Page 101 of Rakes & Reticules
A RETICULE FOR SCANDAL
BY CECILIA RENE
CHAPTERONE
London, October 1815
Ambrose Fitzwilliam, Fitzto his friends, Earl of Killingworth, sat in the lavish Crimson Drawing Room at Carlton House, taking in the elaborately decorated space. The residence of the Prince Regent himself was hung with heavy curtains, stitched with gold trim. One large chandelier illuminated the middle of the room with two smaller chandeliers on either side of it. They all glittered with crystals and gold. The ornate ceiling had gold Egyptian drawings surrounding the large rectangular space. Paintings decorated the crimson walls in gold frames. There was so much red and gold Fitz felt he would be sick.
It would be a tragedy to die in such a room.
The Crimson Drawing Room was the most lavish space he’d ever been in. Which would’ve been the most surprising thing to Fitz if amongst all that wealth, there wasn’t a monkey.
A monkey dressed in a tailcoat, standing on a small, but expensive table, which was currently juggling four small balls while surrounded by whores and drunkards. Leopold, the monkey, threw two of the balls in the air, catching them with ease and precision. Obnoxious shouts and cheers rang out from the center of the room as the monkey’s handler, Samir, held the long leash attached tightly to Leopold’s neck.
“You there!” The Prince Regent, or Prinny as he was known to most, called out to one of the passing servants. He waved a chubby hand in the air absurdly, snapping his fingers before pointing down to his drink. “I need another before this one is empty.”
Fitz closed his eyes for a moment trying to ignore the overweight, ridiculous prince sitting on the dark red sofa in front of him. For the tenth or hundredth time, he questioned why he was in the man’s company at all.
A sharp kick to his boot jolted his eyes open. Yes, it had been the idea of his oldest and closest friend, the Duke of Stonelake, for Fitz to befriend his cousin the prince. Stonelake glared at Fitz pointedly, his head tilting toward Prinny.
Stonelake, with his gray eyes, and boyish brown curls, gave his head a small shake, signaling to Fitz that he needed to school his own features.
Yes, he should remember himself; there was a reason Stonelake had insisted that they begin acquainting themselves with the often-extravagant prince. Fitz needed the prince’s assistance as he had inherited the Killingworth title and all of its debts less than a year earlier. He simply did not have the funds to restore the earldom and provide for his mother and sister.
A loud cheer erupted in the room, drawing Fitz’s attention to the monkey, which was now perched on Samir’s shoulder, juggling.
“There’s a sight!” Stonelake called out, laughing as Samir transferred Leopold from his shoulder to the naked shoulder of a whore.
Prinny stood, clapping wildly, more like a child than the Regent of an entire empire. “Excellent, Samir!” he shouted before taking his seat just as a servant delivered a full glass of champagne.
Leaning forward Stonelake cleared his throat several times before speaking to the prince. “You mentioned you had something that Fitz could perhaps assist you with,” Stonelake said gently.
Fitz sat up, ignoring the loud shouts surrounding him, focusing all his attention on the conversation between the prince and Stonelake.
“Indeed.” Prinny picked up his new glass of champagne taking a large gulp and completely ignoring the half-empty one in front of him. “Fitz, I know you inherited the Killingworth earldom, which is in debt to the crown.” He paused to take another drink. “My dear cousin here has been lobbying on your behalf for months.”
“Of course, I have. Fitz here has been my friend since our days at Shrewsbury. Neither one of our fathers could afford Eton.” Stonelake sat back in his gold trimmed chair, eyeing his cousin.
Prinny nodded, his gaze going from Fitz to Stonelake. “Yes, that is the main reason I am trusting Fitz with this delicate matter.”
“How delicate?” Fitz asked wondering what in God’s teeth was he agreeing to.
Months ago, he had complained to Stonelake about the cursed earldom he inherited from his cousin John, the former Earl of Killingworth. A kind, gentle fellow, who became reckless in his grief and found himself on the other end of a pistol soon after the death of his wife and son in childbirth.
The three sudden deaths were precisely the reason why everyone in theton,including Fitz himself, thought the earldom cursed. It was called Killingworth after all. Stonelake was the one to propose that Fitz become close with the regent, who had repeatedly invited Stonelake to his countless gatherings.
Prinny was known for his outlandish behavior and many mistresses. He was also greatly in debt due to his lavish lifestyle. A lifestyle Fitz had never seen before, growing up the only son to a second son.
His father was a vicar who had lived moderately and raised his children to do the same. Fitz couldn’t quite understand how Prinny could spend so carelessly, especially considering how the poor in England lived.
“Extremely delicate, so delicate I’m afraid that it cannot be said in such company.” Standing Prinny loudly clapped several times, gathering the attention of his guests, who now looked expectantly at him. “Everyone out! I must have a word with Fitz.”
No one called him Killingworth. He hadn’t easily accepted the cursed title. In fact, every time he made a new acquaintance, he insisted they should address him as Fitz. It was highly improper, and most members of society simply stared at him aghast.
His father had nicknamed him Fitz when he was a boy. Ambrose had always seemed too big of a name for him. It was his grandfather’s name, and it often felt like it didn’t belong to him. But he was Fitz because his father made it so, and that simple fact gave him joy.
The room cleared until there was no one left except the three of them and Prinny’s faithful servants. Fitz would’ve been shocked by such obedience if he hadn’t seen the prince clear a room before. People listened to his every command despite speaking ill of him behind his back.
