characteristically high, bright glittering eyes and the high flush across his cheeks indicated he had spent a goodly portion of the time drinking as opposed to concentrating on his game.
“I thought I heard a woman’s voice.” He looked pointedly at James’s trousers. “I knew it, you dog. You’ve got a woman in here.” He glanced wildly about the room. “Where is she?”
James positioned himself so Marcus’s back would face the robe-draped chair. “Nonsense,” he smiled tightly. “There’s no woman here.” He glanced over Marcus’s shoulder and saw the top sleeve of the robe rise up, then flop down flat as if empty.
“You’re a liar, Locke.” Marcus sneered. “Just like one of those abysmal Indian snakes.” Using his arm, he imitated a snake’s sideways movement before he clapped James’s shoulder in a friendly salute, not acknowledging James’s resulting flinch. “Where are you hiding her? I heard her talking, I did.”
“I suspect you’ve heard quite a few voices this evening without the bodies to match.”
The robe made a few more innocuous movements, then stilled. Good, she was free from the robe. He had to admire her quick thinking, but where was she? His lips quirked. Best to get Marcus on his way and then track down Miss Havershaw. He turned to his friend. “Why don’t you—”
“What have we here?” Marcus stumbled over to the wine tray. “Two glasses?” He sipped from the full glass and raised one brow. “Fine French wine?”
“I tell you, again, I have no woman here. However, if you don’t believe one of your oldest friends, look about the room for yourself.” Even in his cups, Marcus wouldn’t abandon an argument without an opportunity to search.
Marcus leered, and tilted at an unnatural angle to look beneath the desk. He grabbed the top to help him regain his balance upon straightening. “A bit of skirt would do you good, Locke.” He tossed back the rest of the glass of wine, then laughed. “A bit of skirt would do us both good.” He raised his gaze to the back end of the room. “By George, is that what I think it is?”
He put the glass down, none too gently, and staggered over to the chair where the munisak lay. “You still have this thing? I would have thought after all that happened in that stinking hellhole, after all we went through in that rat-infested prison, you would have burned this rag and all the others.” His eyes widened. “Let’s do it now. You and me, for old time’s sake.” He stumbled toward the cold fireplace.
James put his hand on his friend’s shoulder to stop his progress and slowly pulled the robe from his grasp. “Why did you come here, Marcus?” And where the devil did Lusinda go?
“I heard you were back from Calcutta. I thought I’d come to see what my old pal Locke was up to.”
“Is it money?” James tossed the robe toward the chair and guided Marcus to the opposite end of the room. “Do you need to cover a debt?”
“The cards were not in my favor, tonight. Pembroke about cleaned me out.”
“Yes, I’ve heard he’s been on a bit of a streak of late.” James opened a drawer and removed a few notes, pleased to have discovered the means to send Marcus on his way.
LUSINDA WAITED IN THE DOORWAY. IT APPEARED TO BE the safest spot while the two men conversed. The newcomer, Marcus, was a handsome bear of a man with soft brown curly hair and thick lips that pulled in what she suspected was a permanent smile. He seemed a bit overbearing in nature, but she imagined many women might find that quality attractive. She preferred Locke’s quiet assertiveness to this Marcus’s physicality. Look how Locke had managed to steer the bear away from her robe. Nothing seemed to rile him.
She frowned. Even her attempts failed, though she had certainly tried. She had even insisted on bringing Shadow to the house on the premise that it would annoy Locke. If she annoyed him enough, he might recognize the folly of his scheme and let
“I thought I heard a woman’s voice.” He looked pointedly at James’s trousers. “I knew it, you dog. You’ve got a woman in here.” He glanced wildly about the room. “Where is she?”
James positioned himself so Marcus’s back would face the robe-draped chair. “Nonsense,” he smiled tightly. “There’s no woman here.” He glanced over Marcus’s shoulder and saw the top sleeve of the robe rise up, then flop down flat as if empty.
“You’re a liar, Locke.” Marcus sneered. “Just like one of those abysmal Indian snakes.” Using his arm, he imitated a snake’s sideways movement before he clapped James’s shoulder in a friendly salute, not acknowledging James’s resulting flinch. “Where are you hiding her? I heard her talking, I did.”
“I suspect you’ve heard quite a few voices this evening without the bodies to match.”
The robe made a few more innocuous movements, then stilled. Good, she was free from the robe. He had to admire her quick thinking, but where was she? His lips quirked. Best to get Marcus on his way and then track down Miss Havershaw. He turned to his friend. “Why don’t you—”
“What have we here?” Marcus stumbled over to the wine tray. “Two glasses?” He sipped from the full glass and raised one brow. “Fine French wine?”
“I tell you, again, I have no woman here. However, if you don’t believe one of your oldest friends, look about the room for yourself.” Even in his cups, Marcus wouldn’t abandon an argument without an opportunity to search.
Marcus leered, and tilted at an unnatural angle to look beneath the desk. He grabbed the top to help him regain his balance upon straightening. “A bit of skirt would do you good, Locke.” He tossed back the rest of the glass of wine, then laughed. “A bit of skirt would do us both good.” He raised his gaze to the back end of the room. “By George, is that what I think it is?”
He put the glass down, none too gently, and staggered over to the chair where the munisak lay. “You still have this thing? I would have thought after all that happened in that stinking hellhole, after all we went through in that rat-infested prison, you would have burned this rag and all the others.” His eyes widened. “Let’s do it now. You and me, for old time’s sake.” He stumbled toward the cold fireplace.
James put his hand on his friend’s shoulder to stop his progress and slowly pulled the robe from his grasp. “Why did you come here, Marcus?” And where the devil did Lusinda go?
“I heard you were back from Calcutta. I thought I’d come to see what my old pal Locke was up to.”
“Is it money?” James tossed the robe toward the chair and guided Marcus to the opposite end of the room. “Do you need to cover a debt?”
“The cards were not in my favor, tonight. Pembroke about cleaned me out.”
“Yes, I’ve heard he’s been on a bit of a streak of late.” James opened a drawer and removed a few notes, pleased to have discovered the means to send Marcus on his way.
LUSINDA WAITED IN THE DOORWAY. IT APPEARED TO BE the safest spot while the two men conversed. The newcomer, Marcus, was a handsome bear of a man with soft brown curly hair and thick lips that pulled in what she suspected was a permanent smile. He seemed a bit overbearing in nature, but she imagined many women might find that quality attractive. She preferred Locke’s quiet assertiveness to this Marcus’s physicality. Look how Locke had managed to steer the bear away from her robe. Nothing seemed to rile him.
She frowned. Even her attempts failed, though she had certainly tried. She had even insisted on bringing Shadow to the house on the premise that it would annoy Locke. If she annoyed him enough, he might recognize the folly of his scheme and let
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