female readers hungered for: a woman's inside view of a world normally forbidden to them—to the respectable ones, at any rate.
This was true. It wasn't the only reason, though, and it wasn't the reason Lydia had chosen Jerrimer's.
She'd heard rumors that the place did a side trade in stolen goods. Since none of her informants had thus far learned anything about Tamsin's keepsakes from the usual fences, it made sense to try other sources.
Tamsin had not agreed that it made sense. "You've already wasted a fortnight looking for my jewelry," she'd chided Lydia this evening. "You have much more important issues to pursue, on behalf of people who truly need help. When I think about Mary Bartles, I'm thoroughly ashamed of the tears I shed over a lot of stones and metal."
Lydia had assured her that the main project was getting the gambling hell story.
If she happened upon news of the jewelry in the process, so much the better, but she would not actively pursue the matter.
Not that one could "actively pursue" much of anything in a stiff cage of buckram and whalebone, she thought as she turned to inspect the back of her disguise in the glass.
"You'll be in a good deal of trouble if anyone discovers you're not a man,"
Helena said.
Lydia moved to the dressing table. "It's merely a gambling club. The customers Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion
heed nothing but the cards, dice, or roulette wheel. And the owners and employees will be watching their money." From the jumbled assortment of cosmetics, scent bottles, and jewelry she unearthed the cigar Ainswood had given her and tucked it into an inside pocket. Looking up, she met Helena's worried gaze. "I was in more danger interviewing prostitutes in the Ratcliffe Highway, yet you weren't anxious then."
"That was before you began behaving so oddly." Helena moved to the chiffonier, upon which the maid had set a tray bearing a brandy decanter and two glasses.
"Until very recently, you controlled your temper better. And used more finesse in handling those who dared disagree with you." She lifted the decanter and poured. "Your dust-up with Crenshaw, on the other hand, reminds me of the fight you had with a street arab because he called Sarah names and made her cry.
You were eight years old at the time."
Lydia approached to take the glass Helena held out to her. "I overreacted with Crenshaw, perhaps."
"Thwarted desire can make one overemotional," Helena said with a small smile.
"I've been irritable myself these last few weeks. I usually am, between lovers."
"I'll admit my desire to do murder to certain persons is thwarted by the present penal codes."
"I meant sexual desire, as you well know," Helena said. "The instinct to mate.
And reproduce."
Lydia drank, eyeing her friend over the glass's rim.
"Ainswood is exceedingly handsome," Helena went on. "He has brains as well as brawn. Not to mention a smile that could make roses bloom in an Arctic winter.
The trouble is, he's also the kind of libertine who despises women. We females have but one use, and once used, we're worthless. If he's awakened any thoughts Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion
of straying from virtue's path, Lyddy, I recommend you stray with a substitute.
You might consider Sellowby. He doesn't hold women in contempt, and you definitely intrigue him. You've only to crook your little finger."
To Lydia's knowledge, no whore in London commanded a higher price than Helena did, and for very good reason. She could size up a man in an instant and respond accordingly, becoming the woman of his dreams. Her advice was not to be taken lightly.
Lydia couldn't consider the recommended substitute, however, because she knew why Lord Sellowby was "intrigued" with her.
London's champion gossip had noticed Lydia among the crowd of journalists camped in front of St. George's on Dain's wedding day. Days later, Sellowby had told Helena about glimpsing a female who "might have stepped out of the ancestral portrait gallery at
This was true. It wasn't the only reason, though, and it wasn't the reason Lydia had chosen Jerrimer's.
She'd heard rumors that the place did a side trade in stolen goods. Since none of her informants had thus far learned anything about Tamsin's keepsakes from the usual fences, it made sense to try other sources.
Tamsin had not agreed that it made sense. "You've already wasted a fortnight looking for my jewelry," she'd chided Lydia this evening. "You have much more important issues to pursue, on behalf of people who truly need help. When I think about Mary Bartles, I'm thoroughly ashamed of the tears I shed over a lot of stones and metal."
Lydia had assured her that the main project was getting the gambling hell story.
If she happened upon news of the jewelry in the process, so much the better, but she would not actively pursue the matter.
Not that one could "actively pursue" much of anything in a stiff cage of buckram and whalebone, she thought as she turned to inspect the back of her disguise in the glass.
"You'll be in a good deal of trouble if anyone discovers you're not a man,"
Helena said.
Lydia moved to the dressing table. "It's merely a gambling club. The customers Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion
heed nothing but the cards, dice, or roulette wheel. And the owners and employees will be watching their money." From the jumbled assortment of cosmetics, scent bottles, and jewelry she unearthed the cigar Ainswood had given her and tucked it into an inside pocket. Looking up, she met Helena's worried gaze. "I was in more danger interviewing prostitutes in the Ratcliffe Highway, yet you weren't anxious then."
"That was before you began behaving so oddly." Helena moved to the chiffonier, upon which the maid had set a tray bearing a brandy decanter and two glasses.
"Until very recently, you controlled your temper better. And used more finesse in handling those who dared disagree with you." She lifted the decanter and poured. "Your dust-up with Crenshaw, on the other hand, reminds me of the fight you had with a street arab because he called Sarah names and made her cry.
You were eight years old at the time."
Lydia approached to take the glass Helena held out to her. "I overreacted with Crenshaw, perhaps."
"Thwarted desire can make one overemotional," Helena said with a small smile.
"I've been irritable myself these last few weeks. I usually am, between lovers."
"I'll admit my desire to do murder to certain persons is thwarted by the present penal codes."
"I meant sexual desire, as you well know," Helena said. "The instinct to mate.
And reproduce."
Lydia drank, eyeing her friend over the glass's rim.
"Ainswood is exceedingly handsome," Helena went on. "He has brains as well as brawn. Not to mention a smile that could make roses bloom in an Arctic winter.
The trouble is, he's also the kind of libertine who despises women. We females have but one use, and once used, we're worthless. If he's awakened any thoughts Loretta Chase - The Last Hellion
of straying from virtue's path, Lyddy, I recommend you stray with a substitute.
You might consider Sellowby. He doesn't hold women in contempt, and you definitely intrigue him. You've only to crook your little finger."
To Lydia's knowledge, no whore in London commanded a higher price than Helena did, and for very good reason. She could size up a man in an instant and respond accordingly, becoming the woman of his dreams. Her advice was not to be taken lightly.
Lydia couldn't consider the recommended substitute, however, because she knew why Lord Sellowby was "intrigued" with her.
London's champion gossip had noticed Lydia among the crowd of journalists camped in front of St. George's on Dain's wedding day. Days later, Sellowby had told Helena about glimpsing a female who "might have stepped out of the ancestral portrait gallery at
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