A Dangerous Fortune(112)

She would do anything he asked in bed, but she believed that outside the bedroom a woman should not be a slave to her husband, and she was equally rigid about both rules. Consequently they were always fighting about domestic issues. Sometimes Micky could turn one situation into the other. In the middle of a row about servants or money he would say: “Lift up your dress and lie on the floor,” and the quarrel would end in a passionate embrace. But that no longer worked every time: sometimes she would recommence the argument as soon as he rolled off her.

Lately he and Edward had been spending more and more evenings in their old haunts. Tonight was Mask Night at Nellie’s brothel. This was one of April’s innovations: all the women would be wearing masks. April claimed that sexually frustrated high-society ladies came in and mingled with the regular girls on Mask Nights. Certainly some of the women were not regulars, but Micky suspected the strangers were in fact middle-class women in desperate financial straits, rather than bored aristocrats in search of degenerate thrills. Whatever the truth of the matter, Mask Night never failed to be interesting.

He combed his hair and filled his cigar case, then he went downstairs. To his surprise, Rachel was standing in the hall, barring the way to the door. Her arms were folded and she wore a determined expression. Micky braced himself for a fight.

“It’s eleven o’clock in the evening,” she said. “Where are you going?”

“To the devil,” he replied. “Get out of my way.” He picked up his hat and cane.

“Are you going to a brothel called Nellie’s?”

He was startled enough to be silenced for a moment.

“I see you are,” she said.

“Who have you been talking to?” he said.

She hesitated, then said: “Emily Pilaster. She told me that you and Edward go there regularly.”

“You shouldn’t listen to women’s gossip.”

Her face was white. She was scared. That was unusual. Perhaps this fight would be different.

“You must stop going there,” she said.

“I’ve told you, don’t try to give orders to your master.”

“It’s not an order. It’s an ultimatum.”

“Don’t be silly. Get out of my way.”

“Unless you promise not to go there anymore, I shall leave you. I’ll go away from this house tonight and never come back.”

She meant it, he saw. That was why she looked scared. She even had her outdoor shoes on, ready. “You’re not leaving,” he said. “I shall lock you in your room.”

“You’ll find that difficult. I’ve collected all the room keys and thrown them away. There isn’t a single room in this house that can be locked.”

That was clever of her. It seemed this was going to be one of their more interesting contests. He grinned at her and said: “Take off your knickers.”

“That won’t work tonight, Micky,” she said. “I used to think it meant you loved me. Now I’ve realized sex is just your way of controlling people. I doubt whether you even enjoy it.”

He reached out and grasped her breast. It was warm and heavy in his hand, despite the layers of clothing. He caressed it, watching her face, but her expression did not change. She was not going to give in to passion tonight. He squeezed hard, hurting her, then let go. “What’s got into you?” he said with genuine curiosity.

“Men catch infectious diseases at places such as Nellie’s.”

“The girls there are very clean—”

“Please, Micky—don’t pretend to be stupid.”

She was right. There was no such thing as a clean prostitute. In fact he had been very lucky: he had only caught one mild case of the pox during many years of visiting brothels. “All right,” he conceded. “I might catch an infectious disease.”

“And give it to me.”

He shrugged. “It’s one of the hazards of being a wife. I might give you the measles, too, if I catch it.”

“But syphilis can be hereditary.”

“What are you driving at?”

“I might give it to our children, if we have any. And that is what I am not willing to do. I will not bring a child into the world with such a dreadful disease.” She was breathing in short gasps, a sign of severe tension. She means it, he thought. She finished: “So I’m going to leave you, unless you agree to cease all contact with prostitutes.”

There was no point in further discussion. “We’ll see whether you can leave with a broken nose,” he said, and he raised his cane to strike her.

She was ready for him. She dodged the blow and ran to the door. To Micky’s surprise it was ajar—she must have opened it earlier, in anticipation of violence, he thought—and she slipped outside in a flash.

Micky went after her. Another surprise awaited him outside: there was a carriage at the curb. Rachel jumped into it. Micky was amazed at how meticulously she had planned everything. He was about to leap into the carriage after her when his way was blocked by a large figure in a top hat. It was her father, Mr. Bodwin, the lawyer.

“I take it you refuse to mend your ways,” he said.

“Are you abducting my wife?” Micky replied. He was angry at having been outmaneuvered.

“She’s leaving of her own free will.” Bodwin’s voice was a little shaky, but he stood his ground. “She will return to you whenever you agree to give up your vicious habits. Subject of course to a satisfactory medical examination.”