Mr. Ryder unfolded to his feet, plucking up his walking stick. “You haven’t. I was just about to leave.”
I circled my desk. “I’ll show you out. And then speak with these protesters.” The word tasted foul on my tongue. “I won’t tolerate my members being pelted with fruit.”
Mr. Ryder held up his hand. “If they have descended to throwing things, you, as the main object of their hatred, need to stay inside. I’ll speak with them.”
I pursed my lips. He could be an effective spokesman, especially if he was the one who—
“I didn’t organize this,” he said, as though reading my mind, “but I’ll speak with them. Don’t leave this club until they have dispersed.” And with a nod to Eleanor and myself, he departed.
I suppose his order was kindly given. That he had the sort of generalized concern for my well-being as he would for any human.
That knowledge didn’t stop it from vexing me. “Bother! The nerve of the man.”
Eleanor folded her handkerchief, giving up on cleaning her sleeve. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” I looked at the cake on my desk but decided I needed something more substantial. Anger always seemed tostoke my appetite. “Come on. Let’s see if the kitchen can make us anything to go with that tomato.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lady Mary
The workers ofThe Minerva Club, Eleanor, and myself finished up our snack in the club’s kitchens. I’d decided to gather everyone together to eat and discuss the club’s security. The mob outside seemed to be dwindling, no doubt due to Mr. Ryder’s silver-tongue, but that wasn’t to say such a scene couldn’t be repeated.
“I know some lads who can watch the streets outside,” Timothy said, putting his dish in the sink. “They can’t prevent a protest, but they might be able to stop any more bottles being thrown through windows and fires being started.”
Another expense, and one the club could ill-afford, not if membership dropped, but I could pay from my personal accounts. I had wanted the club to be self-sustaining, but if watchmen made my members and staff safer, it was a cost I would pay.
I nodded. “Have them come speak with me.”
Bobby cut another slice of cake for himself. “I know some lads who can disperse crowds if it’s called for, if you don’t mind a bit of the rough stuff, that is. If things go sour, they won’t peach on you to the magistrates, neither, and I can guarantee none of those protesters will dare come back after they’ve tussled with my boys.”
I blinked. I’d known Bobby had grown up in St. Giles, but he’d always seemed such a sweet boy. “Let’s keep that option as the last resort,” I finally said.
Bobby tapped his finger against his nose. “Too right.”
I turned to the cook and kitchen maid. “I know you like to keep the kitchen window open to the alley for fresh air, but until matters are resolved, I’m going to ask you to keep it shut and locked. That window above the stove isn’t large, but it is better to be warm than have your kitchens invaded by tomatoes and flame bottles.”
The cook didn’t look happy, but she agreed. “Yes, milady.”
I looked around. “Right then. I know the times are strange, but all will return to normal soon.” I forced more certainty into my voice than I felt. “We will open to our members again tomorrow, although the Tea Room will remain closed until it has been repainted and the window replaced.” Hopefully, the stench of smoke would have dispersed by then, as well. “Any other concerns?”
My workers shook their heads.
I clapped my hands together. “Right then. Thank you all for the extra work you have been putting in. It will be reflected in your pay. Bernard, you’re responsible for locking up tonight. Miss Lynton and I have to attend to some errands.”
Eleanor trotted after me as I left the kitchen and headed for the cloakroom. “We do?”
“Indeed.” I tugged on my burgundy-colored spencer, affixed my bonnet, sparing only a quick glance at the mirror by the door. “We still have several threads to pull at, and I’ve wasted too much time.”
And another person had been killed.
I waited impatiently for Eleanor to don her own bonnet. “My pelisse….”
“It is quite warm enough to go without.” I pointed at the rack of raiment that had been left behind by inattentive members. “That shawl there should be sufficient.”
With a shrug, she laid it over her shoulders and followed me.
My carriage waited at its usual spot halfway down the block. My driver put down a book when he caught sight of us and hopped down, opening the door. “Where to, milady?”
