Chapter 43

Hermione was glad to be going back to Wraxall. Her trip to Bristol had been interesting, well, that was an understatement, but all had been good in the end. She had left Angelica with sufficient funds to start work on doing up and converting the buildings, Lydia was happy, although Hermione wasn’t absolutely certain that she believed the story of what Angelica was up to, and better still all the children were healthy and getting along well. Victoria was well too, and had had a delightful little boy who could not be faulted in any way. Uncle Peter was cock-a-hoop, you’d almost think it was all his own work. But...

Whilst she was in Bristol Hermione had been to see her other mama, Sarah. The situation there was interesting. Sarah had married Tom, but Jerry was always with Tom, and Sarah had known that if you took one you got the other. That was fair enough and Hermione didn’t see any problem with that, indeed it had distinct possibilities. She mentally chastised herself for that thought. Sarah was always a little coy about the relationship, the more so when her friend Emiline had been added to the equation. Hermione never asked any details, but she would have been less than human not to wonder. When she called Emiline had answered the door, curtseyed, and invited Hermione in telling her that her mother was in the kitchen baking. Hermione gave Emiline a hug and kissed her cheek. Emiline was flustered, and waved a floury hand in front of her face.

“Oh,” she said, “do ladies...”

“I’m not a lady here, Emiline,” Hermione assured her. “This is my mother’s house and I’m just Hermione to those who live here.”

Emiline smiled, “Come to the kitchen then, Hermione,” she said. “And I’ll make tea.”

“Oh my,” said Sarah when Hermione hugged her. “That’s almost like being hugged by a man ... Oh, I mean...”

Hermione laughed, “The bulge is a bit intrusive isn’t it?”

“Behave yourself,” her mother told her.

Sitting around the kitchen table drinking tea the usual things between mother and daughter and then ladies who were close were discussed and then:

“Did you hear about that girl shooting her way out of Corbyn’s,” Sarah asked. “I’m sure I don’t know what things are coming to.”

“She shot Corbyn and his awful old women, they won’t be missed by anyone,” said Emiline.

“It was Angelica, too,” Sarah said. “What on earth can she have done to be there, I wonder.”

“She was kidnapped,” Hermione told them. “She helped a girl his thugs were chasing, so they came back for her.”

“Really? I suppose like you she always carries a gun,” Sarah clearly didn’t approve.”

“Well, she might have a problem when she’s on and off the ships. I know Caroline did on one occasion,” Hermione was quite firm, “You never know what can happen to a girl, especially an attractive one. Anyway, Grey’s is a lot better now.”

“Grey’s?” Emiline looked straight at her. “It was always Corbyns.”

“That’s right,” Sarah told her. “So, I wonder. I think you know a lot more. You’re a friend of Angelica’s aren’t you? Just remember our old profession, we keep up with things. You can’t help it.”

“What I’ve heard is that the women have taken over the business, and that they’ve got a woman helping them,” Emiline told them. “That would be Angelica wouldn’t it?”

“She only does the business side of things,” Hermione was quick to attempt a defence of Angelica.

“And according to what I’m told she has someone, they say a lady, who is providing money for the whole of that block to be done up,” Emiline finished.

There was silence.

“You look like a little girl who’s been caught with her hand in the biscuit tin,” Sarah told Hermione. “Anything more you should tell us?”

Hermione had been a well behaved little girl and although she had naturally, quite literally, had her hand in the biscuit tin once or twice, and similar things when she had been at school, but this was different. This time she was faced with a mother who was very stern faced.

And she felt like a little girl.

“You’ve not been...”

“Mama! Certainly not!”

“It’s such an easy thing,” said Emiline who was obviously nodding her head at some memory. “And many men would pay...”

“Yes, Susie told me.”

“Who is Susie?” asked Sarah.

“She ... runs the house.”

“And she tried to recruit you. You be very careful, young lady, it really is that easy even if it isn’t for the money. Emiline will tell you, you just want a thrill, you’re feeling that way and your man isn’t about. Just the once of course. But it never is.”

Emiline nodded, a faraway look on her face. There was a story there that might prove interesting another time, Hermione thought.

Hermione felt suitably chastened, but when she left it was hugs and kisses all round, and she promised to be in touch soon.

So, what was her problem? Why, that feeling, need, Emiline had known, but ... She had another two months until the baby would be born, and she was feeling, well, in need of Jake’s attention. Or someone’s attention. Susan, or she was quite sure that Myrtle would be happy to help. It was all right for them, she thought, they had Jake and each other and she didn’t believe that they wouldn’t take every opportunity to satisfy their lusts. She had felt this way for a while, long enough that she had, for no more than a fraction of a second admittedly, considered Susie’s proposal. The idea was repugnant, really, for money indeed, but there was an itch that needed scratching. Emiline seemed to know about what could happen there. Whether it was a man, only her husband of course, or a woman didn’t matter. Women were obviously the safest, and Susie was very attractive, but only had eyes for Angelica who had no idea what she was missing. The only other person was Mary, her new maid. But she had told Hermione when she first joined her that one of her previous employers had tried to get her to do what his wife would not do, and she had discovered that the reason his wife would not do that was because she wanted Mary herself, and Mary was emphatic that she was not interested in providing that service either. That, Hermione thought, was a long explanation, but it matched the rattle of the train wheels as they passed over the rail joints and that was ... she woke with a jerk, the train was slowing as they approached Old Leak station.

Whilst Mary and the porter unloaded and sorted out the luggage, Hermione went to thank the engine crew. It was something that she had done since they had helped to rush her to London when Jake was arrested. She gave the driver a florin that would give them a good evening, and told him that the ride was so good she had fallen asleep. The driver laughed and thanked her.

The luggage was loaded into the new wagonette, a considerable improvement over the old trap, and she was helped up and into a seat. Twenty minutes later she was greeted by the smiling face of Footman, the butler.

“Welcome home, Lady Hermione,.”

“Tea, Footman,” said Hermione. “I must have tea. Is my mother in her sitting room?”

“Yes, my lady, she is. I’ll bring your tea immediately.

“Thank you, Footman. You are a saviour,” Hermione told him as she left to find her mother.

Mary smiled and shook her head, her mistress was just wonderful. She seemed to sail through any problems, sorting them as she went. Travelling with her was a pleasure. and all those children in Bristol, quite amazing, and her mistress was almost buried under a pile of bodies when she saw them. One of the nursemaids had explained to her who they all were, and whilst her mistress was out she had enjoyed spending time with them. It was strange that whilst she had found the thought of intimacy with her previous mistress repugnant, with Lady Hermione it didn’t seem that way at all.

The duchess was delighted to see her daughter. For Hermione it was the benefit of having two mothers. She was telling the duchess about how far she had got with the garden and how helpful Kew had been when Footman arrived with her tea.

“Some letters arrived for you whilst you have been away m’lady,” he told Hermione. “I’ve put them on the desk in your room.”

Hermione thanked him and went on to tell her mother about things that had happened in Bristol. A very carefully laundered version concerning the children and visiting Sarah.

“I noticed there was an outbreak of fighting in Bristol whilst you were there,” said the duchess. “A girl going berserk, shooting everyone in sight the Times said. It wasn’t you exercising your firearm was it?” she laughed.

Hermione realised that she was going to have to get better at dissembling facts that might cause her embarrassment. As it was her mother looked straight at her and suggested that she tell her all about it. Once again Hermione felt like a little girl.

“It was you?” the duchesses voice was rising.

“No, no it wasn’t me, it was Angelica. She was kidnapped...” and Hermione had to tell the whole story again.

“So, this young woman who is Jake’s ward, shot all these people, apparently in self defence, and has ended up running a um, one of those places. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“She’s a very sweet girl, mama. You’ll like her.”

The duchess’s expression indicated that she rather doubted that.

“There must be property involved ... who owns that? She can’t,” the duchess mused.

“Well, she sort of does.”

“How can she sort of own it?”

“Well...” Hermione explained this as far as she could.

“I see, and my brother knows all about this. I suppose he is providing the finance.” she looked at Hermione for confirmation to find her daughter looking even more guilty. “Oh, Hermione really! What will Jake say?”

“He isn’t here and it’s a good investment,” said Hermione petulantly.

“A bordello? In a building with a faked title?” The duchess rolled her eyes and looked heavenwards.

Put like that, Hermione thought, perhaps it didn’t sound quite so good.

’Rigel’ steamed into Valletta harbour and was guided into a berth. Fitz did not want to be here too long, coal being the only thing they needed. There was, however, bad news when he enquired. There were strikes in South Wales where the finest steam coal that was normally used was mined and the only coal in Malta was reserved for the navy. He felt he would have to go and see the admiral if only for the sake of form. Accordingly he presented himself at the Admiral’s Office where he met the admiral’s flag lieutenant in an outer office. Fitz introduced himself and asked to see the Admiral.

“I’m sorry Captain Fitzherbert, the Admiral has a bit of a problem...”

“Did I hear Fitzherbert?” said a voice from the inner office.

The lieutenant leapt to his feet and went to the door. “Yes, Sir. Captain Fitz...”

“Well show him in.”

The lieutenant looked at Fitz with a raised eyebrow and indicated that he should enter. Having heard the voice Fitz was already aware of who he was about to meet.

“Admiral Fox, sir, very good to see you. This is a change from Dublin,” Fitz greeted the admiral.

The Admiral shook Fitz’s hand. “And good to see you m’boy. Yes, damned sight warmer too. Now, what are you doing here?”

Fitz explained his problem.

“Nothing I can do about it, I’m afraid. No. Even my ships have precious little coal and it’ll be a fortnight before any more gets here. One of the drawbacks of steam power I’m afraid. Your only choices are to sail, or to wait. But you’ll come to dinner this evening, Lady Fox will be delighted to see you. Do you have passengers?”

“Yes, sir,” said Fitz. “Lord and Lady Clevedon and their daughter Lady Harmsworth. My fiancee, Lady Beatrice Hatherley, and we also have a Chinese girl, Lotus Blossom, who I’m sure Lady Fox would like to meet.”

“Flags!” the admiral yelled. “Did you get that lot?”

“Yes, sir,” the lieutenants voice came from the outer office

“Good. Get someone to toddle along and tell Lady Fox she’s got guests this evening.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“She’ll probably kill me but ... Now, good to see you, captain, but I’ve got a ... problem to deal with...” the admiral paused in thought, “or I might have ... a solution ... to ... both our problems. Yes. Now, you’re no longer Navy are you?”

“Reserve, sir.”

“Yes, yes, but a merchant skipper to all intents and purposes. My problem is that I’ve been told that there is some sort of Bey or something who has kidnapped an English lady. It’s a couple of days sail from here. I can’t do anything officially, but if you as a civilian were to take a little schooner we captured, and a few men, you could effect a rescue.”

“And if it went belly up...” said Fitz.

“I’d be able to say ‘nothing to do with Her Majesty’s government’. Yes,” said the admiral with no trace of embarrassment. He looked at Fitz. “You are about to ask what’s in it for you?”

“It had occurred to me, sir.”

“We’ll fill you bunkers from the first collier to arrive. And, of course, we’ll look after your passengers until you leave. What do you say?”

“It sounds fair enough, sir, but I’d like to know more. And I must discuss it with my people. Can I let you know this evening?”

“Yes, of course. Now, Flags can fill you in on the details, and show you the ship.”

The first thing Fitz did was borrow a midshipman to take a message to ‘Rigel’ to give the ladies time to get dressed for supper. The flag lieutenant then ran through the details, as far as was known, and then took him to see the ship.

Susie walked into the office and was grateful to be able to sit down. The joke might be that in her profession you worked lying down, but in practice it took a lot out of you; there, she thought, was an opportunity for another joke. It had been a busy evening, she had satisfied a number of clients and managed the bar when one of Kate’s favourites had come in. From the outside it might look like one long party, but it was bloody hard work and sometimes it was difficult to keep the party spirit flowing.

She relaxed and wished Angelica was there. Susie had asked for her help in the beginning because she knew that Angelica would know what to do to run a business. And she had. They had been up and running as soon as the bodies, Angelica’s bodies she giggled to herself, had been removed by the police, and then she had taught them that if you had a product, and sex was a product apparently, then you had to present it in the best possible way. And she had, the improvements to the property, the negligee things and the girls attitude too. That last had been remarkably easy once the girls knew they were being paid well, and had savings that they could draw out whenever they wanted. There was no doubt that for a good girl Angelica had taken to the business with enthusiasm. Not as part of the ‘product’ she laughed, no, neither she, Susie nor Angelica, wanted that to happen. And that was a bit of a problem. There was only one person Susie wanted Angelica involved with and that was Susie. Because Susie was in love with Angelica.

Angelica, as Susie knew, had an ‘understanding’ with Nathaniel Norton. Whether this would be honoured when he returned was unknown. Angelica felt that due to her new situation she might well be unacceptable to Nathaniel’s mother. She had also developed a fondness for Susie and the whole of this situation would have to be resolved.

Susie had started out life in a village not too far from Bristol. As in all poor households Susie had had to work from an early age. She was a pretty girl who had been taken under the wing of the local vicar who had taught her to read and write. It was probably his intention to educate her in other areas too, she remembered his hands had sometimes seemed to be where they shouldn’t be, but her father got those sort of lessons sorted before the vicar could. Her mother had been unwell and unable to provide her husband with his ‘rights’ and so she had handed this role on to her daughter, holding her to make sure she didn’t get away. It had been a traumatic experience and, being thirteen, Susie decided she could manage on her own and do better in the city. She hadn’t intended that better would mean being paid to provide what her father had taken for free, but that she discovered was the fate of any girl in her position. If she wanted to eat. And so eventually she had ended up at Corbyns.

Angelica’s arrival had been a stroke of luck for Susie. It got rid of Corbyn who was a nasty piece of work, and the two women, who had enjoyed treating the girls badly. Susie now realised how counter productive that was. Angelica had also got rid of Corbyn’s sidekicks, but they wouldn’t have been too much of a problem. The new musclemen, Bert and Cec were useful and easily managed. The biggest problem they could have were the religious do-gooding women who wanted the girls to stop earning a living in comparative comfort, and become washerwomen or something similar because they believed hard word was more moral. Not that they did any themselves. Of course there was one sure way to get rid of places like Grey’s, and that was for the women to do for their husbands freely what the girls did for money. As if that was likely. Susie hoped that Angelica could pull off the renovations to the buildings, and their reuse that, hopefully, would make her life easier. Until then, what she needed in a hurry were two or three more girls. She’d sort that tomorrow, there were always plenty of girls arriving in the city to try their luck, just as she had. At Grey’s Gentlemen’s Club they’d have a much better career than she had had.

The Valkyrie negotiated the Pregolya River and docked in Koenigsberg just after lunch. As soon as they had all their bags and baggage they found a cab and Jake directed the driver to the hotel. They were settled into a suite where Myrtle unpacked and, as she always did, soon had them sorted. Jake left to go to the railway station and find out what he could about onward travel. As he remembered from his last visit to Germany there were a lot of soldiers about. This was, of course, Prussia so it was to be expected. He discovered that there was a train to the north, and one to the south, but none to the east. There was simply no line from Koenigsberg to the Imperial Russian Empire. The clerk told him that no one wanted to go there, indicating that he couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to anyway.

What to do now was the subject of discussion over an excellent dinner. The final decision was that they would have to wait until morning to sort it out, another day shouldn’t make a lot of difference.

After dinner Jake and Susan took a table in the ballroom where there was a small orchestra playing for dancing, whilst Myrtle retired to their suite. Jake gave Susan a couple of spins around the dance floor, and then they returned to their table.

“I didn’t know you were a dancer, Jake,” Susan commented.

“My mother insisted that I take lessons. Her idea was that if I wanted to court a nice girl then being able to dance would be an asset. It certainly worked with Hermione.” Jake told her. “It’s really the only way you can actually get your hands on a lady,” Jake grinned.

“That isn’t the way she tells it.”

“I suppose she has told you that I was always grabbing hold of her. Well that was true, but I was invariably hauling her aboard the ship. Come to think of it Tom did too, and I never heard her complain,” Jake laughed. “In fact her mother said I’d rescued her so many times she was a bit like a sporting cup, win it three times and you get to keep it.”

It was Susan’s turn to laugh. Jake realised that she had a strange look on her face.

“Problem?” he asked.

“I would have sworn I saw those two women through the doors,” she told him.

“Miss Scarlet and Mrs White?”

“Yes. But it couldn’t be. I must be seeing things.”

A young officer came to the table and requested a dance with the beautiful lady. Jake was perfectly happy, and the officer whirled her away. She arrived back a couple of dances later. The young man bowed, thanked her, and as he turned there was a triple collision between him and two other officers. The officer who was leaving apologised profusely, despite it not really being his fault, and left quickly. There was obvious animosity between the other two. What happened next rather surprised Jake, because Susan turned out to have a good command of German.

Susan smiled. “You gentlemen would like the next dance,” she said. “But I cannot dance with both of you, and you both arrived together ... so what will we do?”

“I would have been first if that idiot von Kluge hadn’t tripped me,” the first of the two officers, a darkly handsome man exclaimed.

“Nonsense, von Manstein,” said the other, another handsome man, but this one was blond and slightly taller. “You can hardly expect the lady to dance with you if you cannot stand up.”

“Kesselring, if...”

“Stop, stop! Gentlemen really,” Susan broke in. “If you cannot act like gentlemen then I shall refuse to dance with either of you. Now, what shall we do? How to decide?”

Jake could see a mischievous look on her face, that was a facet of Susan that he had been unaware of. This might be interesting and he followed along with it.

“I know,” said Susan, brightly. “I am sure that both of you are fine swordsmen, perhaps I could use that to judge between you.”

“We are not allowed to duel,” said von Manstein.

“No, no,” said Susan. “Of course not. I would borrow a sword and you could fence with me. That way I should get the measure of you. To see who was best. Then he could be first. That would be fair wouldn’t it?”

Jake could see the young officers’ minds working. Obviously a lady would present no problem to them as swordsmen, but what did she know? She would pronounce one of them better than the other. They were both quite sure that they were the best. So ... He had to restrain himself from laughing, Susan had provided them with an interesting dilemma.

“Where will we do this?” asked Kesselring.

“Whilst I was dancing,” said Susan. “I saw that there was a lawn beyond the terrace. Would that do?”

Of course it would, thought Jake. Kesselring and von Manstein agreed and they left the ballroom. When they arrived at the lawned area Jake stopped the inevitable argument as to who should go first by suggesting the spin of a coin. Whoever went first the other would lend his sword to Susan and vice versa. Jake tossed a coin, Kesselring called heads and heads it was. Both men drew their swords and von Manstein offered his to Susan. At this point there was a loud cough. Both young officers snapped to attention.

“Herr Oberst,” they exclaimed in unison

“What is going on here?” asked the newcomer, a senior officer.

For once both men were tongue tied. Jake decided to intervene.

“Sir Jacob White,” he said, offering his hand.

“Oberst von Rundstedt,” the officer shook his hand. “Can you explain this, Sir Jacob?”

“These two officers wish to dance with Miss Susan,” Jake told him. “But they are unable to decide who should go first. Miss Susan proposed that she should make the decision based upon which of them was the better swords man. Obviously she would have to borrow the sword of the man who wasn’t fighting.”

Von Rundstedt looked at him. “And will she be able to tell? Without killing one of my officers that is.” He laughed.

“Oh yes,” said Jake.

Von Rundstedt smiled. “Then the lady shall use my sword, it has had little use of late.”

He offered his sword to Susan who bobbed a curtsey as she accepted the honour. She turned to Kesselring and saluted him.

Their swords clashed. Kesselring realised as he stepped back that he had underestimated Susan as one might expect. He made to attack and move forwards only to be forced to take another step back. Susan broke off and stepped back, she didn’t want to get too far from the audience. Kesselring came towards her determined to ... he fell for Susan’s trap and his sword sailed from his hand and he found Susan’s sword pointed at him as if it would run him through.

“How long was that Jake?” she called.

“Twenty five seconds,” Jake told her.

“Do you always time her?” asked von Rundstedt, who obviously felt this was perhaps unchivalrous.

“I’ve never seen her in full flight before, sir,” he told the Oberst, “but she asked me to time her on way out here, otherwise how would she tell the difference?”

Von Rundstedt laughed. “Your next, von Manstein.”

Von Manstein had watched the fight with Kesselring and avoided the first of Susan’s traps but the outcome was inevitable. It took a full twenty eight seconds for Susan to disarm him. She returned von Rundstedt’s sword and thanked him.

She turned. “Come, von Manstein, it’s your dance,” she laughed, and she took his hand and led him into the ballroom.

They spent the rest of the evening in the company of the Oberst, a rank that Jake found was the equivalent of colonel, and his wife and daughters. Susan danced with the Oberst, Kesselring and von Manstein, whilst Jake did the same with Frau von Rundstedt, a very well built, but very attractive and very blonde lady, and their pretty daughters Flosshilda, Woglinda and Wellgunde, who were about seventeen or eighteen, and perhaps twenty, although it was a job to tell which was the eldest and which the youngest.

As they were dancing Flosshilda asked Jake about Susan.

“Could she really have killed them, you know, Manfred and Herman?”

“Yes,” Jake replied. “She certainly could have, they were disarmed.”

“But would she?”

Jake smiled at her. “Only if they were a threat to me.” he told her. She shuddered and danced a little closer. An odd reaction Jake thought.

Jake was thinking abut the girls, particularly Flosshilda, a little later as he prepared for bed. It was that shudder and the closer dancing ... oh well, he thought, someone would work it out one of these days, it was a foolish man who tried to work out the vagaries of the human female. His door opened and Susan slipped in.

“What...?”

“I know exactly what Hermione means now,” she said. “For heavens sake, Jake close your mouth and take me to bed.”

Jake didn’t need to be told twice. He took her in his arms and kissed her. He reached down and caught the hem of her nightdress, lifted it over her head revealing a slim but muscular body with very small breasts. He hand went to the junction of her thighs and found that she was more than ready for him. She pulled him to the bed and on top of her. It was not too much later that she was lying under him sated for the moment. Jake was gradually kissing and nibbling her.

“What did you mean about Hermione?” he asked between kisses.

“Oh ... she says ... ooo! ... that her underthings, ahh ... get ... very wet ... when she thinks about you, aaa,” she finished hurriedly. “What ahhre you ... doing?”

Jake was nibbling her nipples and becoming stiff again, so he started moving.

“Oh ... that is just sooo ... I wa-oh-nt to dooo this every niiight.”

“You’ll become a mother.”

“Oh my God ... Ooo, my ... I hadn’t th ... ought. We’d better, hmmm, sto-op.”

But her actions indicated that this statement was merely a sop to a conscience that under pressure had acquiesced to the inevitable.

“Not to worry now,” said Jake, as would most men who were hard at work, and carried on.

It was some time later that they were woken by a giggling Myrtle.

“Jake, Jake, Susan! Wakeup! There is a man to see you.”

Jake shook himself awake, got out of bed and put on a dressing gown. He went into the sitting room where he was greeted by Igor.

“You must come quickly, sir. I have a coach. Pack little, we must hurry.”

Twenty minutes later they were in a closed carriage proceeding to the next part of the adventure. And that definitely lay in the direction of the Imperial Russian Empire.

Hermione retired to her room to read the letters that had arrived for her and have a bath before dinner. The first letter was from Jake. He told her that it had been an interesting voyage, although naturally he didn’t mention the nocturnal visitations. Other than that he loved her and hoped she was well. The next one was soliciting her contribution to a charity dedicated to helping fallen women. She chuckled and put that to one side for further consideration. She wondered whether she wasn’t doing enough in that direction already. She had problems with both her mothers on that score. The third was in a neat feminine script. The return address was a single lady living in London. Hermione broke the seal and unfolded a single sheet of good quality bond. It was addressed to her at Wraxall, Lincolnshire.