He'd meant to keep his tone polite and professional, but somehow everything came out wrong. "What in the hell are you doing here putting yourself in harm's way, and why in the name of all the rulers of Olympus did you leave my protection for..." He sputtered a bit before being able to go on. "Forthis?"
He spread his arms wide encompassing the entire row of elegant townhouses wherein Derek Welkirk, Earl of Framlingwood's, mistresses were opulently ensconced. "This, this...gilded cage? You deserve better than being nothing more than an earl's temporary plaything."
Adrienne placed her hands on her hips and returned his glare. "By 'better,' I assume you mean I should have been happy to remain a sailor's land widow and sleep alone in a cold house instead of enjoying the warmth and silk sheets of an earl's bed?"
Obadiah clenched his meaty fists so hard, his fingernails drew a bit of blood. He bowed his head for a few seconds to get his emotions under control. When he finally faced her again, the recriminations he'd stored up to rain down on the ungrateful minx suddenly left him. Instead, he pulled her close for a long, furious kiss.
When he finally released her, he was afraid he might drown in the dark, mysterious depths of Adrienne's eyes. Instead of falling back into his arms and begging his forgiveness as he'd assumed she would, she drew back and slapped him so hard with the back of her hand, he stumbled backward, trying to regain his balance...and his pride.
"Don't ever touch me again without my permission, sirrah," she spat out at him before wheeling on her heel and retrieving the under-butler, Young Rutherford, who sat on the stoop in front of her townhouse. He was nursing a bleeding split lip and looking dazed, as though he'd never been that thoroughly thrashed in a fight before.
She gave Obadiah one last withering look and added, "You'd better hope none of the servants report your inappropriate behavior back to the earl. He prides himself on keeping his 'Pearls' respectably subdued and out of the public eye."
He shrugged his massive shoulders and moved to retrieve her similarly beaten footman who was still nursing his wounds back at the corner of Bond Street where the attack had begun. Wouldn't do for the earl to find out his mistress and servants' disgraceful thumpings had been aired for all thetonto see at the fashionable shopping hour of the day.
2 September,1826
Number One Grosvenor Street
Adrienne sank back into a comfortable armchair in her cozy parlor and sipped on a cool drink Mrs. Collins had sent up from the massive kitchens beneath the Pearls' set of five townhouses. She'd applied a cloth bag to her bruised cheek and forehead filled with ice personally fetched from Gunter's by OldRutherford, or Toplofty, the head butler for all the townhouses. She gradually recovered from her afternoon ordeal and listened to the worried speculations of her fellow Pearls.
When Young Rutherford's fill-in, Tall Rutherford, had answered the door, the other four Pearls had piled into her cozy parlor and demanded to hear all the details of the attack that afternoon before being rescued by their apparent new guard, Obadiah.
"I didn't know we had a guard," Margot said. "Who is that gorgeous, muscular man?"
Even though the cloth bag mostly covered her eyes, she could see through a sliver of light at the bottom. Adrienne interrupted in a sharp tone. "He's a person from my unwise past who is Captain Goodrum's right-hand man."
"Ooooh," Sophie demanded. "Does he know? About us?" She swept a look around the room encompassing all of them.
"No, not before now," Adrienne intoned, "but I will threaten him within an inch of his worthless life if he breathes a word to the earl of our knowing each other and getting together."
"How are you so sure he won't reveal our secrets?" Saida plopped an extra spoonful of sugar along with a smattering of soothing herbs into a steaming cup of tea and exchanged it for the cool glass of wine Adrienne had now emptied.
"Right now he'd do anything to get back into my good graces. He knows better than to divulge anything about what he's seen here to the earl. I'll make my terms clear when he comes back to check on me after he's done lurking along the street outside our doors.
Lily, ever the actress, made a moue with her lush, pouty lips. "Poor Derek still thinks we don't know about each other." She swept the room with a glance taking in all of her fellow mistresses. "I don't know what I'd do without all of you, and Mrs. Collins. We keep each other sane. Which reminds me...whichbook will we be reading this month to discuss at our salon with the other ladies?"
Margot spoke up. "How are we going to account for refreshments this month? If we each order several bottles of wine through Mrs. Collins, was well as cakes, he may not be so suspicious.
Lily gave them all a sly look. I'm fairly certain when our housekeeper explains all the household expenses to him each month, he's not paying much attention to the numbers."
An un-mistress-like snort sounded from the round sofa twined around a pillar in the center of the room. Sophie added her observation. "Have any of you seen how he looks at her?"
"You mean like a stallion who sees greener grass on the other side of the fence surrounding a certain shapely mare?" Margot clapped her hands and laughed. The others joined in.
"He has no idea what corner he's backed himself into." Saida leaned over to get another pour of tea from Lily who was serving that day.
Just then Mrs. Collins interrupted their conjecturing and gossip by showing up herself to serve them a tray of jewel-like small cakes with smooth, velvety frosting and tiny sandwiches bulging with assorted jams, cheeses and bits of ham in a cold collation.
3
4 SEPTEMBER, 1826
OFFICE OF BARRISTER STEPHEN FORSYTHE
Lincoln's Inn Field
Derek held his head in his hands and poured out his heart. At the end of his bizarre tale, he lifted his eyes to see the sympathy surely lurking in that of his old school chums.
