Page 6 of House of Thorns
Olivia arrived at Louisa’s carriage only to be told by the coachman that she’d already left Wedderburn Manor in the company of Lord Randall. She lifted a brow, recalling Lady Kendrick’s chimney sweep comment. Perhaps, Louisa didn’t know of the man’s black temper?
“She left the carriage at your disposal, Miss,” the coachman said, and hopped down to hand her in. “Where to?”
Olivia suppressed a sigh. She was sore tempted to return straight home, but such an act was a poor way to repay Louisa’s generosity. Besides, she couldn’t afford to offend the woman—not when she relied on her so heavily to sing her father’s songs.
“Louisa’s townhouse, please,” she forced out.
With a sigh, she settled onto the leather seat. This visit would have to be a short one, bordering on scandalous. Olivia quirked her lip. If anyone, Louisa shouldn’t mind; she and scandal lived hand-in-hand.
The late afternoon sun slanted over Glasgow’s rooftops as the carriage rolled up to Louisa’s townhouse. Olivia dashed through the carriage door and up the narrow walkway before the horses had barely clopped to a stop.
The dour maid greeted her with a surly nod. “Miss Louisa is in the drawing room, Miss.” She nodded over her shoulder. “That way. Last door on the left.”
Tugging the fingers of her gloves, Olivia guided herself down the narrow hall.
Muffled laughter penetrated the closed drawing room door. Olivia discerned at least a dozen voices—maybe more. She hesitated with a hand on the doorknob. Would Louisa even notice her absence? She’d half turned away when the door suddenly opened.
She couldn’t see who opened the door. They vanished behind it in a rustle of silk. The room was dark. Louisa had drawn the thick brocade drapes over the windows, blocking nearly all light from seeping into the room. Only a thin line of grey sunlight filtered through at the very top. Then, her eyesight adjusted to the dim light.
She’d never been to a bordello, but she couldn’t imagine it would look much different than the scandalous scene before her. Shamefully dressed women lounged next to high ranking society men on overstuffed couches, men Olivia often saw in Glasgow Green, strolling with their wives and children. Their wives would be furious to see them now, sprawled at these women’s sides, nuzzling their necks or kissing them outright. Several had their hands down the front of the women’s gowns, fondling their bosoms.
Olivia pursed her lips. She’d obviously erred in accepting Louisa’s offer. The sooner she left, the better. She stepped back when the brocade drapes shifted, enough to let a shaft of sunlight slip through.
She saw the woman’s face first, or the bottom half, anyway. Her lips parted to accept a spoonful of something from a crystal glass, a lemon ice, perhaps. The man leaned forward, dragging the spoon over the woman’s lip in a way that made Olivia exceedingly uncomfortable. Then the man’s face entered the beam of light.
Olivia drew back, shocked.
It was Mr. Pitt, owner of the Theatre Royale. Lord save her, she was as good as ruined if the man saw her here.
She turned and fled down the hall. She nearly collided with Louisa as she rounded the corner.
“Heavens, what happened?” Louisa gasped.
“Mr. Pitt,” Olivia hissed, rattled. “Louisa, youknowhe can’t see me here.”
“Oh, don’t be such a nitwit.” Louisa rolled her eyes and gave a tisk of disapproval. She’d changed into a shockingly lowcut, pink silk gown and had loosened her hair, letting the locks fall in curls over her bare shoulders. “Surely, you know there’s only one thing keeping you from that loan?”
Olivia scowled. “Must you bring up Timothy now?” She’d been so distracted by her cousin that she’d scarcely remembered Timothy in the garden—or, for that matter, the mysterious stranger.
“Timothy?” Louisa’s eyes widened with surprise. “Are you truly that dense?”
Olivia’s scowl deepened. Whatever was the woman going on about? A husband was the only thing that prevented the banker from releasing her much-needed funds.
Louisa arched a perfectly plucked brow, then she grabbed Olivia by the arm and stepped forward, as if to pull her back to the drawing room.
Olivia twisted free from her grasp. “I’d much rather go home, Louisa. It’s high time I checked on father. He gets upset if I’m gone too long.”
Louisa planted her hands on her ample hips. “Mrs. Lambert is watching him, is she not?”
“Of course, but I can’t afford to pay her the entire day.”
Louisa pointed down the hall at the drawing room door. “If you trotted down the hall and let Mr. Pitt have his way with you, you’d havemorethan enough to pay Mrs. Lambert every day of the week.”
“Pardon?”
“Oh, don’t play the part of a fool, Olivia.” Louisa eyed her incredulously. “Come now, surely, you can’t say you didn’t know?”
“Didn’t know?” She hadn’t, but she was certainly beginning to understand now.
