Page 40 of A Much Maligned Miss

“Tell us about the different areas,” Caroline said quickly. “You mentioned a saloon, is that over here?” she asked, pointing.

“Ah yes,” Ralph said gratefully. “You see these screens?” He walked toward a series of large arched screens beautifully decorated with colored glass. “They act as markers for the different sections. So over here we have separate booths for anyone who does not wish to stand around the bar area and desires a bit of privacy.”

They followed him to an area set apart with lots of separate wooden crafted booths. “They are so cunningly wrought,” Caroline commented admiringly. “Like compartments in a carriage, only much grander. Oh! The glass is etched with a likeness of The Citadel!” she exclaimed, whipping around. “You must have had an artist draw the exterior.”

Ralph nodded proudly. “Only the finest craftsmen have worked in here,” he announced, chest swelling. “Real artisans. As a matter of fact, the artist fellow is coming back tomorrow. I wanted him to paint us a large painting for the back wall. I thought a depiction of The Citadel as a woman would work best but neither of the models he brought along looked right to me. One was a well-fed brunette and the other a blowsy-looking blonde. For my part I have always pictured The Citadel as a stern sort of beauty. Like the titaness, Themis. I imagine her all in silver, wielding a direct chilly stare. Maybe holding a sword,” Ralph extemporized, wrinkling his nose.

“Doesn’t sound very inviting for the punters,” Gervaise put in scathingly. “And absolutely nothing like an artist’s model who are usually selected for their attractiveness, not their ability to repel a man at forty paces.”

“But citadels do repel men, don’t they? For are they not fortresses?” Caroline asked, coming once again to Ralph’s defense. “Repelling invaders is the very purpose for which they were built.”

“Exactly!” Ralph exclaimed, stabbing a finger into the air.

“Not this citadel,” Gervaise retorted sourly. “Besides, this place looks more like a seraglio than a fortress.”

Ralph looked so crestfallen that Caroline was forced to look away. It felt rather like watching a someone aim a kick at a puppy. “Well, I’ll take you through to the billiard room out the back,” the poor man said, sounding forlorn. “Maybe you’ll like that better.”

“Will the cats be alright if we leave them here?” she asked, eyeing the doorman with some apprehension.

“Hie, Jeb!” Ralph called out. “Keep an eye on the cats while I show my friends around, there’s a good fellow.”

Caroline thought Jeb looked rather contemptuous at the request, but he gave a short nod of his head, and she had to be contented with that. He would most likely ignore them, she thought, but at least he would not throw them out into the street.

They passed through another door of stained glass depicting an urn bursting forth with foliage and then through a passageway with intricate mosaic flooring and elaborate ceramic picture tiles lining the walls. Caroline would have liked to linger and appreciate them, but as the other two did not slow their pace she followed instead, vowing to take a closer look at some future opportunity.

Another decorative door opened into a large back room filled with six full-sized billiard tables. This room had a smaller bar at one end, which appeared to be made of pink marble, but the main feature of the room was its magnificent skylight of leaded glass which was decorated in an intricate pattern of intertwining vines.

Gervaise glanced at it without comment but Caroline could not hold back an admiring sigh. “Oh, it’s so pretty. I suppose this room will be solely the province of men,” she said regretfully. “Rather like most billiard rooms.”

“I don’t see why it should be.” Ralph shrugged. “Enjoy a game of billiards do you, Miss Pomfrey?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No one has ever taught me properly,” she admitted. “When we were younger, my brother and I used to knock about the balls on Squire Pebmarsh’s table but once Edgar reached an age to play with the other men he had no need for me.”

“Oh, it’s never too late to learn,” Ralph encouraged her. “I know my sister Phoebe does these days, for her husband taught her in the privacy of their own home. She can’t be the only woman in London who enjoys it, eh, Gervaise?”

“I’ll teach you,” he said, meeting her gaze directly. “If you want to learn.”

“You’ll teach me billiards?” she blurted in surprise.

Gervaise nodded. “Why not?”

She flushed with pleasure. “I should like that, my lord.”

“Gervaise,” he corrected her, then turned back to his friend. “Where next?”

The remaining rooms on the ground floor turned out to be storerooms and a scullery which were a good deal less interesting to look around though they looked well set out and fully stocked.

Ralph then led them through an unobtrusive door up a set of narrow stairs which confused Caroline, for at first she had thought it must be a servant’s stair, but no servant’s stair was so luxuriously carpeted as this one was.

At the top Ralph led them through a door which led into another room about half the size of the one downstairs. This room had a handsome fireplace and was set about with lots of tables, some large and some small, and many fancy chairs upholstered in smart green leather. The curtains at the windows were of sumptuous striped silk and tied up with gold tassels.

The walls were lined with paintings depicting classical-looking scenarios with lots of naked and half-clothed women. Perhaps this too was a feature of gentleman’s clubs, she reflected, glancing around at the fancy lamps set in the wall sconces.

“What is the function of this room?” Caroline asked. “Is it fine dining?”

“No,” Gervaise replied shortly. “This room is for a private club which will operate out of here.”

“Oh, I see.”