The Christmas Strike. Nikki Rivers

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СКАЧАТЬ view of small clubs like the Vitus. His losses had, in effect, caused his death. He had sold his carriages and horses and his hunters, and been thrown by a devilish animal with an evil eye, the best mount he could afford.

      “So no one should deal in the selling of wine or spirits and thus incite drunkenness and delirium tremens?” remarked Kelsey smoothly as he walked to the centre of what must be his parlour-cum-dining room.

      Leonora, unwilling to confide her true reasons for her antagonism, chose to ignore this irrelevance while busily occupying herself with looking about. The room was tastefully decorated and comfortably furnished with armchairs. The dining table was small, large enough only for intimate dinners. He would not eat here often, she supposed, he would take his meals in the Club. A side board held an array of decanters and glasses. Leonora could not fault the condition of the place.

      “The bedroom is through here,” said Kelsey smoothly, opening a communicating door leading to the back room.

      Not to be hurried or intimidated, Leonora finished her survey of the room she was in before walking through with her chin in the air. Clarissa, reared in the genteel confines of a rectory, held back. Kelsey, a hand in the small of her back, guided her through. Clarissa’s colour flared. Her colourless lashes fluttered, revealing and then hiding the pale blue eyes raised to meet the Earl’s.

      Turning, Leonora felt a small shock run through her. Clarissa was flirting with his lordship! Her voice, therefore, was sharp as she called for her attention.

      “Miss Worth! I hope you have continued to make notes?”

      “I did not realise that there was anything to write,” said Clarissa placidly. “You have found no other fault, I believe?”

      “No. But that fact must be recorded, too. Hall, parlour and bedroom are all in excellent order.”

      “I am glad you find them so, madam,” came Kelsey’s rather amused voice. She had scarcely glanced at the bedroom and in her hurry had ignored the middle-aged gentleman’s gentleman occupied in tidying his master’s clothes beside a cubicle containing a cupboard and washstand, and he knew it. He might not intimidate her, but his huge canopied bed did.

      “There are other rooms on this floor, I believe,” Leonora said, making speedily for the door to the hall.

      Kelsey followed her out of his bedroom, a small smile denting one corner of his mobile mouth. He crossed to the door next that of his office. “Only one. This is Sinclair’s room. I have arranged with him that you should be admitted.”

      Leonora merely raised her brows at this piece of nonsense. She had every right to be admitted!

      Kelsey knocked. A voice bade them enter.

      Sinclair had risen and met them near the door, his manner almost effusive.

      “Good morning, Miss Vincent. I believe you wish to inspect my room?”

      Leonora gave him her sweetest smile. “I merely wish to discover the general condition of the part of the building Lord Kelsey rents,” she explained.

      “Then you must be quite reassured,” observed Sinclair, returning her smile and transferring it to Kelsey as a grin. “He is most particular and Mrs Parkes is an able housekeeper.”

      “Your apartment looks comfortable, clean and well-decorated,” observed Leonora. “You are well suited here?”

      “Indeed, madam, I am happy in my accommodation and my association with his lordship. As you can see, he has provided me with every comfort. Is there anything else you wish to know?”

      “I think not,” said Leonora, noting that he had a small desk in his room, at which he had been working, as well as a dining table and chairs, a well-stocked side board, several armchairs and a narrow bed behind a screen in one corner. “Thank you, Mr Sinclair. Miss Worth, note only that there is a little paint peeling from the window frame.”

      “There is?” murmured Kelsey, his brows rising. “You did not tell me, Sinclair.”

      “I thought the matter too trifling,” said the manager.

      They all dutifully inspected a small area near the sill where the paint had flaked.

      “Strictly, it is,” said the Earl. “But I will undertake to have it touched up. And now, madam, if you are satisfied with this floor, we can mount the stairs to see those rooms I use for the Club. I fear we must not linger, for the doors will open in half an hour. I will lead the way.”

      “Very well.”

      This flight of stairs was wider than the next one leading up to her rooms, as she had already noted. It was usual, of course, for stairs to become narrower the higher they climbed. She became even more determined to gain possession of the lower rooms, particularly the main rooms served by the wider staircase, as soon as possible. Otherwise, how was she ever to receive?

      “This is the Dining Room,” he said, ushering them into one of the back rooms through an already half-open door. “But you may even think that selling food holds out the danger of encouraging gluttony?”

      He wanted to throw ridicule on her views. The question in his voice held the ring of irony. Leonora shook an angry head.

      “Pray do not be absurd,” she snapped. “If a man chooses to drink or eat himself to death, he does not necessarily leave his family bereft of anything but his presence. A man who is stripped, of intent, of all he owns and dies deeply in debt, leaves a destitute family. There is a difference.”

      There was a considering look in the slate-grey eyes. Leonora flushed again, conscious that she may have given away more of her past than she had intended.

      He bowed. “I give you best, madam. A prudent, honest gentleman will have a care for others. It is the imprudent who find themselves with pockets to let, be it through over-indulgence in the good things of life or in gambling.”

      “Imprudent? Maybe.”

      Leonora stood by one of the circular tables, her fingers smoothing the polished mahogany surface. Her father, for one, had not in general behaved rashly. She collected her scattered thoughts and looked about her.

      Like others of its size the table was set about with four padded chairs. Some were meant only for two, one for a larger party. White damask cloths were already in course of being spread and cutlery placed in position. The clatter of continuing activity distracted her for a moment.

      She realised that it would be pleasant to eat in this room, with its buff walls divided into panels outlined in blue, while above gold leaf and blue paint decorated the wide cornice. A gilt—it could scarcely be gold—chandelier holding dozens of candles and dripping with crystal hung from the centre. Rich damask curtains matched the blue and gold chair seats.

      She stirred, only now ready to finish what she had begun to say. “But gambling is like a fever. The compulsion can be caught; once in its grip, an individual is helpless until the bout is over.”

      “The addictive compulsion to alcohol is equally deadly, Miss Vincent, particularly for the poor, where families starve because the father spends what little he earns on drink. Yet alehouses remain open and merchants continue to peddle spirits without rousing condemnation. I see no reason why I should be damned for providing the facilities for gentlemen СКАЧАТЬ