Page 28 of Restored

Mabel waved her hand dismissively. “I see you,” she said. “And you ain’t no tom cat, Kit Redford. Far from it.”

“I’m no lad either,” Kit said. “I’m one-and-forty.”

She snorted at that too, but didn’t dignify it with an answer.

“I’ll tell you whohasbeen hanging around me, though,” Kit said, in a blatant effort to distract her attention.

She tilted her head to the side, interested now. It made her look disconcertingly like the parrot on her shoulder. “Who?”

“Jake Sharp,” Kit divulged. “I told you he opened that new gambling den near the club, didn’t I?”

“Lenny Sharp’s boy?” Mabel’s eyebrows rose. “Interested, is he?” Nell Gwyn began to nibble her ear, whistling softly. Absently, Mabel scratched the bird’s head.

“He’s interested in something,” Kit said. “But I think it’s the club rather than me.”

“Hmmm,” Mabel said, digging absently into the reticule again and bringing out another walnut. “You may be right.” When Kit laughed, she added, “Not that I don’t think you’re worth being interested in for yourself, lovey, but the Sharps… Well, the name says it all, don’t it?”

“You’re not wrong,” Kit agreed.

“Mightn’t be a bad idea to get rid of the club, though, you know,” Mabel added, looking away to offer the walnut to Nell Gwyn. The bird took it gently.

“What do you mean?” Kit said.

“Well, you don’t want to be running that place forever, do you? You used to always say that you’d build it up, sell it, and retire to the country.”

Kit quirked a half-smile. “I did used to say that.”

“Don't you want that anymore?” Mabel asked curiously.

Kit sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. I used to imagine myself setting up as a gentleman farmer or some such thing. But now I realise—well, I wouldn’t have the first idea what to do. I’m more of an alley cat than a farmyard one.”

“Pah!If you’ve got money you’ll be fine. You can always buy expertise. But whatever you decide to do, my advice would be to consider selling up sooner rather than later. I wish I’d stopped earlier—if I’d got out five years before I did, I’d’ve avoided that business with Jem Bailey and been able to sell out for twice or three times as much.”

Mabel had hired Jem Bailey as a doorman for the Lily. He’d been a hot-headed sort. After deciding he was in love with one of the girls, he'd assaulted a wealthy customer who’d been enjoying her favours on the premises. The incident had brought all sorts of trouble to Mabel’s door, and she’d ended up selling the Lily for a sum she’d always insisted was considerably less than its true worth.

“Look at it this way,” Mabel said. “The value of your club ain’t going up any more. You can’t go bigger without losing members—it’s the fact that it’s discreet that they like. You should get out now, while the going’s good.” She shrugged and the sudden movement made Nell Gwyn flap and squawk for a few moments before settling down again. “I reckon you’ll do nicely if you’re smart about it, but I’d be quick if I were you. Especially now there’s a Sharp hanging about. From what I remember of old Lenny Sharp, if you didn’tgivehim what he wanted when he asked, he wouldn’t wait too long before taking it without your blessing.”

“I’ll think about it,” Kit promised.

“You do that,” Mabel replied. “Now, tell me what all the gossip is, and don’t hold back.”

8

Henry

On Thursday evening Reid called in at Curzon Street as promised.

“Well, your grace,” he said, once they’d greeted one another and sat down, “I have some information for you, if not the whole answer quite yet.”

“That’s good,” Henry said. “You did not seem hopeful of that earlier.”

“There are some things that can be quite quickly established.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the fact that the owner of the house has not changed in twenty years.”

Henry stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”