The Notorious Mr Hurst. Louise Allen

was doing unchaperoned in Mr Hurst’s office at eleven in the evening.

      He led them through a maze of corridors and out into the night. Maude drew her veil down over her face and raised the hood of her cloak to shield her face from the crowd of gentlemen who were milling around the stage door, inside and out, while the stage door-keeper produced a hackney with a blast on his whistle. She allowed Mr Hurst to seat her in the vehicle before he stood back to allow the Misses Corwin to scramble in unaided. ‘Thank you, sir.’

      ‘Thank you, ma’am. Until eleven, then.’ He stopped to give the driver an address in the city, then turned away as the carriage rattled out into the late evening bustle of Long Acre.

      Maude waited with interest to see what her two companions would say now they were alone with her. In the gloom of the carriage they fidgeted, whispered and eventually one of them blurted out, ‘You won’t tell anyone, will you, Lady Maude?’

      ‘What exactly do you not wish me to reveal?’ she enquired coolly, finding herself irrationally annoyed with the pair of them. Why she should feel so protective of Eden Hurst she had no idea. He was more than capable of looking after himself, if their encounter in the corridor was anything to go by. If he had pounced on one of these girls in that manner, she would have fled screaming, just as he intended, no doubt. They quite obviously had not got a tendre for him, either of them, so what on earth were they about, risking ruin like this?

      ‘That we were trying to…um, encourage Mr Hurst into making an offer,’ the shorter one ventured.

      ‘For which of you?’ Maude enquired, intrigued. Yes, he had known about this plot and had mistaken her in the gloom for one of these silly girls.

      ‘With any of us. Mama thinks he will, because he wants Papa to invest in his theatre, but we aren’t sure because he never takes any notice of us. We don’t understand it,’ she added naïvely, ‘because we are ever so well dowered.’

      ‘Perhaps Mr Hurst already has an attachment?’ Maude ventured, finding her irritation turning into something more like amusement until she realised that might very well be the case. She had no idea—Eden Hurst was a very private man.

      ‘Well, if he has, it isn’t anyone from amongst the merchant families. Papa would know,’ the taller sister offered confidently. ‘And he can’t marry anyone in society, because of being a bastard.’

      That was a relief. Then Miss Corwin’s words sank in. ‘A…a what?’

      ‘Bastard. Although Mama says not to use that word and say love begotten, instead. But it doesn’t matter really, because his father was an Italian prince or something equally grand.’

      That would explain his colouring, Maude thought hazily. Was Eden Hurst illegitimate? She had never heard a whisper, although it was not the sort of thing mentioned in front of unmarried ladies. Oh, Lord, if he was, that would be another obstacle to overcome. Trade was bad enough, the scandalous world of theatre even worse. Being the love child of an Italian prince was hardly going to make it any better. Papa was going to have palpitations, poor man, when he was finally presented with Eden Hurst as a son-in-law.

      The hackney cab stopped. ‘We’re home.’

      ‘And how do you propose to get in?’ Maude enquired. They did not appear to be too worried by the prospect.

      ‘Through the service area.’ The girl hesitated on the carriage step. ‘Thank you, Lady Maude.’

      ‘Well, don’t do anything like this again. If I were you, I would not talk about this little adventure to anyone,’ she added repressively. ‘And please tell the driver to take me to Berkeley Square.’

      Maude was deep in thought when the hackney came to a halt again. The door was stiff and the light from the flambeaux either side of the Standons’ house flickered wildly in the stiff breeze. She almost tripped getting down, then stood shivering while she fumbled in her reticule.

      ‘All right, m’lady, Mr Hurst paid,’ the man said, leaning round to slam the door shut.

      ‘Oh. How kind of him.’ Maude felt very tired all of a sudden. The shallow steps up to the front door seemed endless as she looked at them. Her hopes for the evening had been vague, beyond making contact with Eden Hurst, but she had not expected to be ruthlessly kissed and then find herself chaperoning two girls.

      ‘He’s come along to see you home,’ the man added over his shoulder as the horse moved off.

      As she stared across the corner of the square she saw another hackney drawn up, a tall figure standing by its open door. He raised a hand in acknowledgement as he saw her looking at him, then climbed back in. Maude drew her cloak around her and ran up the steps to Jessica’s house, no longer tired.

       Chapter Two

      ‘Lady Maude, your ladyship.’ Jordan, the Standon’s butler, managed not to appear shocked by her unannounced arrival on the doorstep at almost midnight without so much as a valise about her person.

      ‘Maude darling, I thought you said you couldn’t come tonight.’ Jessica put down her book, removed her stockinged feet from the fender and regarded her with mild surprise.

      ‘I was trying not to tell an untruth to anyone,’ Maude explained. ‘Thank you, Jordan, a cup of tea would be perfect. And one of the special ginger biscuits if Cook has made any,’ she added hopefully.

      ‘You intrigue me vastly.’ Jessica curled up in her chair and waved Maude towards the one opposite. ‘You have been exploring at the Unicorn, I surmise?’

      ‘How did you guess?’ Maude kicked off her slippers and tucked herself up in the depths of the chair.

      ‘Where else would you have slipped off to? Reveal all,’ she commanded, reminding Maude that her friend had once been a governess.

      ‘I told Papa that you had invited me and let him think I was coming back here with you directly after the performance. And I told you he was expecting me to go home with him, without actually saying that I did not intend to.’

      ‘There is a word for that sort of thing. Devious.’

      ‘I prefer to think of it as considerate. No one was worried.’

      ‘Go on—’ Jessica broke off as Jordan entered with a tray loaded with tea things, bread and butter, some tiny cakes and the famous ginger biscuits. ‘Thank you, Jordan, that will be all for tonight. His lordship will let himself in.’

      Maude waited patiently while Jessica poured two cups of tea and then pounced on a biscuit. ‘I’m famished. Well, my intention was to visit Madame Marguerite in her dressing room and congratulate her upon her performance and while I was at it, just happen to encounter Mr Hurst and make an appointment to discuss a business matter.’

      ‘And?’ Jessica nibbled a triangle of bread and butter.

      ‘I, er…encountered Mr Hurst first.’

      ‘And he threw you out? You do look somewhat flustered.’

      ‘He kissed me. Ruthlessly, indecently. Without mercy. Until I almost lost the use of my legs. The man is a complete rake.’

      ‘Oh, my dear! How frightful, you must be devastated—’ Her face full of concern, Jessica put down her cup and began to scramble to her feet.

      ‘It was wonderful,’ Maude finished. It was beginning to feel unreal, like an incredible dream. Only, her mouth still felt swollen and all those alarmingly wonderful sensations kept rippling through her whenever she thought about Eden’s body pressed intimately to hers.

      Jessica sat down again with a thump. ‘Is that all he did?’ she demanded. ‘Kiss you?’

      ‘Yes, although I don’t think all is quite the word. But he thought I was someone else. He was extremely courteous afterwards