As he neared the doorway, Mrs. Cohen burst out angrily, “What do you mean you’re not needed? Tonight is always our busiest night.”
Constantine peeked through the gap, noting the dark-haired girl was indeed tiny when compared with the madam of the bawdy house. But she had the courage to stand up against a madam who could very likely throw her out into the cold Wiltshire winter without a moment’s hesitation or regret.
The madam glanced over her shoulder and he ducked back out of sight before he was seen. He might be impatient for an introduction so he could dismiss his curiosity soon after, but he was interested in their argument too. It was not every day a man overheard an honest conversation in a place like this.
“I refuse to listen to Mallory’s dull playing for one more night,” the dark-haired girl muttered in a smooth, sultry voice that belied her tiny appearance. “She hasn’t the talent to entertain the whole room and your busiest night is always filled with the same faces.”
“Lord Grayling has come and needs to be entertained,” Mrs. Cohen answered in a shocked tone.
On hearing his name, Constantine eased close to the door and peeked through the crack again. The dark-haired nymph stood with her back to the fire, rubbing her hands together as if she was chilled through. Judging by the sheer drifts of muslin wrapped about her that revealed the slim curves of her hips, she very well might be.
“If Solange is the sort to tempt him, then I’m sure he will be well satisfied,” she said, her tone dripping with contempt. Her shoulder lifted a touch as she dismissed him out of hand. “Lord Squires is always expected at ten. He usually asks for me.”
Mrs. Cohen drew closer. “Squires would be nothing compared to Grayling in your bed. If you would but listen to what was said of him you would not be so dismissive. How can you not accept the challenge of stealing him away from Solange?”
The slim woman turned, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Gossip is seldom accurate and for a madam who should want peaceful relations between her employees, you certainly are stirring the pot of late. Why would you want me to captivate Lord Grayling so well that he sets aside that insipid creature? It’s hardly a fair challenge.”
Constantine choked. They were discussing him as if he were a prime piece of beef. He clamped his lips together and fought to remain silent.
The madam shrugged. “Solange is getting above herself.”
A deep throaty laugh left the smaller woman’s throat, forcing Constantine to revise his initial estimate of her as someone young and inexperienced. “And that shall never do,” she purred. “Very well. I shall do what I can to lure the handsome lord into my bed just so you may prove your point and give Solange the setdown she deserves.” She studied her fingertips by firelight. “I think as a reward I should have another trinket, one for my fingers this time.”
“You and your gemstones.” Mrs. Cohen wagged an excessively bejeweled finger at the tiny woman. “Only if you succeed, Calista. Only if he is sated and comes back for you another night, then I’ll give you half his fee too.”
A devilishly wicked smile twisted the dark-haired girl’s lips, turning a formerly remarkable face into the most arousing sight he had ever beheld. Those lips and whiskey-brown eyes were so damn expressive. What would she look like as they made love? He adjusted his trousers. Damn woman could even affect him through the crack of the door. Her sudden throaty laugh sent chills racing down his spine. “Oh, I’m sure Lord Grayling’s seduction is well in hand. Trust me on this.”
“What would I do without you?” Mrs. Cohen murmured, genuine affection softening her voice. “These are powerful men and must be looked after as if they were made of glass.”
“Not glass, Linnie. Something much, much warmer.” Calista’s gaze shifted to the doorway where he hid. Her lips lifted into a cunning smile as if she knew he was there, listening while they planned his seduction. “I’ve been at this for a long time now and I know what men want. Trust me.”
The challenge was boldly made. All men wanted the same thing from a woman, didn’t they? No demands but on their body, no conversation save for what they expected in bed. There was no doubt her experiences had made Calista overconfident, too. But his curiosity was roused and he was determined to find out more about her.
Constantine moved until he stood openly in the doorway, nudging the opening wider so he could view the entire room. Before him, Mrs. Cohen towered over the woman called Calista who didn’t reach higher than his chest. C
onstantine was drawn to the stubborn, smug glint in Calista’s eyes. They sparkled with the thrill of her dare.
Her gaze dropped to his groin and her lips curved into a satisfied smile. Damn woman. She thought she’d won already. However, he’d show her he could hold his own when it came to pleasure. There was no point pretending he was unaware of her game.
He moved into the room and cleared his throat. “An introduction, Mrs. Cohen?”
Mrs. Cohen spun about quickly, her manner changing to one of deference. “Lord Grayling. I did not… I was led to believe you were otherwise occupied.”
Cohen sent Calista a furious glance. Was the girl in trouble with her employer for failing to inform her that a guest was listening to every word they said? He hoped the punishment would not be too severe. “So I overheard.” Constantine smiled winningly at the madam. “However, I believe there is a trinket to be won for a successful seduction. Do you place wagers involving all your patrons? The gentlemen who recommended your establishment will be interested in that tidbit.”
Mrs. Cohen pressed her hand to her brow. “No, never.”
Calista strutted forward, hands on her hips, haughty glint firmly in place. God, she had nerve. The bold move placed her between him and the bawd as if the larger woman might need her protection. “This was a private conversation, my lord.”
“About me.”
She shrugged as if the matter were of no importance. “Wagers are placed in any number of places and at any time about many things. Do you take offence to each and every one?”
“I never said I was offended. I just doubt your ability to do as you claim.”
Calista’s lips pressed together as if she was annoyed by his skepticism regarding her prowess in the bedroom. A wild impulse to laugh at her vexation rose in his chest. This woman did not like her claims to be challenged. That made him all the more determined to spend the night in her bed purely to see the lengths she would go to win her pretty bauble from the madam.
Her eyes narrowed to slits. She might be tiny but perhaps she wasn’t as delicate as he’d first thought. Calista was no young miss but a mature woman, one who might have extensive experience in dealing with demanding men. Would she enjoy the challenge of her work, too?