The Sleeping Partner Read Online Free PDF

anxious to please. He hasn’t Matt’s spine.”
    “If Harry had been pimped out at dockside as a boy, as Matt was, I don’t doubt he would have more spine, aunt. And even Matt worried from time to time that you would banish him to die as a bum-boy in the Cheapside stews.”
    Mrs. Brereton clicked her tongue. “Don’t use slang, Sarah. ‘Tis common. Harry grew up in Lambeth; he has had no experience of the harsher side of our business. At least he is not given to temperament or complaint. That,” Mrs. Brereton said flatly, “would get him only a trip to Mother Poke’s molly house.”
    Miss Tolerance sipped her tea and considered Harry’s spine. At last she spoke on a different subject altogether. “I have a new task today.”
    “Task?” Mrs. Brereton raised an eyebrow. “An assignment? Is it something you may speak about?”
    “As always, ma’am, in the most general terms only. And yet, I would be glad to hear your opinion. I am seeking a runaway girl.”
    “Ah. Of good family?”
    “Good enough.”
    “Is she pretty? If she should require employment—”
    “ Aunt! ” Miss Tolerance found she was shocked. “Is that your only thought?”
    “The first one,” Mrs. Brereton agreed, unconcerned. “I am in the business of—well, not selling young women, but renting some part of their flesh in the short term. What else should my first thought be? You imagine I want this girl, whoever she is, to be miserable. My idea is that, as it is likely she is ruined, she might as well find herself in the employ of a liberal and thoughtful madam.” She indicated herself. “It is a kindness on my part.”
    Miss Tolerance was horrified and amused. “I can see that, ma’am. But in fact, her family wishes to find her and, if possible, regularize her situation.”
    “Well, then, she’s a lucky girl,” Mrs. Brereton drawled. “If you find her, and if her family defaults of their kindness or she decides that regularizing does not suit her, do let me know.”
    Miss Tolerance put her cup down. “ If I find her. The Devil is in it that the family don’t seem to know who her seducer is. There is no evidence that they left for Gretna—other than her family’s belief that her principles were too strong to intend anything other than marriage.”
    “Show me a mother who truly understands what is in her daughter’s heart—”
    “Yes, aunt, indeed, I know: all families are humbug, all marriages are unhappy. Your views may have some foundation, but they are not helpful to me in this instance. So far I can find no trace of the girl at the coaching inns. Where would you look, ma’am?”
    “In my own parlor.”
    “It is rather too soon for that,” Miss Tolerance said. “How long did it take you to go from—” she searched for a tactful way to say the thing.
    “From schoolgirl to fille de joie? A matter of months. You know my first was an army man. And a gentleman.” The memory appeared to amuse her. “He was prodigiously elegant in his red coat, I may tell you, and we looked very fine when we danced together. He never told me that he had an affianced bride at home, or that all his expectations were tied up in marrying her.”
    “And when you discovered that he did not mean marriage, what did you do with yourself?”
    “Ah, well.” Mrs. Brereton smiled. “By the time it was clear to me that our aim was not Gretna Green and marriage over the anvil, but Brighthelmstone and the faro tables, another gentleman had indicated his interest in me—a far richer one. I decided that if I was committed to a life of sin I would just as soon sleep on silk sheets, and—”
    “You took charge of your fate.” Miss Tolerance regarded her aunt with admiration.
    “I did. As have you, my dear.”
    Miss Tolerance refused to be distracted to her own story. “But what does a gently-reared young lady do who has not your resolve?”
    “If she fancies herself in love with the fellow? Stay until he tires of her, cry when he leaves