15. The coldest-blooded of scoundrels
I had never been to a gentleman’s club before, it was something completely beyond my reach. I had, however, heard of the Oriental Club from my father. It was somewhere I had always longed to visit. Sitting in the north-west corner of Hanover Square, facing Tenterden Street, the club had been formed in 1824 for gentlemen who’d served in the East or who’d managed Eastern governments from home soil. The Duke of Wellington had been the first president of the club, giving you some idea of its distinguished reputation. Now the majority of members were chaps who’d amassed a great fortune in cotton or tea in India and had returned to Britain. They liked nothing more than spending their disposable wealth on claret and talking about India and Indian affairs.
