The Earl And The Nightingale (Historical Regency Romance) Read online

  “Yes. Please announce me,” he said. “Jonathan Anderson-Reese, Earl of Yarmouth.”

  “Yes, your Lord,” said the half-witted butler. “Only she ain’t here.”

  “I see. When do you expect her to return?”

  “She ordered her things packed, your Lord.”

  “So, she has departed?”

  “Well, her things is being packed right now, if you must know, but she is still staying here. She left about an hour ago, and I don’t know her whereabouts at this moment.”

  “I see,” said Jonathan, and although he was crestfallen, he did not let the butler see his disappointment. “I shall stay until she returns.”

  “I’m sorry sir, but I cannot allow that.”

  “And why not?”

  “I’m in charge of the safety of this establishment and having lords and such hanging around is a danger. You’ll have to shove off then. My condolences, your Lord.”

  Jonathan had never been spoken to by a servant in this way before. He was stunned, of course, but he had no option, but to leave. He turned, got into the carriage, and asked Nathan to take him home.

  At the house on Wimpole Street, he entered with sadness. One of the worst things in the world is to lose someone by your own actions and not be able to do anything about it. The trouble was that this was a Sunday, and nobody was around to talk to him. Cecily had disappeared, and he suspected that she was carrying on with his friend Peter Nunn, who was in town for the weekend. And so, Jonathan was left to his own devices. He took off his hat and entered his drawing room.

  Imagine his shock to be met by Mademoiselle Garance Monteux, dressed in a sea-green gown of the most exquisite satin, with embroidery all around the hem, and a beautifully executed Empire waist, with long sleeves, covered by a stunning silk scarf that went around her delicate neck and wound around her arms right to her wrists. She was looking out the window and was just as shocked to see him as he was to see her.

  As he saw her, he realized she had also seen him, and let out a cry of surprise. Of course, being a singer, her sound was beautiful and extremely loud, making him step back in surprise.

  “Dear God!” he said, and then collected himself. He had so many things to say to Garance, and yet he was torn as well, having seen for himself the way she conducted herself when he was not there.

  “Jonathan!” she said, running toward him. “I must speak to you. Please do not make any assumptions before we speak, as I learned from your letter that you had been at my apartment when I was being accosted by the orchestra from the Royal Opera House. It must have looked frightful and most compromising. One of the violinists told me that you entered just as the conductor was beseeching me to appear in the Meyerbeer’s operas called Semiramide Riconosciuta. I had just told him that I do not perform in operas, particularly not those rackety Italian ones, and most particularly not those ones written by Germans! He was beseeching me and offering me the earth. It must have looked most indecorous, as I was seated on the chaise lounge, and it looked as though he were pitching woo!”

  Suddenly, Jonathan understood what had been happening and, although he was sure it was too late, given the terrible nature of his letter to her, and its accusations, he desperately wanted her back.

  “Oh, my dear Garance! How I misunderstood! How I accused you of terrible things. I am a cad and a rogue, and I cannot hope for forgiveness.”

  “You can ask, and you shall have it granted!” she said. “For I simply cannot live without you.”

  “Is this true?”

  “Of course. I am devoted to you as I have never been devoted to anyone before. I only want you and I shall stay here forever if only I can have you. And Jonathan, I know that you are impecunious, but that is no barrier to our love, for I have more than twenty thousand pounds in the French bank. I care nothing for money and would gladly give it all to you when we marry.”

  “I would never hear of it!” said Jonathan, realizing as he spoke that he was being proud in precisely the way Uriah Screed had warned him against. One cannot, however, change overnight, nor indeed, in a single day. He stood his ground and fingered the money in his pocket from the pocket watch.

  “That is the kindest thing I have ever heard,” he said still proud. “But I do not need your kind charity. I have a plan to regain my fortune. Will you join me?”

  “Not today, of course,” she said. “For I must perform at Covent Garden once again. This is my last performance and I understand it will be a command performance.”

  “Dear lady,” he said. “Surely, you have read the papers?”

  “Why no, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”

  “Because, my darling, I must inform you that the command performance will not happen tonight.”

  “Why ever not? I have never heard such a thing!”

  “Because, my love, the King is dead, and the Prince Regent has become King.”

  “All the more reason to perform, then!” she said.

  “Absolutely not,” said Jonathan. “He will be in mourning. In fact, the entire country will be in mourning, and the coronation will not happen for weeks.”

  “For months, actually,” said a voice behind him. Jonathan turned to see Cecily entering. “And I suppose you are The Parisian Nightingale?”

  “I have been so called,” Garance said, blushing.

  “I saw your performance a week ago. It was absolutely flawless. Wonderful. I am very glad to make your acquaintance. I’m Lady Cecily Anderson-Reese. Of course, my brother would never dream of introducing us, as he wants to keep you to himself. Is that not so, brother?”

  “Indeed, it is,” said Jonathan, smiling with relief. “In fact, Mademoiselle Garance Monteux, for that is her name, and I are just discussing tonight’s command performance at Covent Garden.”

  “Oh, that’s off. The King’s dead.”

  “You see?” said Jonathan, smiling at Garance.

  “I simply must find this out for myself,” she replied.

  “I shall have my carriage take you there. May I accompany you?”

  “Oh yes, please,” she said.

  Jonathan rang the bell, and Mrs. Porter appeared as if by magic. “Mrs. Porter, could you please summon Nathan and ask him to bring the carriage around the front of the house?”

  “Right away, My Lord,” she said, and disappeared. Although Jonathan could not be certain, he was fairly confident that Mrs. Porter had winked at Cecily as though the two of them had been colluding. However, it mattered not, and so he forgot about it.

  Moments later, the carriage pulled up in front of the Wimpole Street house, and Jonathan stepped out with Garance. “Please, Nathan,” he said. “Can you please take us to Covent Garden. The artist’s entrance.”

  “Right away, my Lord,” said Nathan, and they were off.

  Of course, the command performance was cancelled, and as Garance returned to the carriage, she smiled. “Free at last,” she said.

  “Are you interested in coming with me to the Crockford Club?” he said.

  “What for?”

  “Well, Garance, I need you. I need you to sing, but I have a problem.”

  “And what is the problem?” she said.

  “I cannot concentrate when you sing. It is simply too beautiful.”

  “Oh Jonathan!” she said, blushing. “You are too kind.”

  “It is literally true. I dreamed last night that I heard you singing, and I was drawn to you into the waters of the English Channel, and I was drowning ere I woke up.”

  “That is frightful.”

  “Yes, it is. But when I awoke, I realized that I could only love you if I could tame that passion, and I remembered the story of the great seafaring nobleman. Odysseus?”

  “No. I have never heard of this man.”

  “Ulysses, he is sometimes called.”

  “Ah yes, I know this person.”

  “Do you know the story of how he was lashed to a mast with wax in his ears, so he would not go mad?”

  “I
do,” she said, smiling. “So, are you planning on lashing yourself to the Pharaoh table?”

  “As a matter of fact, my love,” said Jonathan. “I shall not be playing that game at all. I shall be playing cribbage.”

  “Is this the game with the small board and the pegs?”

  “And the cards, yes. I am a very good player, and I believe that if you were there to distract with your heavenly singing, and I am able, somehow, to concentrate and use my mathematical skills, I could win quite a lot, and quite handily. Do you have faith in my skills, and your powers?”

  “I believe, my love, that we can do anything. But may I enquire as to how much you have to play with?”

  “Well, I received one hundred pounds from Uriah Screed in exchange for my watch…”

  “You gave away your watch? To a man named Uriah Screed?”

  “Yes, he is an American. Very brusque, but quite believable.”

  “Oh Jonathan. I hope you are correct. Still, I am terribly worried. But one hundred pounds, played judiciously, could net you a tidy sum.”

  “Yes, I know. I have been playing penny crib for many years, and I believe if I played pound for pound the same way, I should be able to increase the fortune over a period of one month.”

  “ Jonathan, how much time do you have to acquire this money?

  “I have until the end of February.”

  “I see. So, you have to raise twenty-five thousand pounds in just one month. That means you need to be half-way there by the fourteenth.”

  “Yes, that is the festival of St. Valentine.”

  “In France, this is the day for lovers. Saint Valentin,” said Garance.

  “It is here as well,” said Jonathan. “Although if the truth were told, I need only one day to double the money, as long as I am sure I can win. So, I have until February twenty-seventh.”

  “Ah, but no, Jonathan! That is one day before the last day of February!”

  “It is, in fact so, as there are twenty-eight days in that month. Let us remember that!”

  “Indeed,” said Garance.

  “Shall we go to this place? I propose to try to win four hundred pounds tonight. Do you think I can do it?”

  “In truth, I do not know. But there is but one way to find out. Let’s go!”

  “Nathan!” a very excited Jonathan yelled out the carriage window. Nathan quickly dismounted concerned for his Lord.

  “What is the trouble, My Lord?” asked Nathan.

  “I need you to take us to Crockford’s Club.”

  “Is that the one on St. James Street in Piccadilly?”

  “Have you been?”

  “Have I what, My Lord?”

  “I said, have you been there, Nathan?”

  “Well, I can’t say for sure, My Lord, but I believe I might have popped in once or twice.”

  “I see. Well, can you tell me if the place is fashionable or somewhat disreputable?”

  “I’d rather not say, My Lord.” Nathan quickly returned to his seat on the carriage and took Jonathan and Garance back to Jonathan’s home.

  While Garance waited in the drawing room, Jonathan spruced up his attire, and donned a winter cloak, as well as a walking stick. What Garance did not know was that he had also put the pistol his father had left behind in his waistband. He wanted no trouble, but he also did not want to be taken advantage of. This decision was arrived at due to Nathan’s comments. In Jonathan’s mind, if a carriage driver would go there, the company may well be quite rough, and he had no desire to be taken advantage of by a driver.

  When the carriage came around, Nathan looked uncomfortable, but said not a word, and he and Garance stepped into the carriage, and rode in quiet, nervously watching one another. Garance admired his noble silhouette as he sat beside her. He knew at that glance that she loved him deeply, although she was still afraid to say the words to him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Tiger Alley

  It was less than ten minutes’ ride, and as Nathan pulled up in front of the establishment, which was, as it had been a few days before, distinctly like a gentleman’s club, with the exception of the whores who were plying their trade outside the doors. As they arrived, several of the young ladies of the night greeted Nathan in a distinctly familiar tone. Garance said nothing, but Nathan, blushing, kept his eyes on the ground.

  Jonathan looked at Nathan. “Listen, my good man,” he said, in a hushed tone. “I am no stranger to temptation. However, this night, I will need your full concentration. I shall give you a sovereign if you can be sure to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice in case of trouble.”

  “What are you going to be doing?”

  “Playing cribbage,” said Jonathan, seriously.

  Nathan burst out laughing. “My Lord, I assure you, you won’t need no muscle. Have you seen who plays that old man’s game?”

  “That is hardly the point, my good man,” he replied. “It is a serious business, and I will need your vigilance. Do you understand?”

  “Fine. I shall be on me toes.”

  “Good man, Nathan.”

  Jonathan led Garance into the main room, in which the Pharaoh tables were loudly giving people the excitement of winning and the disappointment of losing. He was sorely tempted to return to these tables, because the attraction of winning large sums was simply too much. Garance, though, had more confidence in his abilities.

  “Jonathan,” she said quietly. “I think this is a very likely place for you to win large sums, considering your superior abilities.”

  “You do? What abilities?”

  “Your facility with mathematics, my love,” she said.

  Jonathan smiled, and nodded. He moved closer to one of the tables where an old, but wealthy-looking fellow was seated and lit one of the cigars he had purchased earlier. “Looking for an opponent?” he asked in a jovial manner.

  “I beg your pardon?” said the old man with a pronounced Scottish brogue. He coughed and blew the smoke from Jonathan’s cigar away with his hand.

  “Are you playing?”

  “Aye. Well then sit thee doon, then,” he said gruffly.

  Garance watched as Jonathan took an instant dislike to him. “Perhaps not just now,” he said, reconsidering.

  “Garance,” said Jonathan softly. “Do you not think it wise to observe the proceedings for a few games?”

  “I think you are brilliant,” she said, clutching his bicep, admiring his intelligence and his beauty.

  “I really just want to understand what I am getting myself into,” he said.

  “You not man enough to play a real cribbage player?” said the old Scot in a condescending tone and looking at Garance.

  “Now see here, my good man,” said Garance with some annoyance. “My husband is a new player, and we believe it is prudent to get what you English call the ‘lay of the land’ before he dives in. You can play someone else, and he shall join you presently.”

  “I don’t much like a coward,” said the gruff old Scot.

  Jonathan considered threatening him, but as he looked around, he began to notice that certain people clearly had their jobs cut out for them. “That is of no interest to me,” he replied, blowing a smoke cloud in the man’s face. He had read a little about the denizens of these underworldly establishments. From his memory he knew a few of their jobs.

  “Do you know how to make sure this is not dangerous?” asked Garance, who noticed that nobody was paying her any mind.

  “A little. Let’s see if I can figure it out. Here we are: of course, you can see that there is an Operator, or a Dealer at the Pharaoh table. And there is the Director of the whole area, as you can see.”

  “How can I see?”

  “That man who is hanging around and rather overdressed.”

  “Ha! The one with the lorgnette?”

  “The very one. He is using them to oversee the games and make sure the operator is doing it all correctly. He would also be watching the players and the other workers.”

/>   “Are they not all players?”

  “Do you see those two chaps with the rather rumpled looking hats? They are watching to make sure the players do not cheat. They are called Crowpees, I believe.”

  “Do you mean croupiers?”

  “Well yes, but in this particular configuration, they are actually not doing the job of a croupier, but rather as a sort of lookout. These chaps do not really make money, you understand. They simply get paid in free food and a drink at the end of the night.”