sum of a guinea—it would hire a room for a year if this house was not engaged in nefarious activities—they were allowed to leave.
Outside, he threw back his head and took some deep breaths, as if the very atmosphere in the house were tainted. It did stink of wine, tobacco, and other smells but she’d known worse. Pigsties, for instance, if they were not cleared out.
“Do you want to close this house?” she said. If he did that, maybe she could have it renovated. People of fashion lived around here. Cheek by jowl with less reputable houses, to be sure, but it could be achieved.
He glanced down at her. “Not immediately. Pretend we are lady of the night and her man for the next hour. We’ll draw less attention that way, and you may escape notice.”
He drew her to his side by curving his hand around her waist. She didn’t resist. She felt safer with him this close, anyway, and it worked as their disguise of whore and client. She rested her head on his shoulder. He must be six inches or even more taller than she was, so his shoulder was at a convenient level for her. Very convenient.
His chuckle vibrated her body pleasantly, rousing her senses.
“If the house remains open, I know where to find him. He has regular places he likes to visit. I was unaware of this one until tonight, although it does not try to hide itself. Those glasses are not easily concealed. Other subterfuges are more clandestine and easily denied. It speaks of overconfidence, or…something else.”
She glanced at him. He was frowning. Just then they walked into the brighter light of the Piazza and his features became better delineated.
She liked his face like this, without that society frivolity and lazy droop of his eyelids. Alert and strong, the lines carved with care by some celestial builder, this man appealed to her.
“Do nothing,” he said. “I’ll visit you tomorrow. Will your family be in?”
“I do not know.”
“I’ll send a message and ensure I can obtain an interview.”
Alarm streaked through her. She liked him, she was attracted to him, but that sounded far too much like he wanted to pay his addresses. She’d only met him twice! “What kind of interview?”
His glance at her face held amusement but also tenderness. “To discuss this situation. Not me and you—we’ll brush through this if you do not make a habit of running off to brothels—but the house and its contents. Your involvement in the affair.”
Affair. That word meant more than politics, threats to the Crown. She could see the knowledge in his eyes. He meant it.
He had kissed her like he meant it, after all.
“You mean that I own the property. My great aunt left it to me and she hadn’t visited London in years. I just wanted to see it.” She sighed. “I want somewhere of my own, a place I can close the door and know that nobody will come in. I love my family, of course I do, but just once—”
“If you keep sighing like that your bodice will give way,” he said. “While I would much appreciate another view of your lovely body, I don’t think this is quite the place.”
Aware she’d pushed her bodice down as far as she dared and consequently was not as securely laced in as usual, she drew her cloak closer around her. “You’ve seen that already.”
“I have. Only a taste. I want more, Claudia. You’re a respectable woman, so I’m going to have to wait.”
He gave her such a look of deep melancholy that she burst out laughing, her embarrassment forgotten. At the time, embarrassment had been the last thing on her mind, but now, brought back to a sense of reality, it could have suffused her. It should have, except he was right.
She wanted more, too.
Chapter 5
Aware of her family’s exaggerated need to protect her and the other women, Claudia refused to go out with her mother the next morning, pleading a stomachache. She’d used the same excuse the night before, when she’d arrived home on her own. Dominic had left her at
Outside, he threw back his head and took some deep breaths, as if the very atmosphere in the house were tainted. It did stink of wine, tobacco, and other smells but she’d known worse. Pigsties, for instance, if they were not cleared out.
“Do you want to close this house?” she said. If he did that, maybe she could have it renovated. People of fashion lived around here. Cheek by jowl with less reputable houses, to be sure, but it could be achieved.
He glanced down at her. “Not immediately. Pretend we are lady of the night and her man for the next hour. We’ll draw less attention that way, and you may escape notice.”
He drew her to his side by curving his hand around her waist. She didn’t resist. She felt safer with him this close, anyway, and it worked as their disguise of whore and client. She rested her head on his shoulder. He must be six inches or even more taller than she was, so his shoulder was at a convenient level for her. Very convenient.
His chuckle vibrated her body pleasantly, rousing her senses.
“If the house remains open, I know where to find him. He has regular places he likes to visit. I was unaware of this one until tonight, although it does not try to hide itself. Those glasses are not easily concealed. Other subterfuges are more clandestine and easily denied. It speaks of overconfidence, or…something else.”
She glanced at him. He was frowning. Just then they walked into the brighter light of the Piazza and his features became better delineated.
She liked his face like this, without that society frivolity and lazy droop of his eyelids. Alert and strong, the lines carved with care by some celestial builder, this man appealed to her.
“Do nothing,” he said. “I’ll visit you tomorrow. Will your family be in?”
“I do not know.”
“I’ll send a message and ensure I can obtain an interview.”
Alarm streaked through her. She liked him, she was attracted to him, but that sounded far too much like he wanted to pay his addresses. She’d only met him twice! “What kind of interview?”
His glance at her face held amusement but also tenderness. “To discuss this situation. Not me and you—we’ll brush through this if you do not make a habit of running off to brothels—but the house and its contents. Your involvement in the affair.”
Affair. That word meant more than politics, threats to the Crown. She could see the knowledge in his eyes. He meant it.
He had kissed her like he meant it, after all.
“You mean that I own the property. My great aunt left it to me and she hadn’t visited London in years. I just wanted to see it.” She sighed. “I want somewhere of my own, a place I can close the door and know that nobody will come in. I love my family, of course I do, but just once—”
“If you keep sighing like that your bodice will give way,” he said. “While I would much appreciate another view of your lovely body, I don’t think this is quite the place.”
Aware she’d pushed her bodice down as far as she dared and consequently was not as securely laced in as usual, she drew her cloak closer around her. “You’ve seen that already.”
“I have. Only a taste. I want more, Claudia. You’re a respectable woman, so I’m going to have to wait.”
He gave her such a look of deep melancholy that she burst out laughing, her embarrassment forgotten. At the time, embarrassment had been the last thing on her mind, but now, brought back to a sense of reality, it could have suffused her. It should have, except he was right.
She wanted more, too.
Chapter 5
Aware of her family’s exaggerated need to protect her and the other women, Claudia refused to go out with her mother the next morning, pleading a stomachache. She’d used the same excuse the night before, when she’d arrived home on her own. Dominic had left her at
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