The Glass House by Ashley Gardner

rather seedy hell.
But then, Peaches had craved excitement. Perhaps she'd not been
satisfied with an ordinary nest.
    "The Glass House is a novelty," Grenville
said, dropping the curtain. "It will wane, as all novelties do. For
now, it is a place to see and be seen. Because I have come tonight,
it will experience a new surge of popularity."
    He spoke in a matter-of-fact voice, without a
trace of pomposity. But he was correct. Any place Grenville visited
instantly became the height of fashion.
    Grenville lifted the drape of the next window
to find the blank back of another drape behind it. He released it
at once. When I looked a question, he said, "When a room has been
taken by a patron, the curtains inside may be closed, or left open,
as the buyer dictates. Some like to be watched."
    I frowned my distaste. We moved down the
walls and looked into other rooms.
    Grenville hadn't exaggerated. Every vice was
available. Some of the things I saw fueled my growing rage. I would
be certain to mention this house to a reformer I knew; that is, if
I did not begin breaking the windows myself.
    "Have you found something to your liking,
gentlemen?"
    A small, plump man with a sharp nose and
round brown eyes looked up at us, a salesman's smile on his face.
His nose bore a scar from a long-gone boil, but his suit was fine
and well tailored.
    Grenville regarded him with a look I’d come
to recognize as true disdain. Grenville sometimes feigned the look
for the benefit of his audience, but he genuinely disliked this
man, whoever he was.
    The man's dark eyes glittered with a cold
light even as he fawned at us. "My name is Kensington. Emile
Kensington." He held out a hand.
    His palm was warm and dry, though his
handshake was a bit limp. "Room number five is quite intriguing,"
he said.
    I expected Grenville to say something, to go
along with our pretense. Instead, Grenville stared at the man with
cold annoyance. He was angry, as angry as I was, but I needed to
keep to my purpose.
    "I am interested in a woman called Peaches,"
I said.
    The man jumped. I swore I saw his feet leave
the ground. He pondered his answer then fixed on a simple truth.
"She is not here."
    "I know that," I said. "She died two days
ago."
    Kensington's mouth dropped open. For a
moment, pure astonishment crossed his face, then his glittering
stare returned. "Died?"
    "Found in the river," I said. "She came here
often, I am told. Was she here on Monday?"
    Kensington's eyes narrowed as he looked me
over again. "Who are you, a Runner?"
    "An acquaintance of Lord Barbury. He is, as
you can imagine, deeply distressed."
    I watched the thoughts dance behind his eyes.
A woman who came here regularly, dead. Her lover, a powerful man.
Trouble for The Glass House?
    "I am sad to hear of his loss," Kensington
said.
    "Indeed," I said, unable to keep the chill
from my voice. "Had she come here Monday?"
    "I don't think so. I don't remember."
    "But she did used to come here?" Grenville
asked. "I believe you provided her with a private room."
    Kensington looked back and forth between us
and wet his lips. "There was no harm in it. She wanted somewhere to
meet Lord Barbury, safe from her husband."
    "And they paid you well for it, I'd wager," I
said.
    Kensington looked offended. "Not at all.
Amelia--Peaches--and I are old acquaintances. I knew her when she
was a girl, just come to London to make her fortune. She wanted to
bring Lord Barbury here, and I was willing to oblige. They enjoyed
it."
    I wondered about that very much. If the house
had been Peaches' choice, because she knew this Kensington, why on
earth had Barbury gone along with it?
    Kensington's gaze shifted again as though
he'd argued with himself and at last reached a conclusion. "Ah, I
remember now, gentleman. She did come here Monday. In the
afternoon."
    His memory was very convenient, I thought.
"Are you certain?"
    "Yes. I had forgotten, what with one thing
and another. She must have been at the laughing gas again, because
she was in high