to her mother, there was an apologetic note in her voice.
'Would you mind if I did not join you this evening?' she said. 'I will retire early so that I can leave at dawn tomorrow.'
'Where are you going, Penelope?'
'Back to London.'
Her mother stiffened. 'To see George Strype?'
'No,' said her daughter. 'Mr Christopher Redmayne.'
The request amused Henry Redmayne so much that he could not stop laughing. It was the last thing he expected to hear from his brother when the latter called on him in Bedford Street. Shaking with mirth, he almost dislodged his periwig.
'So!' he said. 'You have come to your senses at last. You want to acknowledge your manhood and enjoy the delights of the flesh.'
'No, Henry,' said Christopher. 'I merely wish to meet Mrs Mandrake and take a look inside her premises.'
His brother sniggered. 'Moll has the most commodious premises I have ever seen. Warm and welcoming to the few who can afford her. If you board her, dear brother, beware. Once you are inside, you will wish to stay there in perpetuity.'
'The lady has no appeal for me in that way.'
'Then you must choose one of her stable, Christopher, for they are fine fillies, each one of them. Damarosa is my favourite, an inventive wench, but you might prefer the gentler touch of Betty Hadlow. There is also a pretty Negress with a rump which could raise the Lazarus between the legs of a saint and two fresh-faced sisters called Poppy and Patience, who will share your bed together and take it in turns.' He gave a smirk. 'But you may not be ready for anything as demanding as that.'
'I am not ready for any of the things you imagine, Henry.'
He explained the purpose of his request. Henry was disappointed to hear that he would be there solely as an observer but agreed to help. He just hoped that the presence of his younger brother would not inhibit his own pleasure at the house. Christopher was given strict advice about what to wear and how to behave. Before he left, he tossed a name into Henry's ear. His brother's nose wrinkled with disgust.
'Jean-Paul Charentin!'
'Do you know the man?'
'Yes,' sneered Henry. 'A contemptible Frenchman. A sly, thin-faced, leering fellow with no breeding. Had not Sir Ambrose brought him to the house, I doubt that Molly would have admitted him. She maintains the highest standards, as you will see. Monsieur Charentin is some kind of merchant from Paris. Whatever he trades in, it is not grace and fashion.'
'How often have you met him there?'
'Once or twice. Three times at most.' Henry stared at him. 'What's your interest in the rogue?'
'His name has come to my attention.'
'Wait until Molly's paps come to your attention. Mountains of pure joy. You will have no interest in a scurvy foreigner when they are bobbing away before your eyes. I could watch them for hours.'
'Chacun a son gout, mon frere.'
'I'll wager that you are equally entranced by her.'
'We shall see,' said Christopher, heading for the door.
'Wait. You have not yet told me about your visit to Paris.'
'No, Henry. I have not and do not intend to.'
'Did you meet that dog, Charentin, while you were there?'
'Not in person,' said Christopher, 'but I am wondering if I encountered an acquaintance of his.'
Molly Mandrake was more than just a notorious whore. She was an excellent businesswoman who ran her establishment efficiently and profitably. Attention to detail was her guiding principle. Before any of her guests arrived that evening, she made a tour of the house to inspect every room and to issue instructions. None of the whores was allowed to meet any clients until Molly had scrutinised each woman and made slight adjustments to her hair or her attire. Cosmetics and perfume had to be used with great subtlety before she would approve.
When the first coach arrived, Molly Mandrake stood at the door to welcome the two gentlemen who sauntered in and to collect their fulsome compliments about her own appearance. She was a shapely woman of medium height with a vitality which shone out of her like sunlight. Her silk gown was emerald green in colour, its close-fitting boned bodice dipping to a deep point in front to suggest a slimmer waist than she actually possessed. The neckline was low cut in a rounded shape which encircled the
'Why, Mr Redmayne!' she said with a warm grin. 'How agreeable to see you once again, sir! And who have you brought along with you?'
'This is my brother, Molly.'
'Two Redmaynes in one night. We are honoured. Your name, sir?'
'Christopher,' he said with a polite smile. 'I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs Mandrake. Henry has told me much about you.'
'I wish that he had mentioned you before now,' she said, running a practised eye over him. 'You are a proper man, young sir. Do come in.'
She took Christopher's arm as he passed and gave it a meaningful squeeze. Dressed in his most fashionable apparel, he did his best to appear relaxed and sophisticated but there was an immediacy about Molly Mandrake's charms which was almost overwhelming. She took the two of them through into a large room with a round table at its centre. Set out on the table were decanters of wine and goblets made of Venetian glass. A selection of salted meats was carefully displayed on a series of oval dishes. A black manservant was in attendance, wearing dark blue livery with gold buttons. He bowed to the newcomers and handed them goblets of wine. Their hostess ushered them across to some upholstered chairs in a corner and chatted for a few minutes until the sound of the doorbell drew her away.
Christopher sipped his wine and looked around the room. A few other guests were present, seated against the far wall and vying for the attention of a tall, stately young woman with fair hair which brushed her alabaster shoulders. Henry identified her with an obscene comment which his brother chose to ignore. The room was elegant and well-appointed but what Christopher admired was the clever positioning of the candelabra. Subdued light created a feeling of intimacy. He watched the fair-haired woman opposite. Like trained actresses, both she and Molly Mandrake knew exactly where to stand in relation to the flames in order to show themselves off to best advantage.
The wine was rich and Henry's glass was soon empty. Without waiting for it to be refilled, he went off to intercept a buxom woman who had just sailed into the room wearing Egyptian costume. Christopher was not left alone for long. Having guided the newcomers to the table, Mrs Mandrake beckoned someone from the shadows then led her by the hand towards Christopher. He rose politely from his chair.
'I would like you to meet Sweet Ellen,' she said with a knowing smile. 'She is worth five guineas of any man's money.'
The doorbell rang again and she wafted out of the room. Sweet Ellen eased Christopher back into his seat and nestled beside him. Her manner was at once familiar and reserved. Christopher could see why she had been chosen for him. Sweet Ellen was younger and more slender than any of the women he had so far seen. There was nothing gross or threatening about her. Framed in auburn hair, her face had a kind of demure beauty. Christopher
