Laurent’s Casino was located in the Adelaide Gallery on the north end of the Lowther Arcade, on the Strand. It was only a short drive east of Mayfair, though the streets were clogged enough to slow them down.
Della kept peering out the window to catch a glimpse of their surroundings, while Lord Ashton reminded her to stay out of sight and not speak to anyone every few minutes, looking very stern all the while.
The poor man. If the carriage ride over had him this worked up, how would he survive an evening of debauchery?
She couldn’t wait to find out.
Lord Ashton paid the coachman and handed Della down from the carriage. Was it her imagination, or did his fingers linger on hers for the barest moment? He moved as if about to assist Annabelle, then quickly turned away, remembering she was supposed to be a gentleman.
The building was quite large and stately, as were those on either side. Della had been here back when the building used to house the Royal Gallery of Practical Science. It had been a popular attraction for children and families until it closed and was replaced by the present casino, which was said to be far more profitable.
There was a marked difference between the gallery of her memory and its current circumstances. Lively music was punctuated by the occasional whoops and cheers of the revelers inside. A number of ladies were gathered in the shelter of the Italianate columns before the door, laughing together and without any man to accompany them. They were as well dressed as she was, and Della might have mistaken them for members of the upper class, had not one turned to a passing gentleman just then and leered at him invitingly.
Why, I needn’t have worried about my gown at all!They looked just like anyone else.
“Remember not to talk to anyone,” Lord Ashton said for the hundredth time, as they approached the entrance. “Keep your head down.”
Della lifted her fan to conceal her face. Ashton drew a deep breath and turned over six shillings to the doorman, receiving three tin tokens in exchange.
The entrance opened into a large, carpeted room, furnished as handsomely as anything one might see in a Mayfair town house. Gas jets lit the glittering chandeliers above them, making Della rather conscious that the place was not so dark as she might have hoped.Lord Ashton must have shared the same concern, for he led them directly upstairs to the first floor. Della lingered at the bottom of the steps, striving to take in as much as she could before she was whisked away. The majority of the ground floor, which had once held exhibits on the functioning of steam engines or the application of laughing gas, had been stripped bare and converted for dancing. What little space was not occupied by the dance floor belonged to the liquor counters, which were doing a brisk trade. Della had no time to observe any more, for Lord Ashton hissed, “Come here!” and jerked his head toward the stairs.
She followed him up to a balcony, where the difference in class immediately became evident. The dancers below, still visible to Della through the railing, were mainly dressed in the style of clerks and tradesmen. Upstairs, the gentlemen wore full evening attire like Lord Ashton. The ladies were all in silks, with long trains and heavy jewelry. She could have mistaken them for her social equals, until a blonde called out for more “fizz” and lit herself a cigarette.
The band was situated on the opposite gallery, above the dancers. They were a larger number than she would have expected, perhaps forty or fifty all told, and very skillful. She understood the conductor to be Laurent himself, who was said to be the best in all of London.
“This way,” Lord Ashton said, and led them to an alcove that was tucked away from view, just beyond the bar. It was fitted with paintings on all sides: Leda in the embrace of the swan; Europa riding the white bull.
“My, there certainly is a common theme to these.”
“Hmm?” Lord Ashton followed her gaze. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed.”
“I hope this doesn’t reflect on the evening’s entertainment.”
He paused to consider the paintings for a moment before responding, “I expect all the performers to be human.”
He said it so seriously that she had to laugh.
“Don’t do that,” Lord Ashton looked to either side of them, as if fearing eavesdroppers. “It attracts attention.”
Della doubted the risk was as great as he thought. The casino wasn’t too crowded (perhaps because it was ten in the evening on a Monday), and those who had come were concentrated on the dance floor.
But Lord Ashton was only trying to protect her in his own way, so she whispered, “I’ll do my best.” It seemed to reassure him.
“We can’t see anything from back here,” Annabelle complained. “I’m going to move closer to the railing.”
“Don’t.” Lord Ashton must be the sort of man who was used to bringing others in line with a look, but his powers of glowering were wasted on Annabelle, who stood and marched herself to the edge of the balcony.
“I’m going to go too,” Della whispered. “Just for a minute.”
“Why did you bother asking me to accompany you if you had no intention of listening to a word I say?” he ground out through clenched teeth.
“Only a minute!” Della hurried to follow her sister.
“Is that Lord Palmerston?” Annabelle tipped her chin toward a clean-shaven man in his fifties, who was seated on a plush velvet sofa some distance from them, flanked by two ladies several decades his junior.
“It could be,” Lord Ashton replied. He’d crept up on Della’s other side, startling her with his nearness. He smelled clean—like freshly laundered sheets and something warmer just beneath it. Sandalwood, maybe? She couldn’t tell if it was a very mild cologne or just the natural scent of him. “This place is popular among men from all ranks of life.”
Della took in the scene below with eyes wide enough to capture every detail. There were some sixty-odd couples on the floor, andtheir dance was at once familiar and unlike that of any ballroom she had attended. They repeated movements she knew, but without any of the ordered unity she expected. One couple danced a waltz, another a polka, with no regard for their neighbors. Miraculously, no one crashed into anyone else. They all seemed to be having the time of their lives. Though their dance might be unconventional, Della noted there was no rough behavior from anyone. Where there weren’t enough partners for all, a pair of ladies even danced together, and no one seemed to pay them much mind.
