Violet grabbed his sleeve and pulled him aside. He looked down at her hand on his arm, his mouth twisted with distaste, and she hastily released him. “Do you think you could be less conspicuous? We’re attracting attention, and that’s not a good thing in this part of the city.”
Instead of slouching or casting his eyes down, he straightened and looked about boldly. “Are we being followed?” he asked loudly.
“No. Shh!”
“Come out from where you’re hiding,” he yelled. “I’m more than happy to give you a taste of my knuckles.” And then the idiot raised his fist in the air and waved it about in challenge.
Violet grabbed his arm, pulled it down, and, using the momentum, tugged him into the doorway of a closed shop. From the strong smell of tallow, she guessed the shop owner made candles. “What is the matter with you? You are not in Mayfair any longer, and in case you haven’t noticed, your friends aren’t with us.”
“I can defend myself. Where is my walking stick?” He looked about as though just realizing he had left it behind.
Violet had two brothers, and she knew when a man was spoiling for a fight. Ordinarily, she didn’t care if one of the nobs went and got himself killed, but this one needed to survive until she was paid what he owed her for destroying her tavern. She needed those seven pounds, fifteen shillings or she was done for.She couldn’t exactly run a tavern without any functioning tables and chairs, not to mention mugs, glasses, or spirits.
“If you want to get yourself killed, go right ahead,” she said, poking him so he gave her his attention again. “But do it after you’ve paid me for the damage you caused last night.”
He looked at her, his expression turning serious. Thank God! The man was finally comprehending the danger surrounding them. He cocked his head. “You’re very pretty,” he said.
Violet closed her eyes in frustration. Did these so-called gentlemen think of nothing but drinking, fighting, and bed sport? She opened her eyes and saw he was still looking at her. She had better put him in his place now, or he’d think he could take liberties. “And you look like a drowned rat and smell like you fell in a vat of rum.”
“Ouch.” He put his hand to his heart as though wounded.
“If you think that hurts, wait until you feel my knee in your stones. Keep your hands to yourself.”
He reeled back as though slapped. Violet wondered if he’d ever been rejected by a woman before. Probably not, which meant it was long past time.
“Are you always so full of sunshine and light?”
“Are you always such an idiot?” she asked. “Try to stay alive until we reach my tavern.” And without another word, she marched past him and back onto the street. She walked quickly now, eager to be home and safely behind locked doors, but not so quickly that the marquess could not keep up. Violet was beginning to wonder if perhaps the man was more trouble than he was worth—except seven pounds, fifteen shillings was a lot of coin and worth a lot of trouble. So far, this man seemed to be seven pounds and then some worth of trouble.
She’d been surprised when she arrived at the marquess’s address to find the doors open and movers carrying rugs and draperies outside. Though she wondered at the sight of theline of men going in and out, one didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. She went inside. That was one less obstacle to overcome. But the moment she’d stepped into the house, her jaw had dropped. Never had she seen anything like the grandeur surrounding her. The entryway alone was easily as large as her tavern, and the sun streaming through a large window above the door made the entry light and airy. She’d looked up as the sunlight sparkled on the chandelier above her, and it seemed as though a thousand diamonds winked at her.
Stunned as she was, Violet was not so much a fool as to not realize something was amiss. She had seen enough neighbors tossed out of lodgings to know what eviction looked like, and the marquess was clearly being evicted. The thought gave her a moment’s pause about the possibility of collecting recompense for the damage to the Silver Unicorn, but then she pushed the thought aside. Eight pounds was nothing to a man of his stature. Why, the chandelier above her must cost twice that!
But, of course, nothing could be simple. She hadn’t been the only merchant there wanting to be paid, and the coward appeared to want to run away from his creditors. That was fine—as long as he couldn’t run away from her. At least not until he paid her, and she threw him out. He said he needed a day to put his affairs in order. Fine. She’d have her seven pounds, fifteen shillings tomorrow, then.
“Where the holy hell are you taking me?” he said, sounding tired and irritable. Good. Now he knew how she felt.
“You don’t remember my tavern from last night?” She glanced at him over her shoulder.
“Would you be offended if I said no?”
She gave him a long look.
He cleared his throat. “The White Unicorn, was it?”
“SilverUnicorn.” She blew out a breath.Seven pounds, fifteen shillings.“It’s just here, as I’m sure you recall.” Sheled him around another corner and into the street just outside the tavern. Broken glass and furnishings, some of which she recognized as belonging to her, littered the ground outside. The damage extended further along the street, where she caught sight of other merchants nailing boards over broken windows or attempting to repair smashed railings and doors hanging off hinges.
“Quick. Come inside,” she said. It wouldn’t do for one of her neighbors to recognize him and demand payment for their damages before she received hers. She pulled a key from the pocket of her coat, shoved it in the lock, and opened the door to the tavern.
But the marquess, instead of hurrying inside, paused and peered cautiously over her shoulder into the cool darkness within. “How do I know you don’t have assassins waiting inside?”
“The only people inside are my maid Peggy and my two brothers, Joshua and Georgie.”
“That’s what you say now…”
Violet rolled her eyes. “Listen, I don’t care if you live or die,my lord, just as long as you dieafteryou pay me my seven pounds, fifteen shillings.” She pushed the door wider and stepped aside. “Now go inside, or I really will leave you to the thieves and cutthroats just waiting for their chance to slit your throat and steal those fine clothes off your back.”
That did it. He stepped into the tavern, moving cautiously. Violet pushed in behind him, closed the door, locked it again, then slammed the heavy wooden bar down over it to keep everyone out.
