Beginnings - By David Weber Page 0,177

Lucy. Noah did like the money they earned, but he liked to think the club was paying them to waitress and they were just doing the other because they wanted to instead of because it was the only reason the club hired women at all.” She focused on the Burdette ladies. “They worked on Blackbird.”

“Would you like to see your cousin charged with whore-mongering? I do believe that is outlawed in every steading of Grayson.” Mayhew folded his hands lightly and glanced from Claire to the dowager and back.

Claire blanched. She wasn't sure what the sentence for that offense was, but it would tear the family apart to see Noah in a prison somewhere. Or executed. Defaming the dignity of a woman through forced prostitution could be a capital offense.

“Nonsense.” The dowager lady steadholder held up a hand. “Those two young women have passed on. It isn't right to sully the names of the dead.” She pinched her lips and gave lie to the fine words. “Any way, the last formal documents we have in their names call them artisans. It would be near impossible now to find evidence that they did or did not engage in the work willingly or of their own accord without their head-of-household's approval. The authorization to work outside the home, which I had checked, quite clearly states that they have positions as wait staff at an entirely different venue, The Gym, I believe.”

The second wife's crimson blush revealed that she somehow knew different. Claire wondered who had told her.

Claire shook her head, “It's the same venue, Madam Steadholder. It's much like bars called The Library situated outside colleges. The Blackbird Gymnasium. The customers call it Birdies among themselves and ‘The Gym' to their wives, I understand.

“Could you see clear to letting my Aunt Jezzy Bedlam know about Lucy and Mary passing? I haven't been able to afford a call to let her and the rest of the family know. They'll know they're missing already, but I took part in the rescue. They might be thinking that there's still a chance. I saw. There's no way. It was really awful. There aren't going to be any more names added to the survivor list—especially not from Birdies' part of the yards.”

Mayhew remained entirely blank-faced as Claire glanced at him. The existence of gentlemen's clubs was likely not something one normally discussed in mixed company. Mayhew seemed to be dealing with it by ignoring that part of the discussion, and the Burdette ladies were in turn ignoring his presence for that awkward piece.

Claire gripped her skirts again. “I had hoped to avoid all this awkwardness Madam Burdette. Please convey my continued gratitude to your son for the appointment to the Service. I remain honored to have been a daughter of Burdette Steading, but I shall have to apply for a transfer of citizenship to another steading now.”

Claire froze her neck muscles with an iron will to keep from checking Mayhew for a reaction. If he was acting appalled at the suggestion, they would never believe that another steadholder might take her in. But if he just kept that blank face a few moments longer . . .

The dowager raised her eyebrows and glared past Claire's shoulder at Mayhew. With an abrupt command she sent the youngest daughter-in-law off to fetch the steadholder. Was it a call for reinforcements to crush an uppity steader or a decision to save a weakening city's dome by releasing just a little pressure?

Claire repeated her bid for freedom. “Madam, I have an obligation of service. I just ask that—”

The Burdette ladies vanished. Lord Nathan Fitzclarence, with the Seal of Burdette Steading carved in his study wall behind him, leaned forward and stared intently. “Yes, yes. You've had your questions. Now I have mine.”

Had he been watching the conversation the whole time, waiting to see what a Mayhew with one of his steaders was doing calling a private line? Claire checked Mayhew's response. It seemed yes.

Entirely unflappable, Master Mayhew said, “A pleasant morning to you, Nathan. Glad you could join us.”

Claire ducked her head in a seated bow. “Tester's blessings, Steadholder.”

Lord Burdette made a flicking motion with his right hand as though to brush away all the usual courtesies. “This is quite a mess you've brought me, Michael.”

The arch to Mayhew's eyebrows implied he didn't think that he'd brought the mess at all.

Claire felt the blood rise up in her ears in a familiar feeling of shame mixed with frustration that usually went

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