expense.
Fae was the first to recover her voice. “Miss Costello, that was outrageous.”
