Chapter 7

seven

D USK CREPT ALONG the streets by the time Edith had finished posing for Valentine.

The tunic she’d worn to pose as the Star Maiden had been more covering than she’d imagined, but the hours spent sitting and doing nothing had made her restless. That was why she went out for a walk with Daphne, then to buy jacket potatoes from a street vendor, and now she was again in a carriage with Daphne, heading to a club. Valentine himself would join them as soon as he finished coating the painting.

She reclined her head, wishing for the nagging whisper in her head to stay quiet. Doubts often tormented her and begged her to go home whenever she wanted to have fun.

Admittedly, after last night, she should probably spend a quiet night at home, drink tea, and go to bed early. But she could drink tea and sleep any night. Life was short.

She’d spent too many years worrying about her future, her studies, and her manners. The Princess Alice disaster had opened her eyes. Perry had been right. She should enjoy herself while she could before her life was snatched from her in a moment.

“Is this Scarlet Room an opium den?” she asked.

Enjoying herself didn’t mean turning her brain into a bleeding pulp. She’d studied enough medical books to know what opium, snuff, and cocaine did to the body, no matter what some physicians said. An early grave wasn’t her idea of enjoying life.

“Well, if you want it to be an opium den, yes,” Daphne said. “The point of the Scarlet Room is that you can do whatever you want there, from smoking opium to drinking yourself to a stupor, to dancing and having tumbles in quiet corners, or in front of everyone. There’s something for everyone and every taste.”

Boring . The thought came unbidden to her mind.

For someone who wanted to enjoy herself, she found that almost every activity was boring or became boring after five minutes. Oddly enough, she’d never been bored when she’d spent her days bent over books of anatomy.

“The only rule is not to talk about the Scarlet Room with anyone,” Daphne said.

“How did you learn about it then?”

Daphne waved a hand. “Well, I guess you can talk about it, but only with people who would enjoy it without judging it. Anyway, it’d be better if you’d keep your mouth shut.”

That wouldn’t be a problem. Aside from Daphne, Edith didn’t have anyone to talk to. The people she went to parties with weren’t really friends. Just acquaintances to have fun with, never to talk to or confide about the turmoil that made her sad sometimes.

But sadness had no place in her life; it reminded her of how close to death she’d been. She was young and deserved something different, something more exciting than worrying about studying.

She would never confide in her parents, and since Marianne had married that viscount, she spent more time with her new friends than with her sister.

The carriage stopped in front of the entrance to a narrow alleyway on the border with Whitechapel. A dense fog lingered, thick and motionless, as if London were holding its breath. The glow from the gas streetlamps created a sinister halo against the backdrop of the dark brick walls. Overall, the view was an echo of how she felt inside.

“We’ll have to walk a little.” Daphne jumped out of her seat with the same enthusiasm as someone hopping into a colourful party.

Instead, Edith inched out of the carriage, ready to get back inside. The air was thick with humidity and the smell of cheap ale.

“No need to worry.” Daphne waved her closer. “Trust me. It’s going to be wonderful.”

Edith doubted that, but the alternative was to return home and think about the best way to tell the truth to Perry. No, a foggy, damp alleyway where a felon might lurk was better; it promised to keep her mind busy.

They took the dimly lit, dirty alleyway. It was so narrow they couldn’t walk side by side, and Edith’s skirt skimmed the walls.

She nearly slipped on the wet cobbles as a rat rushed past her. “Where are we going?”

“Patience.” Daphne marched on, seemingly oblivious to the darkness and gloominess of the alleyway.

“Someone might attack us. Don’t you read the newspapers?”

“No, I don’t. They’re depressing.” Daphne paused, a hand on her hip. “Where’s your sense of adventure? You’re complaining a lot as of late.”

“That’s not true.”

“Last week, you left Neville’s party early.”

“I was bored.” Also, the fact Lord Neville was Perry’s young uncle never failed to upset her. “And he always hugs me, touches me, and kisses me even when I ask him to stop.”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “Goodness, you’re becoming so prudish. He’s just being affectionate. Since you got that news about… what’s his name?”

Edith pursed her lips, not wanting to comment on her relationship with Perry.

“Oh, right,” Daphne said, “Peregrine. Since he wrote to you that he’d return here, you’re all fidgety and forlorn. Isn’t he Neville’s nephew and the new Earl of Ravenscroft?”

“He has nothing to do with my mood.”

Daphne inched closer, which brought her almost face-to-face with Edith since the space was limited. “Is there some juicy story between you and him aside from that dreadful incident? Something you didn’t tell me? A dirty tumble?”

“No, Perry and I have never been affectionate .”

“Oh, Perry.” Daphne chuckled. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

“Besides, I thought Neville was interested in courting you.”

“He is, but we’re happy to pursue other interests at the same time. He needs to marry. I need to get married. We liked each other, but I don’t want to stop having fun just because I’m going to be a wife. Neville and I have a clear understanding.”

Edith widened her eyes in silent shock. To each their own, but she wanted to find someone who deeply cared for her and with whom she’d share her life with love and respect.

Daphne pointed a finger at her. “That stunned expression again. You truly are becoming a prude. Neville and I only think about a smart match. I have a sizable dowry. He’s fairly wealthy. We enjoy each other’s company. That’s all.”

“If you two are happy, then it’s all right,” Edith said.

“Just follow me. Whatever afflicts you, the Scarlet Room will cure it.”

There was some truth in Daphne’s words. Perry’s return troubled Edith although the whole affair was her fault. She’d chosen to lie to him, and now she had no choice but to face him and confess. She hoped the Scarlet Room lived up to its expectations and made her forget about everything for a few hours.

Daphne stopped in front of a flight of stairs heading down. The view was a far cry from inviting. Edith almost expected a man wielding a bloody axe to jump out of the shadows and attack them.

“Nearly there,” Daphne said.

Their footsteps echoed off the brick walls. The cobblestones were as slippery as soap, and the ominous sound of water dripping from somewhere gave her goosebumps.

She paused at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m not sure I want to keep going.”

“My goodness!” Daphne’s voice thundered in the confined space. “What is wrong with you tonight? You do nothing but whine. Trust me. Have I ever disappointed you?”

In terms of entertainment, no. Daphne had always found the craziest things to do and the wildest people to spend time with.

Daphne took Edith’s arm. “We need to hurry because the gatekeepers of the Scarlet Room open the doors only at certain hours through the night. If we miss this opportunity, we’ll have to wait two hours until the doors open again, and I don’t want to spend two hours in a cold alley.”

She almost wished they missed their opportunity to have an excuse to return home. Goodness, her emotions were all over the place. Her head was going to burst.

The passage widened and opened onto a landing where other people waited in silence in front of a set of double doors. The ornate doors with their golden knobs and corners were a stark contrast with the dark alleyway.

Edith and Daphne’s arrival caused a quick stir through the small crowd, but no one said anything. She shifted her weight from one foot to another, asking herself once again if she really, really wanted to go on.

Why she was so upset, she wouldn’t know. Perry wouldn’t see her tonight. She had plenty of time to prepare a speech to explain to him why she’d lied. Her relentlessness started to annoy even herself, and the constant water dripping grated on her nerves.

The doors inched inwards, revealing a rather normal and cosy sitting room. The view was nothing exciting. She’d imagined something more Gothic or outrageous.

“Finally.” Daphne took her hand in excitement.

“Welcome.” A man in a dark suit similar to that of a butler bowed to the small group.

The others filed inside, whispering in thrilled tones. Edith instead dragged herself forwards.

When the butler locked the doors behind them, she tugged her capelet more tightly around her shoulders as a sudden chill slithered down her back.

The others chatted, raising their voices. A sofa and a few armchairs were scattered around, and a warm log fire burned in the hearth. The butler placed a stack of papers on a polished table. The lights from the gas lamps glinted off its shiny surface, bothering her eyes after the darkness. Light after darkness always hurt.

“Ladies and gentlemen, before you proceed into the Scarlet Room, you need to sign this contract and pay the sum of seven pounds each. If you find yourself unable to sign the contract or to pay the fee for any reason, I must ask you to leave.”

“You have the money, don’t you?” Daphne asked.

“Of course. Marianne gave it to me.”

Because Edith couldn’t ask her parents for money, and because she’d exhausted the money she’d set aside. And her parents… they didn’t know how she spent her nights.

She read her copy of the contract, forcing herself to focus.

The customers had to pledge not to reveal anything that happened in the Scarlet Room, not to use what they saw or heard as leverage against other customers, not to gossip about other customers’ choices of entertainment… and many other things Edith wasn’t supposed to do under the pain of receiving a ridiculously high fine or even imprisonment.

There were other rules, terms, and conditions written in fine print; something about verbal contracts stipulated between two customers. When a customer proposed a deal or a dare to another customer, and both parties agreed to the deal, then both parties were considered?—

“Just sign,” Daphne said, flipping through the pages to the last one. “It’s all legal jargon we wouldn’t understand anyway.”

That was true, and Edith’s head hurt. She didn’t plan to talk to any stranger anyway, so she wrote her name and address and signed the contract.

Daphne didn’t even read it. She quickly wrote her name and handed the contract back to the butler with her money. After everyone had signed, the butler led them to a cloakroom.

Edith reluctantly removed her capelet. It provided a sort of comfort.

“You won’t regret this.” Daphne shrugged off her cloak and handed it to another dark-suited man.

A little frisson of excitement went through Edith when finally the butler opened a second heavy-looking set of double doors. Loud music, laughter, and happy voices ricocheted off the walls. Dark-red was the predominant colour, from the curtains to the carpet and wainscoting. Even the candles were red. It was like entering the gaping maw of a monster.

Daphne grabbed Edith’s hand and dragged her inside. “Let the fun begin.”

The smell of opium mingled with that of different perfumes, flowers—all red, of course—and something else spicy. Scantily dressed people played at a pool table. There were ladies sitting on gentlemen’s laps, kissing couples, and in general, people with not many clothes on.

Others drank, danced, or sang seemingly without rhyme or reason. In the dark corners, she caught glimpses of couples doing more than kissing. In another corner, other couples did… something she couldn’t fully understand with ropes and scarves; if it was a style of tumble, she wouldn’t know which one.

The whole atmosphere was exciting, and above all, it obliterated any other thought in her mind. Exactly what she wanted.

Her smile faltered as she swept her gaze through the room. The sight of a swimming pool filled with water dampened her enthusiasm. Just looking at the quivering surface made her want to throw up. Her breathing sped up as the phantom chill of the Thames’s water froze her.

Confused visions of herself swimming in the river flashed through her mind. Most of the time, the desperation and fear of that moment threatened to overwhelm her. She’d calculated that she’d stayed in the water for no more than fifteen minutes among flaming pieces of wood and shards of metal. A rather short time. Her daily lunch took twice that time. Yet those fifteen minutes had seemed a year and tortured her to this day. How odd.

She’d do her level best to avoid and ignore that pool.

“Come. What happened to you?” Daphne tugged at her hand. “Valentine is over there at the card table. I’m in a mood for a card game.” She led Edith to a side room that looked like a whist club.

Edith averted her gaze from the pool, but she came to a grinding halt when she spotted Neville sitting next to Valentine. “That’s Neville.”

Daphne exhaled noisily. “Well spotted.”

“I’m not sure I want to spend the evening in his company.”

“Ignore Neville if you want. Tell him to leave you alone again. But don’t let him ruin your evening and don’t ruin mine.”

Ignoring Neville wasn’t easy, especially since he looked like Perry. Same midnight hair and blue eyes. Even their straight noses and strong jaws were the same. But since she could do whatever she wanted in the Scarlet Room without any consequences, she would deal with him however she pleased.

Whatever card game some people were playing, it didn’t involve money since no gaming token lay on the table.

“How does that game work?” she asked, pointing to a table.

“You lose, you remove a garment.” Daphne wiggled her eyebrows. “Isn’t that thrilling? And remember, anything that happens here stays here. No consequences.”

Edith’s pulse spiked. Finally, excitement. “Good evening.”

Neville and Valentine stood up, habits she guessed since they weren’t obliged to.

“Hello, gentlemen.” Daphne clamped a hand on Neville’s neck and pulled him down for a passionate kiss.

Edith couldn’t completely stifle a gasp as they kissed rather ardently.

“Edith is becoming a prude,” Daphne said, once she disentangled her tongue from Neville’s. “But she did pose for one of Valentine’s paintings today.”

Neville chuckled. “He’s lucky to have beautiful models who pose for him.”

“Who wouldn’t pose for him?” Daphne said, taking a chair.

Neville shuffled the cards, staring at Edith with an intensity she didn’t like. “Is something the matter? You look upset.”

“It’s because of that nephew of yours,” Daphne said with a dismissive hand. “Since Edith learnt he was back, she’s very uptight.”

“Daphne!”

Neville stopped shuffling the cards. “Why would that be?”

Maybe it was Edith’s imagination, but she heard a strained note in his voice. “I haven’t seen Perry in years. I’m nervous.”

“Are you two close?” Neville asked, leaning forth.

“We’re friends.”

Daphne poked her with an elbow. “More than friends, I’m sure.”

Neville narrowed his glacial eyes, resuming the shuffling.

“The way Edith blushes said it all,” Valentine said.

Edith ignored them. “What’s the game?”

“Whist.” Neville dealt the cards. “Our clothes are the tokens. Let’s place a bet. The winner can choose to have a tumble with one of the losers, or more than one.”

Edith closed her fists. “Absolutely not.”

“Spoilsport. Just play. Why do you care?” Daphne said, handing her a glass of champagne she’d taken from somewhere. “It’s just for fun. No consequences, remember?”

“Well?” Neville prompted. “I’m game.”

Absolutely not. She would never, ever have a tumble with either Neville or Valentine.

She took the glass of champagne. “I don’t make these types of bets.”

She was a liar and a fraud, but she still had some dignity.

And that was it.