Lavender shrugged. ‘I don’t care what other people think about us,’ he said. ‘I think I’ve made that quite plain.’
‘Yes, but you’re well matched,’ said Woods. ‘Betsy said so.’
The other men regarded Woods curiously for a moment, then Read began to tidy up his desk. He shuffled the papers from one side of the desk to another and picked up a quill. He scowled and his voice became laced with sarcasm. ‘Well, if your union has the blessing of Betsy Woods – then who am I to object? I’m not sure that Mrs Read will be so comfortable with this marriage, though. You do realise, don’t you Lavender, that she may never be able to receive your Catholic wife?’
‘I’m not sure that we care,’ Lavender said. ‘Besides which, I don’t think Magdalena will be inviting you and Mrs Read to the wedding. I don’t think she has forgiven you yet for putting her life in danger – and neither have I.’
Read gasped at the insult and the quill he was twirling fell out of his hands.
‘I say, you fellahs!’ Sackville burst out laughing. He stood up and pushed back his chair. ‘I think it is time I left. You’ve obviously got some talking to do to resolve things between yourselves. Woods?’
‘Yes, sir?’ he said.
‘If this spat escalates and they pull out the duelling pistols, then you have my permission to lock them both up in the cells.’
Woods grinned. ‘Yes, sir.’
Both Read and Lavender suddenly looked uncomfortable.
‘It won’t come to that,’ Lavender said. He also rose to his feet. ‘There is nothing else to be said. The matter of my marriage is decided, whether Magistrate Read likes it or not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will take the rest of the day off – as I said, I have some private business to attend to.’
Read pushed a file across the desk towards him. ‘Before you go, take this,’ he snapped. ‘It’s the details of your next case – in Northamptonshire. There’s been a series of burglaries and the authorities need some help. You should leave tomorrow. I think we may need to put a few miles between us for a while, Detective Lavender.
Woods grimaced at the formality in Read’s tone as Lavender nodded.
‘With any luck, you should have the matter resolved and be back in London in time for your nuptials.’
Lavender picked up the file and glanced at him coldly. ‘Oh, don’t worry yourself, Magistrate Read,’ he said. ‘I will be back in town in time for my wedding. But obviously, in Northamptonshire, I’ll need Woods’ help.’
For a moment it looked like Read would refuse, but then he threw up his hands in resignation. ‘Oh for God’s sake, take him,’ he snapped. ‘The horse patrol has forgotten what he bloody looks like anyway.’
Woods found Lavender down by the river, sitting on a crate and staring out at the water. Seagulls circled noisily overhead but it was quieter down here away from the hustle and bustle of the market hawkers and gin shops of Covent Garden. The tide was partially out and the heaving water slapped against the muddy banks. A small group of ragged urchins prodded at the mud, hunting for shellfish. A myriad of little boats and tall ships bobbed up and down in the choppy water.
There was a cold breeze but the detective didn’t seem to notice it. He stared thoughtfully across the river at the wharfs on the south bank. Woods figured that Lavender was still probably brooding about the events of Saturday night. Betsy always said that happiness spins on a sixpence, and he could see that now. If they’d arrived a few moments later – or if Alfie Tummins hadn’t been on the spot to help them – then things may have gone tragically wrong for his friend. It was a chilling thought. But Woods reckoned that Lavender didn’t need reminding about that right now.
‘Congratulations again, sir,’ he said cheerfully, as he rolled up a barrel and sat down beside him. ‘Don’t worry about Magistrate Read; he’ll come around to the notion of your marriage in the end.’
Lavender nodded. ‘I know he will.’
‘I knew you’d talk Doña Magdalena around eventually. It’s going to be an excitin’ new life for you both.’
Lavender smiled.
‘Of course this is goin’ to cost me a new hat for Betsy,’ Woods continued, ‘and probably a new coat for myself.’
Confusion flickered across Lavender’s face. ‘I don’t think you’ll need a new coat, Ned. I suspect it will be a quiet affair; Magdalena has no family except Sebastián, and it looks like that apart from you, Sackville and my family, hardly anyone else I know approves of our match.’
‘If you want me to stand up for you, I’ll need to look smart.’
‘Stand up for me?’
‘Aye, you’ll need a witness for your nuptials, won’t you? And as you haven’t got no brothers, I thought I’d offer my services.’
Lavender’s smile broadened. ‘I’d be honoured to have you as my witness, Ned.’
‘Well, that’s settled then. Of course the gals will have to arrange the weddin’ while we sort out those thievin’ joskins up in Northamptonshire.’
Lavender groaned. ‘I hadn’t thought about that. Magdalena won’t be pleased.’
‘Oh, don’t worry. They’ll be glad to have us out of the way. Betsy will help Doña Magdalena. She loves a good knees-up, does my Betsy.’
‘My life will never be the same again, will it?’ Lavender said quietly.
‘No, sir. Not with a feisty new bride, a stepson, a new home and a gaggle of servants to control.’ His eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘It’ll burn a big hole in your savin’s too. I can’t see as you’ll have much peace from now on. Your bachelor days are over.’ He shook his head in mock solemnity. ‘And then of course, there’s Alfie Tummins.’
‘Tummins? What does he have to do it?’
‘The lad seems rather taken with young Teresa,’ Woods said, and winked. ‘He came back to see me yesterday and asked if he could walk out with her. I think he thought that I was her da. Obviously, I must have picked up a Spanish twang to my cockney accent over the years.’
Lavender looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. ‘Does Magdalena know?’ he asked. ‘I dread to think how she would react to the news that a young coachman wants to woo Teresa. She’s very protective of her maid.’
‘She doesn’t know yet,’ Woods said, ‘but I’m sure that Betsy will tell her. I sent young Tummins away with a flea in his ear, of course – but I reckon that he won’t take no for an answer. So no doubt you’ll find him loiterin’ outside your servant’s entrance when you move into your new house in Marylebone.’
Lavender smiled. ‘I’m taking Magdalena up to the house this lunchtime to discuss furnishings.’
‘Ooh, that’ll cost you.’
‘And we’re attending a soirée at Lady Caroline’s tonight.’
Woods whistled. ‘Lady Caroline Clare? That feisty aristocratic doxy?’
‘Yes. She’s a bit risqué, of course, but at least she’s a Catholic and sympathetic to interfaith unions. Her first husband was a Rothschild. Magdalena and I will have to seek out friends from amongst the like-minded.’
‘Well, you’ve always got us,’ Woods said. ‘Me and Betsy.’
Lavender smiled. ‘Then we are blessed,’ he said, simply.
‘I’m just glad that you decided to make an honest woman of Doña Magdalena,’ Woods continued.
Lavender narrowed his eyes. ‘What do you mean by that, Ned?’
Woods grinned, winked and leant towards him. ‘When a man arrives home to his rooms in Southwark at three o’clock on a Sunday afternoon – still wearin’ the same muddied boots and sweat-stained clothin’ he was last seen wearin’ on Saturday night – then a good police officer can only deduce one thing. You stayed all night in her bed, didn’t you?’
Lavender’s expression flitted between amusement and annoyance but he didn’t reply.
Unabashed, Woods sat back on his barrel and continued. ‘I’ve always had you marked down as a bit of a dark horse, sir – with rakish tendencies. Now I know that for sure. They say that y
ou quiet ones are the worst and you’ve always been the quiet, bookish type.’
Lavender struggled to keep the amusement out of his voice. ‘And I’ve always said that your powers of detection are wasted on the horse patrol, Ned. We must get you promoted to principal officer as soon as possible.’
Woods laughed smugly and tapped the side of his broad nose. ‘I have my informers in Southwark.’
‘Yes.’ Lavender’s voice was now heavy with irony. ‘I know you do. I saw your Dan loitering on the other side of the street when I climbed out of my cab yesterday afternoon. How much did you have to pay him to stand there and spy on me?’
‘It’s never too early for the nippers to practise for a bit of undercover work,’ Woods replied. ‘Besides which, it got him out from under Betsy’s feet for a while.’
‘Well, make sure you tell him that next time he’s undercover, he’s to restrain himself from shouting: “Good afternoon, Uncle Stephen!” across the street.’
‘You’ll have to start thinkin’ about such things yourself now, like trainin’ up the nippers,’ Woods said. ‘It won’t be long before you have one in the cradle – especially if you carry on like this.’
Lavender choked slightly and stood up. ‘Lord help me!’ he muttered, but he was smiling.
Sunshine forced its way through the clouds and made the tips of the choppy waves on the Thames sparkle. It was going to be a beautiful day. Cold, but sunny. Woods rose to stand beside him and for a few moments the two men remained in companionable silence, watching the river and taking in the wide sweep of the city skyline and docks on the south bank.
‘What were it that Wordsworth fellah said about our Mother Thames?’ Woods asked.
‘“Earth hath not anything to show more fair”,’ Lavender said. ‘“Dull would he be of soul who could pass by a sight so touching in its majesty . . .”’
‘Well, maybe he were right,’ Woods admitted grudgingly. ‘She can put on a good show, can old Mother Thames.’ He paused for a minute then added: ‘A bit like us, really.’
‘Yes, Ned,’ Lavender said, smiling. ‘We’ve put on a show sans pareil.’
‘English, sir, English,’ said Woods.
Author’s Notes
I love the theatre and acting. I enjoyed amateur dramatics as a young woman and I spent most of my teens and twenties performing in a string of productions. For me, no trip down to London is complete with an evening spent at a show in a West End theatre.
The proximity of Bow Street Magistrates’ Court to the heart of London’s theatre district was a fact I couldn’t ignore when I began to plot this novel. I was drawn to those lively but seedy streets of Regency Covent Garden and immersed myself in research about the vibrant theatrical culture of the time.
After I decided that Lavender and Woods’ latest case would begin with the suspicious death of an actress, I looked for a theatre in which to base the action. Originally, I wanted to use the world-famous Drury Lane Theatre in the novel. However, in February 1810, they shut Drury Lane for rebuilding after a devastating fire.
Swallowing my disappointment, I switched the action to the new theatre on the Strand, the lesser-known Sans Pareil Theatre – and what a fortunate decision that turned out to be. My research revealed that in 1810, the Sans Pareil (now known as the Adelphi) was run and operated by a woman: Jane Scott.
Miss Scott wasn’t just the only female theatre owner in nineteenth-century London, she also wrote most of the burlettas and Gothic melodramas they performed and she starred in them too. For a historical fiction author who likes strong, independent female characters, I had landed on my feet. I’d got a real-life historical trail-blazer in my book, my own Sister of Gore.
I found the information on the website of the Adelphi Theatre Calendar Project particularly helpful when researching the early years of the Sans Pareil Theatre, and I would like to thank Dr Theodore J. Seward and his colleagues for contacting me with further help. Dr Seward also pointed out that the famous image of the ornate entrance to the Sans Pareil Theatre with its Doric pillars, which we have adapted for the cover of this novel, was not built until 1814 – four years after the date of my story. In reality, Lavender, Magdalena and Teresa would have had to walk down a dark alleyway at the side of the theatre in order to enter the building in 1810. And more worryingly, so would the Duke of Clarence and his mistress, Dorothy Jordan. After much deliberation, I decided to use some artistic licence with the architecture and let my characters use the theatre entrance in the famous image.
It was inevitable during the writing of this novel that I would also be drawn to the character of Dorothy Jordan. The most famous comic actress of her day, Dorothy Jordan kept a prince and ten children out of her wages. She and Sarah Siddons, the great Tragedy Queen, dominated the stage – and the headlines – in the London news-sheets of the early nineteenth century. I’ve always had a lot of sympathy for Mrs Jordan, who was eventually discarded by her lover, the Duke of Clarence, and ended her days as a pauper in France. I wanted her to have a role in my novel.
With Jane Scott and Dorothy Jordan – and a bevy of other strong-minded fictional female characters – my novel was developing a clear theme. But I didn’t want the book to become romanticised and unrealistic. Theirs was a tough world. I knew that there would be a high cost to pay for this liberation and independence in such a restrictive, bigoted and male-dominated society. At the risk of alienating my readers, I decided to make all of their lives challenging and show how each of them made difficult – and not necessary savoury – choices in order to survive and thrive.
As Lavender says: ‘I have begun to notice that women have their own ways of ensuring their survival . . . Sometimes they can take a shocking course of action.’
I have thoroughly enjoyed returning to the world of Stephen Lavender and Ned Woods for this novel and I promise that I won’t leave it quite so long before I’m back with my intrepid crime-fighting duo again.
I would like to thank Jean Gill, Babs Morton, Kristin Gleeson, Claire Stibbe and Jane Harlond for their help and support with the manuscript. I particularly need to thank Jane for all her help with the Spanish language. I would also like to thank the editing team at Thomas & Mercer for all their support, encouragement and hard work.
Finally, to you, the reader, thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, please leave a review on Amazon.
Karen Charlton
14 January 2015
Marske, North Yorkshire
Bibliography
David J. Cox, A Certain Share of Low Cunning: A History of the Bow Street Runners 1792–1839 (Willan Publishing, 2010).
Percy Fitzgerald, Chronicles of Bow Street Police-Office, vol. 1 (Cambridge University Press, 2011).
John C. Franceschina (ed.), Sisters of Gore: Seven Gothic Melodramas by British Women, 1790–1843 (Routledge, 2011).
Federico García Lorca, The House of Bernada Alba, tr. David Hare (Faber & Faber Plays, 2014).
Stephen Hart, Cant: A Gentleman’s Guide to the Language of Rogues in Georgian London (Improbable Fictions, 2014).
Jean Plaidy, Goddess of the Green Room (Cornerstone Digital, 2012).
Robert Southey, ‘Mary – A Ballad’, in Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey (Delphi Classics, 2013).
William Wordsworth, ‘Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802’, in Poems, in Two Volumes (Longman, 1807).
About the Author
Photo © 2014 Jean Gill
Karen Charlton writes historical mystery and is also the author of a nonfiction genealogy book, Seeking Our Eagle. She has published short stories and numerous articles and reviews in newspapers and magazines. An English graduate and ex-teacher, Karen has led writing workshops and has spoken at a series of literary events across the North of England, where she lives. Karen now writes full-time and is currently working on the third Detective Lavender Mystery for Thomas & Mercer.
A stalwart of the village pub quiz and a member of a winning team on the BBC quiz s
how Eggheads, Karen also enjoys the theatre and she won a Yorkshire Tourist Board award for her Murder Mystery Weekends.
Find out more about Karen’s work at http://www.karencharlton.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Author’s Notes
Bibliography
About the Author
The Sans Pareil Mystery (The Detective Lavender Mysteries Book 2) Page 30
