Unnatural Fire by Fidelis Morgan

Author:Fidelis Morgan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FM

Lixiviation—a process of oxidation, by exposing the substance to air and water. This forms vitriols.

Alpiew made her way back to German Street, but could not bring herself to go inside. How could she sleep in there while that idiotic man rattled off his ludicrous stories? How could she talk to the Countess and not tell her what she had seen this night? She moved along the street and turned down Berry Street. She was not frightened any more, however dense the fog. Trudging uphill into James’s Street she decided to take the short cut through Park Place into the northern parts of St James’s Park. There would be some other stragglers there to huddle up with. She glanced up at the rear windows of the Duchesse de Pigalle’s Arlington Street home. To her surprise the lights were blazing all over the house. Perhaps she was up and about at this late hour. It was worth a try. A bed in a madhouse was better than a bush in the park.

It only took a few minutes to hurry round the corner and knock on the Duchesse’s door. If she was turned away with a mouthful of incomprehensible French insults, what difference could it make to her present misery? She banged the knocker.

The door was flung open almost instantly and the Duchesse loomed in the doorway swaying slightly. The mirrored candle sconces behind her illuminated her ginger hair so brightly that it seemed on fire.

‘Merde alors!’ she shrieked. ‘Alpiew! J’ai chié dans mes frocs!’ Behind her in the hallway a small gang of elderly men hovered, burbling. ‘Are you all right, Olympe?’ ‘Who is it?’ ‘Take care…’

‘These gentlemen are leaving, darlink. We have had ze most perfect game of hazard. Ze dice loved me tonight. Non, Sir Charles?’

A portly gentleman sidled up to the Duchesse and planted a juicy kiss on her cheek. ‘Alack a day, you have clear cleaned me out, you saucy goose. I’ll have to get five more ships back from the Indies before I can afford to play with you again, you sausage!’ He slipped past Alpiew and on to the front step. ‘Anyone for a march?’ He bowed in Alpiew’s direction before stumbling into the street. ‘Can’t see the nose on your face, gentlemen. We’ll have to go home arm in arm.’

‘Duchesse, I am more yours than my own.’ A lean, hawk-like man took his leave with another kiss. ‘I am sure I will sleep tonight without rocking.’

Alpiew thought they would never go, there was so much kissing and jesting.

As the last man was swallowed up by the fog, Pigalle turned to Alpiew. ‘So, what is ze problem?’

‘I am offering my services,’ said Alpiew quietly. ‘As a temporary replacement for Azis.’

‘Marvellous,’ cried Pigalle, taking Alpiew’s arm in a taloned grip and tugging her up the stairs, puffing out the candles as she passed them. ‘Thank God for zat! Azis was my valet de chambre, my companion, my cook, my secretary, my equerry, my everything. I am lost without him.

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