Petty Treason by Madeleine E. Robins

Author:Madeleine E. Robins
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2011-11-29T16:00:00+00:00

The light from the house on Manchester Square glowed in the dark street as Miss Tolerance alit from her hansom carriage. She did not trouble to walk around the corner to Spanish Place, but knocked on the door and was admitted by Keefe. Song of a particularly riotous sort issued from one of the parlors. Miss Tolerance rolled her eyes and inquired after her aunt; Keefe informed her that Mrs. Brereton appeared to be on the mend, and had left word that her niece should call in the morning. Miss Tolerance thanked Keefe and was about to proceed toward the garden steps when she was stopped by a crowd of merrymakers who erupted into the hallway, surrounding her. The men looked alike in dark coats and pale breeches, the evening uniform of the fashionable male; the women, all recognizable as Mrs. Brereton’s whores, wore a variety of garb from formal evening dress to transparent chemise. The entire party appeared in a state of merriment, playing a parody of that nursery staple, blindman’s buff. First among them was Miss Tolerance’s particular friend, Marianne Touchwell.

Miss Tolerance was uncomfortably aware that she might be mistaken for one of the whores. She felt as well some awkwardness at the sight of her friend, flushed and laughing, playing at using her fan to protect her from the importunities of one of the men. She did not often encounter Marianne at work.

For a moment Miss Tolerance stood still in the midst of the merrymakers, as if inaction itself could differentiate her from the crowd. This subtlety—and the fact that Miss Tolerance wore a coat and bonnet and not the Hellenic draperies of some of the whores—was lost on one fellow, who came up behind her and snaked his arm about her waist, attempting to slide his hand into her coat and tweak her breast. Miss Tolerance reacted more quickly than thought: she had the man’s arm twisted behind his back before she recalled where she was and whose business she was depressing. The game abruptly stopped.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” she said at once, and released the man. “I’m afraid you startled me. I did not think—”

“Didn’t think?” Chloe, one of the whores in the crowd, pushed forward. “I should say not, Miss Sarah! My poor Mr. N, are you quite all right?” She fluttered around the man, who stood rubbing his arm. He had caught sight of her bruised face, and stared in fascination.

“I quite understand, miss—” He paused. “I ought not, that is; I mistook you—”

“Quite understandable,” Miss Tolerance said. “I did not hurt you?”

“Really, Miss Sarah!” Chloe put her arm about her patron’s shoulder and ran a caressing hand across his shoulder. “Don’t you fret, Mr. N. It’s quite—”

Marianne pushed through the crowd. “That’s all right, Chloe. He wasn’t to know that Miss Sarah isn’t one of us—” This to Mr. N, who was now watching Miss Tolerance with some interest. “And she was naturally startled, being … embraced in that fashion. I’m

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