Death and the Cyprian Society Read Online Free PDF Page A

And with head held high, she turned from St. James’s Street onto St. James’s Place, where the welcoming façade of the future Cyprian Society seemed to wink a welcome as she mounted the steps.
     
    Few, if any, historical periods have produced such classic, elegant interiors as those of the English Regency, with its polished woods; clear, pale colors; graceful furniture; and large, sunny windows. The Cyprian Society was to be the epitome of Regency refinement, because Arabella would rather not have had a club at all than possess one which failed in its attempt to gratify the most sophisticated expectations. To this purpose, she had retained the services of John Soane, the great architect who had designed the Bank of England and so wonderfully remodeled Lustings. But Arabella’s own house was modest in comparison to this project, which was expected to generate more income. Besides, Mr. Soane had professed himself forever in her debt, and was donating his services free of charge. She would still have to pay for everything else, though.
    Soane had been watching out for her, and the moment Arabella entered, the great man darted out like a trapdoor spider, bundling her into the small glass booth he was using as an office.
    “I have had a most remarkable inspiration, Miss Beaumont!” he cried. “What would you say if I told you that your public rooms might be accessed from the next street over, through the rear of the club?”
    Arabella was shocked.
    “From the rear entrance? From Little St. James’s Place, d’you mean? Oh, surely, Mr. Soane, that would never do! The public rooms must have a grand and sumptuous entrance, to satisfy the most exacting tastes!”
    “Naturally! That is why I propose to make the rear entrance look like another front entrance, with columns, marble steps . . . the lot!”
    “Just like the other?”
    “No,” he replied, rubbing his hands with glee. “ As fine, certainly, but altogether different! The Cyprian Society shall have two front entrances, and no rear portal! Deliveries can be made via the side doors!”
    She was not at once convinced of the necessity for this, but Arabella had complete faith in her architect.
    “I am listening, Mr. Soane.”
    He took up a blueprint and unrolled it upon the table, using his pencil like a magic wand to guide her eye along the enchanted paths of his imagination.
    “Once the public enters through here, they will walk along this corridor, which runs the length of the structure, to the public rooms, completely bypassing the private club quarters. We can construct the passage so as to absorb all sound; members who are reading or napping on the other side of the wall will not be disturbed in the least.”
    “Oh!” breathed Arabella. “This is absolute perfection!”
    He smiled at her as he rolled up the blueprint. “All in a day’s work, madam. And the very least I could do, after the kindness you have shewn to me.”
    Arabella nodded her acknowledgment of his thanks. During the previous autumn, she had sailed to Italy and achieved the near-impossible feat of discovering and then recovering a group of bronze and marble artifacts, which had been “stolen” after she and Mr. Soane had already paid for them. The marbles were currently the pride of his collection: a frieze of ducks; a pair of lizards; and the statue of a young girl, absorbed in the act of pinning her gown.
    “I thought this might interest you, as well,” said Soane, unrolling another chart. Arabella saw an elevation of the hotel, depicting what looked like giant ant tunnels excavated beneath it.
    “Yes,” he cried, scarcely able to contain his enthusiasm, “it is a series of tunnels, leading off in a variety of directions! Your new club was once the site of an ancient monastery! But I have not yet given orders for the tunnels’ exploration, pending your approval: If you wish, I could simply have the entrance closed off, which would save you money. Or, we could see where the