Nick sat behind his desk at the club and tapped the desktop with a pencil and studied the two men sitting in the chairs in front of him. “I want twenty-four-hour protection for my house.” Jax and Monkey had been friends with Nick since they mud-larked together. Nick hired them on a regular basis to keep him attached to his roots and for occasions like this when he needed something done that could use their special skills and lack of concern about rules.
“A very special lady is staying at my house whose life I believe is in danger. She’s already been injured once, and I have no intention of letting it happen again. You are to keep her in your sights at all times. I have absolute faith in my servants, but I still want her food checked before it goes into her mouth. Any letters or packages directed to her will come to me first.”
“Hey guvnor, if this lady is like most, she ain’t gonna like having her mail and stuff going to you first.”
Nick waved his hand. “First of all, no one knows where she is, so anything that comes to her would be suspicious. Second, even if she objects, I override her.”
The two men shared an amused glance. Nick didn’t care. Let them think he was besotted with Pamela. He most likely was, anyway.
It felt good telling the doctor and nurse he was her fiancé. It seemed right, like it fit. Most likely once Pamela recovers, she’d throw something very large and very heavy at his head for being so presumptuous, but with her under his roof, he hoped to make that false statement a true one before she left.
“When do you want us to start?”
“A half hour ago.”
Both men stood and with a quick salute left the room. Now that Pamela was settled and he had protection on the way to his house, he allowed himself to consider what happened to her.
He played with the pencil in his hand as his thoughts consumed him. While they were preparing Pamela in hospital to be moved, he’d consulted with the doctor on her injuries. His gut twisted when the doctor said she could very easily have been killed by the carriage that struck her.
Although the doctor would not say, Nick got the impression that he believed it was no accident. From the few witnesses who stayed with Pamela until help could arrive the doctor had learned that the carriage had purposely jumped the pavement, heading directly at her. Were it not for one of the witnesses pushing Pamela away, it would have hit her head-on.
Nick rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Pamela had gotten herself into a mess and he would call in all his debts and contacts to take care of her.
He rose and pulled his jacket back on and blew out the lamps. The club was still going strong, but he had no interest in how much money he was pulling in. All his thoughts, worries and concerns were focused on one woman.
The woman he planned to make his.
The house was well lit when he arrived by carriage to his front door. Jax nodded to Nick from his place in the entrance hall when Nick opened the door. He removed his hat, scarf and coat and handed them to the butler. He pulled his gloves off and handed them off as well as Mrs. Fletcher came bustling down the corridor from the kitchen area.
“Dinner is ready, Mr. Smith. Shall I send a tray up to Lady Pamela?”
“No. I will take a tray up to her. Fix it and I’ll be in to fetch it in a minute.” He strode to the drawing room and poured himself a brandy. He looked around the room as he sipped on the fine French liquor.
He’d never been prouder of what he’d done for himself than he was now with Pamela upstairs in his house, under his protection.
When he’d made enough money to open the club, he spent time and money for tutors to teach him what he needed to know to be a gentleman. Maybe never by birth, but he was determined to be one by the way he lived.
He’d hired people to teach him proper English and manners, select his wardrobe, then decorate his house, purchase paintings, furniture, draperies, and other things of value to make his home a haven from the world he’d been brought up in, and had been forced to endure for years.
He was only a few years away from his ultimate goal to sell the club and buy a fine hotel and restaurant, or maybe even delve into the stock market, or railroads. He would be a businessman of worth.
His wife would never want for anything and his children would know all the pleasures of childhood that had been denied him.
Anxious to see Pamela, he downed the drink and headed to the kitchen to pick up the tray.
He knocked gently on the door to the room she’d been given. What he wanted was her in his room, in his bed, but he would never shame her in that way. Once they were married, he would have her near him all the time. No separate bedrooms for them.
Even if that was the way gentlemen lived.
The door was opened by a maid named Dorothy who he’d seen many times, mostly cleaning. “Good evening, Mr. Smith.”
Giving her a quick nod in return, his attention was immediately taken with the woman lying in the bed across from him. Pamela appeared to be sleeping, but when
he moved closer, she opened her eyes and smiled at him.
He nearly dropped the tray.
Yes. He was besotted.