CHAPTER6
The house where he had kept his former mistress had been empty for several months in anticipation of his impending betrothal. There was absolutely no reason why Garrick should, at this very moment, be escorting his brother’s unsuitable betrothed over its threshold whilst she was dressed in the shabbiest guise of a gentleman he had ever beheld.
None save lunacy.
And that was most definitely his motivator. It had to be. How else could he explain bringing her here, where they would be utterly alone and where he knew there was a most accommodating bed?
“Surely you did not expect to fool anyone with this ludicrous garb,” he could not resist commenting as he lit a candelabra within the front entry, sending light to illuminate her clearly feminine form.
Any man would have to take but one look at her to note her hips and arse, her lovely face and skin as soft as silk. There was nothing masculine about her. True, she had obviously gone to some lengths to flatten her generous breasts. He hated to think of the torture she must have subjected them to, and the worst part of him thought about how he would like to soothe those insulted attributes with his lips and tongue. Perhaps even his teeth as well.
But that was the lunacy once again, which seemed to dog him with increased determination with every moment that passed in her presence. And whilst he was most certainly teetering on the brink of madness, given his reckless decision to bring her here, he also had a far more noble force propelling him. He needed to find Aidan, and he had reason to believe he was at last closer to doing so.
“I have fooled many, many people on innumerable occasions,” she said with the airs of a duchess. “I always dress thus when Aidan takes me to bare-knuckle boxing matches.”
Even his mother would have been impressed with her regal poise, dubious lineage aside. Admiration, however, was decidedly unwelcome when directed toward Miss Sutton. He quashed it with ruthless determination, reminding himself that she had just announced his brother had squired her about London.
Had Aidan kissed her too?
Had she responded in the same manner?
Damn it to hell, what was the matter with him?
He busied himself by lighting some sconces, bringing more light flickering to life. “My brother has been accompanying you to bare-knuckle matches whilst you are dressed as an unconvincing gentleman?”
Did the woman not appreciate how irregular this entire affair was?
“I do believe I spoke plainly.” Her tone was tart, a rebuke.
How dare she?
Garrick turned back to her only to discover she was hovering far too near, her green-brown eyes sparkling even in the shadow cast by her brim, generous lips tilted into the slightest hint of mirth. Of course she dared. Look at her, all that glorious auburn hair somehow piled beneath a monstrosity of a hat, lovelier than the most sought-after demimondaine.
“What did you intend to do with the hat?” he asked, surprising himself with the question.
The answer did not matter. Every moment he tarried here with her was one less spent in more worthy endeavors. And yet, it would seem he could not help himself. He was curious about everything when it came to this woman. What was wrong with him?
Her lips pursed. “The hat?”
His irritation grew, magnified by the desire that had already sparked to life. “The one on your head, madam.”
Who was he fooling? The desire had never truly stopped burning. From the moment he had seen her, he had wanted her. Coveted her for himself, regardless of how very wrong such a need was. Regardless of how very wrong she was.
“Oh.” Her gloved fingers went to the brim, gliding along it. “Keep it on my head, of course. I never had to remove it at the matches.”
As he had thought.
“Therein lies the problem, Miss Sutton,” he informed her, keeping his voice haughty. “One of many. You were intending to venture into the gaming rooms at The Duke’s Bastard whilst wearing a hat. The members of the club all typically remove their outer garments upon entering. Not only would every gentleman within have noticed you for that reason, not a one of them would have been stupid enough to mistake you for a man. Truly, if you are intent upon going about in such a guise, you ought to be intelligent enough to consider no gentleman carries on with his hat upon his head for the entirety of a social event.”
Her shoulders stiffened and her chin went up, a posture he recognized now as being defensive. “They do for bare-knuckle boxing.”
“Ruffians.” His lip curled with distaste. That Aidan would have taken her to such a rough crowd rankled, although Garrick knew it should not. “One hardly ought to consider the actions of an assortment of lewd and rough characters at a bare-knuckle bout the harbinger of polite society.”
“Thank you for the lesson, Lord Lordly.” She crossed her arms over her sadly flattened breasts and pinned him with a narrow-eyed glare. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m a busy woman. I haven’t the time to dawdle with you in the house where you keep your ladybirds.” She paused and gave an exaggerated sniff of the air. “None of them are about this evening, are they? I don’t smell perfume.”
Not again with the Lord Lordly business. He absolutely despised when she called him that, and Miss Sutton knew it. Which was why she used the name at every possible opportunity. And how had she known Letitia had always been surrounded by a cloud of perfume? Further, how had she understood the manner of residence to which he had brought her?
She was an intelligent woman, Miss Penelope Sutton. A force to be reckoned with. He had known it from the start, but he understood it more now, standing here with her in the place he had vowed never to return when he had bid his farewell to his mistress and given her the congé.
“I advise you to speak to me with greater respect, madam,” he bit out, tamping down the urge to kiss those mocking lips.
“Or what shall you do?” she taunted, a teasing smile curving her mouth.
Kiss you.
Bed you.
“I shall make certain none of my friends and acquaintances patronize your family’s establishment,” he said instead.
The smile fled her lips. “Are you threatening me, Lord Lordly? I would have thought you’d realized your empty promises don’t frighten me by now.”
How brazen she was.
“It is not empty,” he assured her silkily. “Nor is it a threat. I brought you here to speak with you about my brother. Such discourse is naturally best undertaken where no one else is lurking about with eager ears, all the better to spread scandalous gossip.”
“Then let’s have done with it.” She pouted, tapping her booted foot on the floor. “I’ve places to be.”
She had places to be.
Where?
And with whom?