Page 18 of The Marquess of Secrets

Harrison pulled his chair around to face the earl. “Thank you, my lord. It is that very medical reform about which I wish to speak. I promise not to take up much of your time.”

“Then be swift and sure in your converse, Lord Tennington.” The earl leaned forward on his cane, giving Harrison his full attention.

“I am about to embark on a mission to set up a charity medical clinic. As you know, the truly destitute are turned away from the infirmaries. I wish to have a place of safety, the last resort for those in need. The nuns of St. Dunstan’s Church in Stepney, trained nurses all, will serve in this clinic along with myself and a colleague. At least until the place is running properly.”

The earl arched an eyebrow. “You, a marquess?”

“I’m a trained physician, my lord. Unfortunately, I am not able to practice except in the most clandestine of ways.”

A slow smile crept across the earl’s face. “Still waters run deep, Tennington. Color me impressed. Is your father aware of your charity work?”

Harrison shook his head. “No, but I will inform him next I am at the manor end of this month. Would you be interested in such a proposal?”

“I am. I came to London for the session but will return to Essex in two weeks. My lungs cannot tolerate this foul London air. Seek me out the day after next at Westminster. Three in the afternoon on the terrace. I believe we will have a good deal to discuss. I will also ask the Earl of Carnstone to attend.”

Harrison knew him slightly. Julian Wollstonecraft, the Earl of Carnstone, was also in his eighties but in better health than Shaftesbury. Carnstone was also a resilient, progressive voice in the House of Lords. The two men worked side-by-side for decades on various reforms and bills.

Harrison stood, then held out his hand, and the earl took it. “I appreciate it, my lord. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He snorted. “At this ball? Not very likely. I only came to please my wife and granddaughter.”

Smiling, he bowed, then headed toward Sam with an extra spring in his step.

Tonight was not a complete loss.

* * *

After dropping Sam at his flat, Harrison headed to Pratt’s at Park Place. He was a member and decided a game of billiards and perhaps a drink or two would help him unwind.

Before saying goodnight to Sam, he relayed his conversation with the earl, and they both agreed they were off to a solid start regarding their plans. With Shaftsbury in their corner and possibly Carnstone, they could line up several more peers to support their venture. Bringing his father and brothers on board would only strengthen the cause.

Now past two in the morning, and feeling more than slightly fuzzy-headed from the brandy at Pratt’s, he instructed the carriage driver to take him to Stepney. Since he was wide awake, Harrison might as well check in at terminus and see if he was needed. At this time of night, one of the nuns would be there along with the trusted volunteers who kept the underground clinic safe.

The only sound he could hear was the clop-clop of the horses’ hooves against the cobbles, though judging by the odor, he must be in the East End. Though not as rank as in previous decades, the smell of the sewer still permeated the air.

Thanks to his conversation with Shaftesbury, Harrison felt he was accomplishing something worthwhile. Yes, the nights he toiled away at the terminus were also rewarding, but the never-ending stream of poor people could be disheartening.

Damn it, the sickeningly sweet punch he consumed at the ball, along with the three brandies at the club, took their toll. Harrison banged on the roof with his walking stick, and the vehicle came to an abrupt halt.

The window slid open. “Yes, my lord?”

“Stop at the next alley you see; I have a call of nature.”

“There is one to your right, my lord.”

Harrison pushed aside the curtain. From the flickering illumination of the gaslight, he spotted the alley the driver spoke of.

“I will be but a moment. I can manage the steps.”

He unfolded the metal steps and descended from the carriage. Sprinting across the cobbles, he entered the alley and, upon finding it empty, unbuttoned the fall of his trousers and pulled out his prick. The steady stream was indeed a relief.

Something between a groan and a whimper caught his attention. Finishing, he righted his trousers and pulled his cloak across his body.

“Is anyone there?”

Silence.

He walked forward, though it was dark, the lamppost cast enough light that he was able to spot crates piled high in the corner.