After his illuminating discussions with Charlotte and Annabelle less than an hour earlier, he’d left for his club. It was pointless trying to distract himself there. The fact was, despite the late hour and the fact Hope may well be entertaining, he had to see her at the earliest.
The past was the past and what had happened to her couldn’t be changed by what he did tonight or tomorrow, but the urgency to learn from her own lips the events that had taken place when she’d left the district threatened to send him mad.
He was a few steps along the pavement and about to hail a hackney when a tentative voice behind him made him turn.
“You’re the gentleman who visited Hope the other day, aren’t you?”
Felix was struck by the girl’s angelic looks. Wearing a clinging long-line gown in white and silver and standing on the top step of Madame Chambon’s, she looked like an angel in the gaslight.
“Where is she?” His urgency overrode good manners.
“Will she want to see you?”
“Perhaps you know the answer to that better than I.” His heart skittered as she appraised him.
The girl squinted as if trying to decide whether to engage him further. “Are you the gentleman who knew her before she came to London?”
“It depends which one. There were two of us.” Felix realised this only as he spoke the words. Wilfred had always wanted Hope. As much as Felix had.
“The gentleman with whom she only recently renewed her acquaintance?” The young woman put her head on one side. “The one for whom Hope was a special surprise. The only gentleman she said she’s ever loved.”
Felix did his best to resist any feeling that resulted from her words. “Then why did she steal from me? If she told you she loved me perhaps she told you the answer to that also.”
“Blackmail.” The girl said it matter-of-factly.
Felix’s suspicions hardened into a kernel of vengeance. The pieces of the puzzle were all coming together, and he’d soon be searching for Wilfred as diligently as he was now searching for Hope.
But Hope was his first priority, and he needed to find her before another day dawned, though it didn’t stop him asking, “She said she loved me?” It was a delight to hear it from anyone’s lips though he’d rather have heard it from Hope’s own.
The girl nodded. “You’ll find Hope at Skittles, if she’s still there. Lord Westfall took her for a night out, though he might have taken her back to his lodgings. You know he’s going to make her an offer tonight?”
“An offer?” For a ridiculous moment, Felix misinterpreted her until she said, laughing, “What kind of offer do you think? To set her up, of course. That’s what all the girls here hope for. And Lord Westfall is smitten. He’s a good catch.”
The imperative for Felix to scupper Lord Westfall’s offer and make good his own was suddenly too great for him to stand there talking any longer. Bowing his thanks, he hailed the next passing hackney carriage and was soon bowling through the cobbled streets towards the lively premises of one of London’s most notorious courtesans. Felix knew Skittles’ lodgings well.
* * *
The party was in full swing, as it usually was at three in the morning. Felix had been to Skittles before, with Millament and others. Good food, good conversation and lovely women were the order of the day. The drawing room was a long expanse from which the furniture had been cleared for dancing at the far end. Felix scanned the dozen or so couples who were taking up the available space in a fast Viennese waltz. He could not see Hope. At the rear of the room, a few tables were occupied by card players, while to the side a supper table laden with tiers of rich fare had attracted a small crowd.
Felix made his way through the throng, nodding at various people he knew until he was accosted by Millament.
“Back in the land of the living again, eh?” his friend greeted him. “I dropped into Lady Hunt’s and congratulated your future wife, though she seemed surprisingly out of spirits. No doubt it was on account of you leaving before your engagement announcement to go gallivanting about at a renowned courtesan’s lodgings—though I’m sure you didn’t tell her that!”
“I told her I was going to my club.” Felix continued to search the room, looking over Millament’s shoulder.
“Jolly good! Great progress since last week. I thought you were going to retreat back into one of those blue funks of yours. Last thing we all expected was an engagement to Miss Annabelle Hunt! Sly old devil. And there I was, thinking you’d lost your heart to a prostitute, though she’s more than that, eh? What a beauty! She could pass as a duchess, eh. She’s here, actually. With Westfall.”
Felix cut him off impatiently. “I see Westfall over there. And she’s not with him.”
Millament shrugged. “She’s probably dancing. Oh, yes, now I recall. She went yonder with that fellow I don’t care for who, regrettably, is brother to your betrothed so you’re going to have to suffer his company, which means I no doubt will too.”
Felix stared after his pointing finger and took a step towards a closed door at the far end of the room before Millament clapped him on the arm.
“I say, you’re not going after her, old chap. Not good form, I must remind you. Not been yourself, have you, so I feel justified—”
Felix removed his friends hand and ignored his call for restraint as he parted the throng of merrymakers in his pursuit of what he’d find on the other side of the doorway he pushed through.
If Hope was alone with Hunt, it didn’