The man with the shirt problem snatched his coat from his friend, struggled into it and straightened up, face to face with James. They both took a step back.
‘Miles?’ James seemed transfixed. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
The other, younger man, blushed scarlet. ‘I… er… Oh my God.’
There was shouting in the street now, the sound of heavy, running, boots. James grabbed the man’s arm, pushed him into his seat at the table. ‘This is Mr Andrews, a silk merchant from the City. You’ve been playing for an hour.’
The other man had fled leaving James and me standing there. He pushed me towards the front door. ‘They have no cause to stop you.’
‘No. This way.’ I pulled on his arm, dragged him towards the other staircase, the one with the swans facing. He came unresisting, almost as though he had taken a blow to the head. ‘James.’
A fist thudded on the outer door. ‘Open in the name of the Law!’
It seemed to rouse him and we stumbled up the stairs until we reached the half-landing. ‘Kiss me.’
‘What?’
‘James, pull yourself together. Pretend we’re going upstairs.’ I pulled off my bonnet, opened the buttons on my pelisse, took his right hand and clamped it over my breast, dragged up the front of my gown as far as my knees and trapped it between our bodies then leaned back against the wall. ‘I know it isn’t your thing, but try and look as though you can’t wait to get me into bed.’
That penetrated enough to provoke a twisted smile. ‘Luc is going to kill me.’
‘That’s the least of your problems,’ I snapped. ‘Close your eyes, think of the gallows and kiss me.’
By the time the booted feet had thundered into the lower room amidst shouts of outrage, Mrs Godwin’s shrill protests that she ran a respectable house and the sound of overturning tables, we had achieved what I hoped was a convincing state of thoroughly heterosexual disarray. I had James’s coat half off, he had one hand on my exposed thigh and was kissing me as though his life depended on it. Which it does, I reflected grimly as someone wrenched him away from me. His hand was still on my bodice and it ripped, leaving most of my left breast, pressed up by the corset, on display.
James struggled in the grip of two burly constables and I ignored my neckline, gave a shriek of outrage and kicked the nearest one on the shin.
‘Let him go! We haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘Leave them, you dolts.’ The voice of authority belonged to a magistrate, I assumed. ‘That’s not the game we’re after, search upstairs for the mollies.’ He took off his hat and gave me a sort of half-bow, trying not to stare too blatantly at my bosom. ‘My apologies, ma’am.’
‘So I should hope.’ I swiped at my skirts, tugged my bodice into place to cover most of the bare flesh and jammed my bonnet on my head, ribbons trailing. At least the veil was still attached. Through a haze of gauze net I saw Elliott Reece shouldering his way into the house.
He stared round the room, then saw us as James shook off the constables and marched down to put an arm around my shoulders. ‘That’s the man.’ Reece pointed. ‘Arrest him for unnatural acts!’
There was a guffaw from the constables and the magistrate stared at him. ‘Unnatural acts? If what he was up to was an unnatural act then I’d best arrest all my men, myself and you too.’ He lowered his voice, but I still overheard, ‘…bodice undone, tits half out, skirts up to her…’
‘Nothing amiss upstairs on this side, Sir Geoffrey.’ A pair of constables came down the other stairs. ‘Half a dozen very upset gentlemen with their ladies, if you know what I mean,’ the older one said. Three officers went up the stairs behind me to be greeted by some very feminine screams and shouts.
‘What’s through there?’ the magistrate demanded, pointing to the double doors.
‘The refreshment room,’ Mrs Godwin threw the doors open to reveal a buffet table and a crowd of men tucking into the food and drink on display. Some were somewhat dishevelled, but nothing that could not be explained by the fact they were clutching wine bottles and slumped on chairs, or, in one case, on the floor. A number of very pretty girls, sketchily attired, were draped around several of them enthusiastically adding to the disarray of their clothing.
‘Mr Reece, I can see no evidence of illegal or unnatural activities in this place.’
The magistrate turned from the fuming Home Office man to the imposing figure of a gentleman who was looming beside him, threatening law suits and personal ruin. ‘What is it coming to that an Englishman cannot take his pleasures in decent privacy? Eh? What? Damn near did myself an injury when those louts burst in on me. You’ll be hearing from my lawyers, Sir Geoffrey. The Lord Chancellor will hear of this…’
I looked across the room and saw James’s friend calmly setting up the chess board again. The young man, Miles, was helping, his back squarely turned away. ‘Your friends are all right,’ I whispered and realised that he was sheet white, his hand shaking as he held my arm. Something was very wrong – James was no coward, and his nerves were tough. I looked again at the slender back of the young man across the room. Seeing him had rattled James badly.
But there was nothing to be done. ‘Can we go?’
‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ He turned to the magistrate, his voice steady now. ‘I assume we may leave without further risk of unprovoked assault?’
‘Yes, yes of course, sir. My apologies, but we were acting on information received…’
James did not wait for him to finish. I found myself outside in the cool night air, our shadows flickering wildly as the breeze stirred the flames of the torches all around. A very interested crowd had gathered, I realised as it parted to let us out.
Then Luc stalked into the middle of the space, and hit James solidly in the jaw. He went down like a felled tree and lay there, eyes closed, sprawled on the filthy cobbles.