no questions and you’ll be told no lies,’ he said, laughing. ‘Don’t look so worried, Nettie. I had the winning ticket in a sweepstake at work. I can’t think of a better way to spend the money than to treat my best friends.’
Nettie put on her best gown of pale blue silk with a modest décolleté. Four years ago her father had had a run of good fortune. He had promised to take her to Paris to see the works of art in the Louvre and had even gone to the trouble of obtaining passports. Added to that, in a sudden fit of generosity, he had taken her to a fashionable salon and had chosen the outfit himself, but styles had changed subtly since then. Nettie had had to use all her sewing skills to bring the garment up to date, but when they entered the smart Gaiety Restaurant she felt like a sparrow amongst brightly coloured birds of paradise. She was dowdy in comparison to the elegant ladies present, but if Byron, Pip and Ted were not as smartly dressed as the other gentlemen they did not seem to know or to care. Their appearances passed largely unnoticed, whereas Nettie could feel the patronising and sometimes pitying glances from other women. They would know almost to the day when her gown had been bought, and probably the very salon from which it had been purchased.
Despite her discomfort, Nettie held her head high as Byron led the way past a table where several young men in evening suits were enjoying themselves noisily.
‘Students. More money than sense.’ Ted moved on swiftly, but one of the party had apparently overhead his remark and the young man staggered to his feet.
‘What did you say, sir?’
‘Sit down, Rufus.’ One of his friends caught him by the arm. ‘We’ll get thrown out if you don’t behave.’
‘The fellow just insulted us, Percy.’ Rufus steadied himself, and his belligerent expression was wiped away by a slightly lopsided smile as he spotted Nettie. ‘A thousand pardons, most beautiful lady.’
‘Shut up, Norwood. You’re drunk.’ Percy tried to stand but fell back on his chair.
‘Drunk or sober, I’m honoured to make your acquaintance, ma’am.’ Rufus Norwood seized Nettie’s hand and raised it to his lips. ‘Will you and your party join us, fair lady?’
She met his gaze and realised with a shock that he was not nearly as drunk as he made out. His lips were smiling but his hazel eyes danced with amusement. She snatched her hand away and hurried on before Byron had a chance to intervene.
‘Do you know that fellow?’ he asked in a low voice. ‘If he upset you I’ll go and sort him out.’
‘I’ve never met him before in my life,’ Nettie said hastily. ‘Ignore them; they’re all tipsy.’
‘I may be a trifle inebriated,’ Rufus said with a courtly bow, ‘but I would never insult a lady.’
‘Sit down and stop being such a bore.’ Percy tugged at his friend’s coat-tails.
Nettie walked away and took her seat at the table with her head held high; she had no intention of letting anything or anyone spoil the evening, and it was Byron’s birthday – he was the most important person present.
But her enjoyment was short lived. Just as they were about to finish their main course, who should walk through the door but Duke Dexter, and the young woman who clung to his arm, laughing and flirting outrageously, was none other than Amelie Fabron. They were accompanied by two other couples, who were equally loud and very drunk. It was obvious that Duke was a regular customer as the waiters fawned upon him, rushing around to clear a table in the centre of the restaurant, pulling up chairs and wafting clean napkins in the air before laying them on their patrons’ laps.
‘Who the hell is that?’ Pip demanded, chuckling. ‘You’d think that fellow was a royal.’
‘He’s an art dealer,’ Byron said in a low voice. ‘One of our clients tried to sue him and failed. Everyone knows he’s a criminal, but so far the police haven’t been able to pin anything on him. He’s as slippery as an eel.’
‘And twice as ugly,’ Pip added. ‘I’d call him vulgar. Look at the gold rings he wears on both hands.’
Ted sighed heavily. ‘It doesn’t seem to worry that young lady – she’s beautiful. What does she see in him?’
‘What’s the matter with all of you?’ Nettie leaned forward, lowering her voice. ‘You must have seen her often enough. That’s Amelie, the Fabrons’ daughter. She’s in the play at the Adelphi, or rather she’s an understudy, so I don’t know what she’s doing here.’
Byron turned his head to take another look. ‘By Jove, so it is. I’ve only seen her in passing and she always puts her head down and scuttles by as if she thinks I’ll bite. Look at her now.’
‘I’ve a good mind to tell her father,’ Ted said angrily. ‘That fellow is up to no good. Look at the way he’s running his fingers up and down her arm. I ought to go over there and give him a piece of my mind.’
Nettie reached out and laid her hand on his clenched fist. ‘It has nothing to do with us, Ted. She’s not like your lady friend from the bakery – Amelie is her parents’ problem, not yours.’ She glanced at Duke and felt the blood rush to her cheeks as their eyes met. Even worse, he rose to his feet and was coming towards them. Nettie looked around for a way of escape, but there was none.
Duke came to a halt beside her. ‘Well, well, I wasn’t expecting to see you here this evening, Miss Carroll.’
Byron rose to his feet. ‘Do you know this man, Nettie?’
‘Of course she does,’ Duke said smoothly. ‘How would I be aware of her name if we weren’t acquainted?’
‘This is Mr Dexter who has an art gallery in Dover Street,’ Nettie said stiffly. ‘I’ve visited it with Pa.’
‘Of course you have.’ Duke took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘I’m delighted to see you again after all this time, Miss Carroll. Please remember me to your father and tell him that I look forward to seeing his latest work – sooner rather than later.’ He bowed and strolled back to his table.
Amelie turned to stare at them and looked away quickly, but not before Nettie had seen panic in the girl’s eyes, giving her the appearance of a startled fawn.
‘Someone ought to tell her father,’ Ted insisted sulkily. ‘She’s too young for him, and he’s obviously a libertine.’
‘She is young,’ Nettie said slowly, ‘but she was brought up in the theatre. I’m sure she’s got his measure, but I’ll speak to her if it will make you feel better, Ted.’
He shrugged and pushed his plate away. ‘I suppose it’s none of my business, but I don’t like the look of that man.’
‘Neither do I,’ Pip added with feeling. ‘I’ve met his ilk often enough when they need someone to represent them in court. They think their ill-earned money can buy anything and anyone.’
Byron picked up the wine bottle and refilled Ted’s glass. ‘Drink up, everyone. It’s my birthday, so let’s enjoy ourselves. Who’s for pudding?’
Pip smiled and raised his glass. ‘Here’s to you, Byron. Happy birthday, and I’d love something sweet.’ He nudged Ted, grinning widely. ‘I’m sure you would, too, if only
