Lynn Vieh - His Lordship Possessed

“Afraid?” he murmured.

“Bored.” I wondered how I might get rid of him in front of six witnesses. Perhaps when he lit one of his infernal cigars I would accidentally tip an oil lamp in his lap.

At first glance Rina’s party room resembled a parlour, with settees and lamps and elegant drapes. Then I noticed how wide the settees were, and some baskets that contained unmarked bottles of golden liquid, lengths of satin ribbon, and, of all things—

“Peacock feathers?” One of the gents reeled over to a basket and plucked out a long plume. “Now, what can you do with one of these beauties, love?”

His strumpet, a leggy brunette who had thin lips beneath too much tint, whispered something in his ear, making him roar with laughter.

Dredmore steered me round the others to a settee by the crackling fire in the hearth. Rather than sit I leaned against one arm and held out my hands as if to warm them.

He hovered, not quite touching me but close enough to keep the others from hearing him. “You shouldn’t have run from me.”

“I didn’t run.” I turned my hands over and wriggled my fingers. “I rode.”

He grunted. “I suppose I should be grateful that you left Velvet at a decent stable.”

“Velvet.” Of course, because he was black.

“I didn’t name him.” He came to stand beside me. “You could have killed yourself, riding alone in the dark.”

I glanced up at him. “Disappointed?”

His mouth twisted. “I came to court today for you.”

“I saw,” I acknowledged. “Yet you never made it into the courtroom.”

“I was waiting by the prisoner’s gate,” he said. “When they brought you out, I was going to take you from them. Then I had to deal with that snuffmage.”

“For which I am grateful, Lucien.” I had to say that much.

He regarded me for a long moment. “No, you’re not.”

“You two bickering already?” The drunk thrust a tumbler of gin into Dredmore’s hand and then presented me with a much smaller measure in a finger glass. He lifted his own drink, sloshing a bit over the brim as he toasted me. “Here’s to all the gels with ginger curls, be they east or west, they shag you best.”

“To the compliments of discriminating, fine young gentlemen.” I pretended to take a sip and watched Dredmore do the same.

“Come on, you two.” The drunk gave me a playful push that almost knocked me over. “Have a sit and get acquainted.”

To avoid another shove, I went and sat on the end of the settee farthest away from Dredmore. Naturally he followed and boxed me in by seating himself directly beside me.

“That’s more like it.” The drunk patted my head with a clumsy hand before stumbling back over to the blonde.

I felt Dredmore’s arm snake along my shoulders as I watched the others cavorting. “Madam Eagle will not allow you to remove me from the premises.”

“Ging doesn’t seem to fancy you as much as me, mate,” the drunk called out, and slapped the blonde on the hip. “This one’s more than willing, if you want a swap.”

“Oh, I fancy him, sir.” Before Dredmore could accept the offer, I turned and linked my arms round his neck. “I just take a little while to warm up.”

I swung a leg over his, straddling him much as he had done to me last night, which allowed me to hide the hand I slipped between our bodies. I slid my fingers between his legs, taking secure hold of his testicles before I put my lips next to his ear.

“Tell him you’re pleased with me,” I warned, “or I’ll squeeze until your eyes pop out your ears.”

The grip I had on him demanded immediate obedience, but Dredmore only turned his head to brush his mouth across mine.

I couldn’t believe Dredmore was kissing me while I had my fist round his stones, and he took advantage of my shock by seizing my wrist and dragging my hand up so that I was gripping his shaft. When I jerked he held me fast and looked over my shoulder.

“Tonight I must hold on to my Prudence,” he told the drunk. He looked into my eyes. “Whatever it costs me.”

His play on words brought another round of laughter from the men, but I dug my nails into him.

“We should perhaps go to our room,” I suggested through my teeth, “so that you can begin to pay for your pleasures.”

“An excellent suggestion.” He released my wrist, clamped his hands on my waist, and stood with me still on him. The unexpected movement forced me to cling to him as he strode out of the room and into the hall, where he did not put me down but continued on to the Amber Room.

“Don’t you think you’re carrying this a little too far?” I asked as he entered and kicked the door shut behind us. “I mean, I’m not a native. Your saving my life doesn’t mean you now own me.”

“Walsh has men out searching for you.” He set me down and went to the window to check the street. “If I could find you, so can they. We have to go, now.”

“I am not—”

He came to me, seized my shoulders, and shook me hard. “For once in your life, you daft twit, listen to me. That snuffmage wasn’t the only one sent after you. And what Walsh’s men did to your flat is what they were told to do to you . When they learn that you’re here—and they will—they’ll come for you.”

I wrenched out of his grip and folded my arms. “Let them. Rina has Wrecker.”

“Walsh has twenty Wreckers out there tonight,” Dredmore said. “They’ll surround the place, put a few guards on the outside doors, and cut the kneecapper’s throat. Then they’ll look for you, Charmian, and they’ll take their time. Especially with the women.”

Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed against it. “I’ll call Rumsen Main and speak to Inspector Doyle. He’ll send his men over to protect the house.”

“His superiors won’t permit it,” he told me.

“I’ll tell him what you told me—”

“Walsh owns the police commission; he’ll already have warned them to stay out of his way.” Dredmore sighed. “Even if your friend Doyle found a few survivors tomorrow, the commissioner would be more inclined to give Walsh a medal for cleaning up a disgrace to the city.”

Almira came in carrying a tray with a bottle of champagne and a silver bowl piled high with strawberries. “We’ve trouble downstairs,” she said as she thumped down the tray. “Two blokes with a warrant, wanting you, Kit. They say they’re Yard but they look like fists for hire.”

“So you should have no problem telling them I’m not here,” I suggested.

“The warrant’s for a search of the place,” the cook told me, “and Rina’s had to let them in.” She glanced at Dredmore. “If you mean to fool them, milord, you two had best get busy.”

He nodded, and once the cook departed he took my arm and tugged me over to the bed.

I resisted. “There’s no need for that. We can play cards.”

He straightened my wig. “Cards, in a brothel. Yes, that should be quite convincing.”

“Oh, very well.” I drew back the coverlet and sheets, rumpling them in the process. “I’m not taking off my clothes, and neither are you.”

“Agreed.” Dredmore turned me round and pushed me onto my back, reaching to pull up my skirts. “New lingerie?”

I glanced down and seized his wrists. “Borrowed, not mine.” I heard a shriek from down the hall and cringed. “Take off your jacket.”

Before he did Dredmore retrieved the champagne and strawberries and brought them to the bed.

“Don’t bother with that,” I urged when he uncorked the bottle with a loud pop. “Just come down here and kiss me.”

“Men do not kiss harlots,” he said as he straddled me and yanked at my bodice, tearing it open. “Not on the mouth, anyway.”