Royal Revels Read Online Free PDF Page A

aunt, while the aunt saw no reason for Belami to trot his team along at such a wickedly fast pace. She preferred eight miles an hour, and, with a bit of ice on the roads as there was today, six seemed a more ladylike speed.
    Pronto Pilgrim was miffed that Dick hadn’t invited him along. After all the sprees they had been on together, why was he left out now? But that’s how it would be once Belami was hitched. By the living jingo, it would serve him well if Deirdre caught him with the lightskirt.
    The unhappiest person of all on the trip was Pierre Réal, Belami's groom. A dashing trip along icy highways was balm to his soul, but to inch along, holding in the grays all the way, gave a bitter foretaste of how marriage would change things.
    Matters did not improve much when the first two carriages reached Marine Parade. Unalerted to their master’s arrival, the servants had no fires laid upstairs and insufficient food in the larder to please that excellent trencherman, the duchess. Her bedroom was inhumanly cold, but she had the bed heated and remained in it, rolled in blankets, till food was brought in and cooked, and the drawing room made habitable by a roaring fire.
    Pronto, on the other hand, found the Old Ship so warm and convivial that he decided he would delay his own private investigations till the next morning.
    Deirdre amused herself by looking over one of her future homes and planning renovations. She was much too happy and excited to mind the cold.
    After Belami had spoken to his servants, he changed his shirt and cravat and went to call on Lady Gilham, to get the minor detail of her blackmail out of the way. The address was the corner of the Dyke Road and North Street. It was not a fashionable part of town, but the house was a decent brick building of modest proportions. He knew he should have written first asking for permission to call, but when one is the prince’s emissary, permission seemed unnecessary. A dark-suited male servant answered the door. This was in keeping with the establishment, not a liveried butler but not a female servant either.
    The door to the saloon was closed, but he heard voices from within, a woman and a man speaking in low tones. A curled beaver hat and a pair of York tan gloves sat on the hall table. He smiled to see that the lady already had another suitor on the line and regretted that he was apparently not well to grass. The nap of the hat was worn around the edges and one finger of the gloves was out.
    He handed the butler his card and said that he was not expected, but that he had a message from the Royal Pavilion. The butler carefully showed him into another waiting room and closed the door, depriving him of a view of the other gentleman, who was heard taking his leave immediately. All the view he had from the keyhole was of a pair of dark breeches.
    Belami darted to the window to try for a look as the man left, but the butler came at once to the door and called him. He was very curious to see what sort of female had attracted Prinney.
    His usual flirts were plump, aging, managing women with a superficial softness concealing a spine of iron. They invariably led him by the nose, procuring favors for themselves and their families. Belami had a mental picture of another such specimen. She wouldn’t actually be an intelligent woman, but she’d be clever, cunning. He’d have to tread lightly to outwit her.
    The servant opened the door into the saloon, and Belami beheld a woman much like the one he had been imagining. She might be any middle-aged, respectable matron. Prinney liked them respectable-looking. She wore a dark evening gown, displaying a plump collarbone and round, dimpled arms. As his eyes moved up to her face, he found himself being closely examined by a pair of very sharp blue eyes.
    “Lady Gilham,” he said, and bowed.
    “You are mistaken, sir. I am Lady Gilham’s companion, Mrs. Morton. Lady Gilham is indisposed this evening. I shall be happy to relay any