A War by Diplomacy Page 11

  “She provides maids?” Daphne asked in surprise.

  “Oh, yes. They are probably low-grade prostitutes, ones whom Mrs. O’Brien is training to become better companions. She pays them for the menial work with better opportunities and fees and possibly with lessons on how to attract and please men of quality.”

  “But if they are working as maids, why don’t they just get employment as maids?” Daphne asked.

  “They probably cannot get a good reference, or they have been with child or they just prefer the better pay and lighter work than most regular maids have. I don’t know for sure. Just what the documents say.” Mr. Longshank was blushing again, clearly unhappy about being questioned about the activities referred to in the documents.

  “So you are saying the there is no way out of the dilemma of owning the lease on ... on …,” Daphne again could not think of a word to describe what she was discovering.

  “A disorderly house?” supplied Mr. Longshanks.

  “Yes.”

  “Not that I can see. I imagine that the only way to do so would be to pay everyone very, very heavily – Lord Knockingdon, Mrs. O’Brien, and Mrs. Marsdon, at the least.”

  “I wonder how Lord Ashton got trapped in this spider’s web,” Daphne mused.

  “He was not really trapped, I suspect. The late Viscount Ashton was not a man of high moral character, my lady. He possibly became infatuated with Mrs. Marsdon and set up an arrangement with Mrs. O’Brien to keep her as his mistress. It is quite common, though the man still has to pay the bawd – the abbess --,” Mr. Longshank sought for the appropriate word seeing a look of bafflement on Daphne’s face, “the keeper of the … the brothel, in which Mrs. Marsdon worked as a courtesan before she took up with Viscount Ashton. Then when Viscount Ashton became short of funds, he probably thought he could get himself out of difficulties by becoming a whore-master himself only to find himself in even more of a financial pickle.”

  “How do you come to know so much about these matters, Mr. Longshank?” Daphne asked.

  “Ugh…ugh… well the firm I articled with – basically was apprenticed to – specialized in land problems, and quite a few of those problems involved matters of this sort. I got to know far more than I wanted to about the sporting life in London working on such problems. When I completed my time, the partners asked me to join the firm. This sort of work – on the more dubious uses of property -is usually very lucrative – disputes arise all the time – and it has been growing steadily, especially as more of these high class establishments have been moving into Mayfair and other areas. Not much of the quality trade still remains around Covent Garden or even St James’s now. I am, of course, referring only to the better class of establishments with only the best patrons.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Longshank. You have been very informative. I do not like getting landed with this situation. I don’t like it at all! And I thoroughly dislike the idea of enriching these creatures or Lord Knockingdon. The man seems to be a disgrace to the aristocracy and the country – as was, it seems, my brother-in-law. I am distressed, I can tell you, very, very distressed. I must think about the situation. Can you give me the documents, so that I can see if I may be able to see a way out?”

  “You are welcome to them, my lady. However, I am sure that you will find nothing. These papers were obviously drawn up by experts in this aspect of the law. I know myself that they are impervious to alteration or misinterpretation. They have woven a very tight net about not only Lord Ashton, but also about anyone who might inherit the lease from him. They certainly ensure that the arrangement will continue to the benefit of the other parties.”

  “I cannot believe that my husband is required to pay for and assist this…this…bawdy house. Surely there are laws against it. Aren’t there, Mr. Edwards?”

  “There are some, yes, some weak ones, but they are used only against establishments that are causing regular disturbances or are stepping on the toes of ones with influence. Houses like the one involved in this lease are protected by the illustrious nature of some of their clients who seem to regard the services they provide as being completely necessary”

  “Mr. Edwards is quite right,” broke in Mr. Longshank. “I am sure that the perpetrators are exempt from the law. Trying to bring them before the law would change nothing, but Lord Ashton would probably receive a fine for allowing dubious activities to proceed while the real villains get away scot free.”

  Daphne thought that she saw a fleeting smirk on Mr. Longshank’s face as he pronounced his opinion. She bid Mr. Edwards farewell as well as Mr. Longshank, rather warmer in the first instance than the second. Mr. Edwards arranged for her to take a sedan chair to the pier where she could take a wherry to Westminster Bridge. From there, he pointed out, she could get a hackney cab to her hotel.

  She was fuming all the way back to the St. James’s neighborhood about the insidious position in which his half-brother had placed her husband. She suspected that in amongst the convoluted language employed in the myriad of contracts there must be some way out. She was also dubious that Mr. Longshank would necessarily show it to her, even if he knew what it was, since he seemed to be heavily involved in such contracts and in the habit of adding much incomprehensible verbiage to legal documents. Furthermore, he seemed to be all too pleased with the trap in which Giles and she were caught.

  When Daphne returned to Nerot’s Hotel, she was in the process of arranging for dinner when Captain Bolton came into the hotel lobby. “Lady Ashton, what a pleasant surprise. Is Captain Giles here as well?”

  “No. I just saw him depart in his new ship to go to St. Petersburg. I stopped in London to complete some business.”

  “Then, can I persuade you to dine with me? I was just going to make arrangements here.”

  Daphne accepted the invitation at once. Captain Bolton had proved good company on her previous visit to London, and she might get a chance to find out about her husband from his naval friend. One somewhat annoying aspect of Giles’s character was that he spoke very little about his past doings and hastily turned the conversation when Daphne tried to pry from him more information about his naval life.

  Captain Bolton was a pleasant and talkative man. It was evident that he was in awe of Giles’s accomplishments. He had known him well in the West Indies when they had both been lieutenants and had crossed paths regularly in Port Royal and English Harbor.

  “He was always a very pleasant fellow,” Captain Bolton remarked at one point. “Not given to airs for being an earl’s son. Not that his family did anything for his career. We were all struck with how little influence he seemed to have. You know it is usually critical for advancement in the navy, so we thought he would have a leg up on us, but he didn’t. He got his step entirely because of his bravery and initiative in battle. He was made post for the same reason. We had many a good time ashore, though he was always a bit of a prude when it came to sailors’ pleasures. Indeed, very much a prude though he never actually condemned others for partaking. It was just that such activities did not appeal to him.”

  After their service in the West Indies, Captain Bolton and Giles had seen very little of each other, though it was evident that he had followed Giles’s subsequent career with admiration and apparently little jealousy. His own career had been much more pedestrian and he had only been made post captain recently and was still waiting for his first command in that rank. He remarked that he had received the promotion only after a furious and very bloody fight with a French privateer.

  Daphne expressed her horror at the carnage involved in naval warfare and recounted her own recent experiences when Glaucus had encountered Le Jour de Triomphe. Captain Bolton listened eagerly, like all naval captains relishing any tale of combat at sea. Daphne could not be very helpful on the details, since she had spent the time in the orlop helping with the wounded.

  “Were there many wounded or killed on Glaucus, my lady?” asked Captain Bolton.

  “Oh yes. It was awful, though the Frenc
h ship suffered far higher numbers.” Daphne recited the numbers whereupon she was startled when Captain Bolton burst out laughing.

  “I am sorry to laugh, Lady Giles. I know it is not funny, but Glaucus’s losses were amazingly small for an engagement between two evenly matched frigates. It just goes to show Captain Giles’s amazing ability to win naval battles. My own loses were very much larger, even though I commanded only a brig* and the French privateer was weaker than me.

  Daphne was becoming tired of naval conversation. She remembered how Captain Bolton and her niece, Catherine, had been drawn to each other, and decided to explore more details about him. He was the third son of a country parson in Norfolk. He had become enamored of a local woman and had thought that he could marry her when he was made a commander, but he had been immediately sent to sea and had not returned to England for several years, by which time she had married someone else. Now, as a post captain, who was being given a frigate that was undergoing a renewal of its copper at the Portsmouth Dockyard, he was very much in a position to marry. Especially, as he had been fortunate in the matter of prize money. Not nearly as much as Captain Giles, of course, but enough to allow him to set up a very comfortable establishment, even to buy a modest property suitable for a gentleman. Listening to all this, Daphne began to suspect that Catherine might have told him who in reality would grant permission for her to marry. When Giles was away, Daphne had all the power to take decisions in his absence. That applied to permitting Catherine to marry and guaranteeing a dowry.

  This reflection caused Daphne to recall her duties as someone with responsibilities for an unmarried relative. “Captain Bolton, to change the subject, Catherine was delighted that you showed her the paintings when she was here. You must know a great deal.”

  “Well, it is bit of a hobby with me, rather like your husband’s interest in agriculture I suppose.”

  “Dipton Hall, my home you know, has hardly any paintings that I like and we need to start collecting better ones. There are, of course, few experts in our area of the country. I wonder if I can persuade you to visit to give me advice on what might be suitable, and whether any of the existing ones have merit.”

  “I would be delighted to. It would have to be soon, however, before my ship is ready.”

  “Of course. I wonder if you are free for the next few days.”

  “Oh, yes, though I have some business I have to attend to in the morning. I am free after that. I could go to Dipton on the following day.”

  “Better yet, I also have engagements in the morning. You could come with me, in my coach, in the afternoon, if it is convenient. Of course, with Captain Giles away, I couldn’t put you up at Dipton Hall, but my father lives nearby and would be delighted to accommodate a friend of my husband.” Daphne had realized only at the last moment that it would not do to have Captain Bolton stay at Dipton Hall. One young gentleman in a house with several highly desirable young ladies would have tongues wagging without stop and all their reputations would be ruined. It might be disastrous for Lydia and Catherine, and it certainly would not help her endeavors to make sure that Captain Giles’s house was the leader of society in their area.

  “That would indeed be very convenient, Lady Ashton.”

  As she was getting ready for bed, it struck her that she really might have business to attend to before leaving London. Her original claim was based on nothing more than the desire not to let her trout off the hook. Now she realized how she could profitably spend the extra time in London. Her mind must have been playing with her problem of the lease all through the dinner with Captain Bolton. Now it was clear to her that she would have to examine the house in Arlington Street again to see if doing so would stir up some ideas on how to escape from the trap into which Giles and she had stumbled.

  She particularly recalled that Mr. Longshank mentioned that in some of the documents reference was made to special rooms that were to be used by Mrs. O’Brien’s minions. What was special about the services being rendered that they needed special rooms? Surely, for the purposes that Daphne was now convinced was the prime function of the house in Arlington Street, all that was needed was a bed and some furniture for hanging clothes and possibly a stand for washing materials. Maybe even some chairs and tables if the participants desired to indulge in drink and talk before engaging in the more carnal activities. Surely, that wasn’t enough to require special facilities that could be used by courtesans from other brothels. Come to think of it, Mr. Longshank had appeared to be very knowledgeable about the documents and treated their terms in a very off-hand manner. Furthermore, there had been that smirk of his that she couldn’t forget. Could he have been involved in drawing the documents up? How she would have preferred Ashton not to have died or rather, if he was going to do so, that he had made someone else his heir.

  “Betsy,” she said, “what do you know about prostitutes and the places they practice their trade?”

  “Oh, Lady Ashton, I’m a good girl.”

  “I know you are, Betsy. But I think all girls must whisper to each other about ones who are not good.”

  “Yes, I suppose we do, but we don’t know much about it.”

  “I don’t either though I am finding out more than I want to know. I don’t think there are any prostitutes at Dipton.”

  “Not anymore, my Lady.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you remember Sally Walker? She worked as a barmaid at the Dipton Arms. Elsie found out that for two shillings she would accommodate men in one of the rooms, and often she would spend the whole night with travelers for a fee. Elsie dismissed her without a reference when she found out about it, but it had been going on for some time when Tom Arbuckle was the landlord, Elsie told me. I heard that Sally was seen in Ameschester, looking for … for clients.”

  “I don’t really see why men would want to use women like them.”

  “My mum says that men are like dogs and are eager to mate with any woman who will let them. I just don’t know why the women would let them if they were not married. Even if they were paid. I wouldn’t!”

  Their discussion didn’t reduce Daphne’s puzzlement about why such improper activities occurred, but it did make her more aware of doings in her part of the world. She was not overly surprised to learn that prostitutes were to be found in London. Could it really be true that they were to be found in Ameschester or even in Dipton?

  Chapter XI

  Daphne had trouble falling asleep, partly because of some discomfort caused by the baby she was carrying, but more because she had been mulling over the questions about the leased property. She awoke ready to take the bull by the horns and deal with the lease problem. Unfortunately, a moment’s reflection suggested that the early hours of the morning might not be the best time to examine the house. She knew that debauched activities could go on to all hours of the night. After all, her brother-in-law had met his death while riding immediately after a night spent drinking and gambling. It was even unlikely that the maids who had been mentioned in one of the documents would start work at the crack of dawn, even though in Daphne’s experience that was the usual pattern for maids in the better houses in Dipton. Ten o’clock would probably be a suitable time to call. She would just have to find some other way to spend her time before that. It was infuriating that coffee shops would not serve women!

  Ten o’clock found Daphne, with Betsy in tow, knocking on the door of the house in Arlington Street. It was opened by the same flunky as before, though now he was not dressed in his showy livery and seemed rather uncomfortable in his movements. Her demand to see Mrs. Marsdon was met with a rather surly acquiescence, and a warning that it might take some time for Mrs. Marsdon to appear.

  That was only partly true. After about ten minutes, the doxy came into the parlor. She was dressed in a loose, semi-diaphanous wrap that left no doubt that time had not been kind to her figure. She still wore last night’s make up, but it could no longer hide the wrinkles in her complexion. Her rather elabora
te hair dress had become somewhat undone, with random, scrawny locks cascading in odd directions.

  “What are you doing here?” this apparition began obnoxiously. “Don’t you know that it is far too early to rouse a lady of pleasure? Come back later.”

  Daphne chose to ignore this. “I am here to inspect the premises. I have the authority of Viscount Ashton to make whatever arrangements are needed for this house because it is his leased property. I have every right to see all parts of the property whenever I want: the lease so states. I am doing you the courtesy of informing you of my intentions and to invite you to accompany me to explain anything that I may question. If you try to interfere, I will call the watch* and have you hauled up before the magistrates for running a disorderly house. I have no doubt that they will happily condemn you to Brideswell* Prison.”

  “You have no right to do any such thing. The documents guarantee that I am entitled to live here as long as I like.”

  “That is not quite what they say, just until a specified date in the future. I am not disputing that. I am simply noting that, of course, the leaseholder or his agent has not given up his rights to use and to determine the use of the house as long as the exact terms of those documents are fulfilled.”

  Daphne had no idea if any of this was correct, but she doubted that the strumpet in front of her had any better knowledge. She had no intention of letting her adversary take over the confrontation. “I have already seen this rather seedy room, now we will explore the rest of the house. You can have your lackey inform anyone else who is still in the house that I am coming. Any other doxies here can be warned to make themselves presentable, or I shall seriously consider having them treated as common whores.”

  Daphne marched across the hallway and opened the door to the room facing the parlor. It was set up for the entertainment of many people. At one end was a small stage with curtains that could be drawn across it. Around the room were scattered various settees, with cushions to encourage reclining and each with a good view of the stage.