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A Lady’s Trust Page 5


  He looked up, almost seeming surprised to see her sitting there. He placed his pencil on the desk and stretched. Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. His muscles flexed under his coat, stretching the seams. For someone who spent a lot of time copying numbers and sitting at a desk, he certainly had quite a nice form.

  She closed her mouth and looked down at the desk when he caught her staring at him. Her face flamed when he chuckled.

  “Would you like a break, Amelia?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I would.” She stood, stretching herself, and was amused to see him staring at her as she’d just been staring at him. Except, instead of his face growing red as hers had, his eyes traveled over her body with a hungry look, making her face flush again.

  He waved toward the door and she exited the room. They made their way down the hall to the dining room where a pot of coffee, and one of tea, sat on the sideboard, along with milk, sugar, cups and saucers. An array of biscuits and tarts decorated a silver platter alongside the drinks.

  “Is this to keep you awake while you’re struggling with all those numbers?” Amelia poured tea into one of the cups.

  “It helps.” He picked up another cup and filled it with coffee, the steam rising, its bold and lovely scent infusing the air as he poured. She oftentimes wondered why coffee smelled so much better than it tasted.

  “If you want something more substantive to eat, there is a buffet table on the game floor. It’s where I got your food last night.”

  She stirred a bit of honey into her tea. “Ah, that was why it hadn’t taken you long to fill up a plate. I wondered about that.”

  They sat at the table where they’d dined a few hours before. Amelia stirred her tea. “I find I am fascinated by this place. I’ve never seen anything like it—”

  “—Which you would not have since ladies are not allowed,” Driscoll finished for her.

  “Yet, I’m to work in one.” Amelia took a sip of tea after blowing on it.

  “Yes. However, your identity will be unknown, and therefore, your reputation protected.”

  “And you believe I have a reputation to protect?”

  His brows rose. “Don’t you?”

  It was time to pull back. If the questions continued, she would reveal something she’d rather not. She shrugged and sipped more of her tea.

  They sat in companionable silence drinking their beverages and listening to the hum of the roulette wheel, the roll of dice, and groans from men who were no doubt on the losing side of a table.

  After a while, Amelia turned to ask Driscoll a question and found him staring at her. She’d seen that look before from men she’d met at the few social events she’d attended in the village near her family’s country estate.

  Her heart sped up and she felt a strange tingle in her middle. She’d never had that reaction to the village men, but Driscoll Rose’s heavy-lidded eyes watching her so thoughtfully as he slumped in his chair, his long finger circling the rim of his teacup made her skin feel prickly, as if a lightning storm was approaching.

  She licked her dry lips. “What?”

  7

  Driscoll knew he had completely lost his grip on common sense as he leaned toward Amelia, cupped her face in his hands and brought his mouth close to hers. “I want to kiss you.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Why?”

  Since she didn’t pull back, instead of answering, he moved the few inches separating them and covered her mouth with his. He nearly moaned with pleasure. Her lips were warm, moist and honey-scented from the tea. He removed his hands from her face to wrap her in his arms, pulling her flush against him.

  He’d kissed dozens of women, but none was sweeter, softer, or fit his body so well. He nudged her lips with his tongue, and she smiled, enough movement to gain entry.

  To his delight, she slid her hands up his chest and encircled his neck, her slender fingers tugging on the back of his hair. He shifted his mouth to take the kiss deeper, more powerful.

  Amelia was sweet in her innocent response to him. Her initial unease faded, and she became more involved with his movements, which to his delight, she mimicked.

  The sound of footsteps reluctantly dragged him back to reality. The actuality of where they were and how many people could walk by stopped him cold. If it was his intention to keep Amelia’s name free from ruination or scandal, the last thing they needed was to be caught practically pawing at each other in the dining room.

  Driscoll pulled back, trying desperately to catch his breath. He glanced over at Amelia who stared at him, her fingers resting on her well-kissed lips. She opened her mouth to speak when Dante strolled into the room.

  He glanced at them, then quickly offered Driscoll a smirk that he hoped with all his being Amelia had not seen.

  “I thought you two were working on the books.” He reached for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup.

  “We’re taking a break,” Driscoll snapped.

  Dante turned and took a seat across from Amelia. “A break? Is that what you call it now?”

  Driscoll rose from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands balled into fists that he was prepared to use on his brother’s grinning mouth. “Yes, a break. Amelia and I have been staring at numbers for hours. We deserve a break.”

  His brother held his hands up in surrender. “All right. I only asked. I never remember you taking a break that involved leaving your desk.” He nodded at Amelia. “Very dedicated, my brother.”

  She raised her chin and stared at Dante. “Yes. I know he is dedicated. You are fortunate to have a partner such as him.”

  She was beautiful in the flush that remained on her face. Either from their short bout of passion, or her anger at his brother. Either way she reminded him of a female warrior.

  “I totally agree, Miss Pence.” Dante lowered his voice almost as if in repentance, which Driscoll in no way believed. “Driscoll is a fine partner. And brother.”

  “It’s time we returned to work,” Driscoll said as he pulled out Amelia’s chair.

  “In all seriousness, Driscoll, I do need a few minutes of your time. A few issues have come up that we need to discuss.”

  “Of course, do you want to go over them now?”

  Amelia walked to the doorway. “I will return to work.”

  Once she was gone, Driscoll took his seat. “What issues are there?”

  “Remember Lord Randolph Newton?” Dante took a sip of coffee.

  “The one we banned for fighting?”

  “The very same.”

  Driscoll snorted. “The man is an idiot, and ready to raise his fists for the slightest reason. Why are you bringing him up now?”

  “He appeared at the door tonight with one of his friends, Mr. Daniel Lyons, who is still a member, but close to being banned himself for cheating at cards.”

  Driscoll frowned. “If he was caught cheating at cards why hasn’t he already been banned?”

  “Because it wasn’t proven, just strongly suggested by one club member. A Lord Batterley.”

  “I know the man. He’s accused more than one member of cheating. In fact, he cornered me at White’s one afternoon with a long recitation of two other members he believed filched money from him in card games.”

  Dante shook his head. “It seems Newton showed up here with Lyons in an attempt to be reinstated.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said I would speak with you about it. My own opinion is we should keep him banned. There’s something shady about the man that I don’t like. What I wanted to know from you is how much is he in debt to us?”

  Driscoll thought for a moment. “I would have to check my books. I don’t think it’s an outstanding amount or I would know right off how much. Come with me to the office and I’ll check.” He stood. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?”

  “Yes.” Dante drained his coffee cup and set it down. “Have you learned anything else about our new employee? It seemed when I entered that th
e two of you have become—shall we say—friendly?”

  Driscoll gritted his teeth. “Don’t. Say. Any. More.”

  Dante shrugged. “I don’t care one way or the other, except we don’t know anything more about the woman now than we did the night she dropped through the window.”

  “What is your concern, then?”

  They began to walk back to the office. “Nothing really. Curious, perhaps. Unless she gives me reason to believe there is something in whatever her secret is that she’s keeping that could hurt us.” He glanced over at Driscoll. “Or you.”

  “Don’t worry about me, little brother. I can take care of myself.”

  * * *

  Amelia raised her head as Driscoll and Dante entered the office. She’d been a little concerned when Dante said he wanted to speak with his brother. As she worked on transferring numbers, questions plagued her. Had they found out who she was? Did Randolph manage to track her down? Was she about to be fired and tossed onto the street? Or, horrors, were they about to turn her over to her stepbrother?

  Although she did not truly trust them, from what she’d seen she doubted that either brother would condone her stepbrother selling her into prostitution. But who knew what sort of a story Randolph would spin for them? Men were always believed over women.

  As she worked, she had also tried to make sense of the kiss she and Driscoll had shared. She would be lying to herself if she pretended it was a complete surprise. She’d felt the attraction between them, even from the time she crawled through his window.

  At one and twenty years she had experienced a few kisses from the village boys, but absolutely nothing like she just shared with Driscoll. Her blood was still running hot and she’d yet to get her breathing completely under control.

  Her social life had been scant. She’d been able to attend some of the local assemblies while she still had her companion, Mrs. Marsh. But in the past year Randolph had dismissed the woman, saying Amelia was too old for a companion since she was considered a spinster. She always felt he let Mrs. Marsh go because he didn’t want to pay her wages anymore. Once she lacked a chaperon, attending dances was no longer possible.

  The brothers walked past the desk where she worked to a cabinet where Driscoll pulled out another ledger. He placed it on his desk and flipped a few pages. “It looks like Newton is into us for about ten pounds.”

  Amelia’s breath caught. Newton? Could they possibility be speaking of her stepbrother? A chill ran down her spine and she broke into a sweat.

  “Not a considerable amount, but certainly noteworthy.” Dante leaned back on the edge of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m still concerned about the fighting, though.”

  Oh my lord! It had to be Randolph. Were they considering allowing him back into the club? Even with a mask she was sure he would recognize her, especially if he sat at the vingt-et-un table, staring at her as she dealt cards. She had visions of him ripping off her mask and dragging her out of the club kicking and screaming.

  “I agree. I think the ban should continue.”

  Relief swept through Amelia so strong she almost cried. Her hands shook as she attempted to write numbers. Luckily neither brother was paying her any attention.

  “If Lyons shows up with Newton again, tell him he is welcome, but Newton is not.”

  “Were they turned away already?”

  “Yes. The rule is if you’re banned it matters not who you show up with, the ban stands. Now that we’ve decided to keep it in place, I will send a note around to Newton and tell him the bad news.”

  They then continued to go over the list of members who owed money and for how long, commenting that luckily the outstanding debts were not unmanageable. Dante took his leave shortly after their conversation.

  Driscoll looked over at her, but she ignored him. She didn’t want to discuss the kiss since she was still reeling from the fact that Randolph had come close to being readmitted back into the Rose Room.

  She looked up when Driscoll’s shadow fell over her desk. “Amelia?”

  “Yes?”

  “You seem upset. I didn’t want to say anything when Dante was here, but I noticed your hand shaking.”

  She waved him off. “’Tis nothing.”

  He rested his hip on her desk and swung his foot. “I want you to know Amelia, that you can trust me. If there is some sort of danger you are in, please let me know. I would protect you, but I need to know what I’m protecting you from.”

  She attempted a smile. “No danger. I think I’m merely tired.”

  He studied her carefully. “Are you upset because I kissed you?”

  It took her a moment, then she said, “No. I mean, I was not upset, maybe a little bit surprised.”

  “I think you feel the same attraction between us that I do. If not, just say so and I will never bother you again.” He reached out and brushed back an errant curl behind her ear.

  She chewed on her lip. Of course, she felt the attraction. How could she avoid it every time she looked into this man’s deep brown eyes?

  “May I be honest?”

  Driscoll’s shoulders stiffened. “Of course.”

  She stood and walked around the desk, unable to sit with him so close and think clearly. She fiddled with her dress, folding the fabric, then smoothing it out. “I won’t deny the attraction.” She blushed and he smiled. “However, I am not in a place where I can encourage the attention of a man. Any man.”

  “Ah, Amelia.” He studied her for a minute, then continued. “It comes down to trust, does it not? You don’t trust me, and in truth, we have not known each other long enough for trust to develop.”

  He reached out and took her hand, drawing her close to him. “Will you allow me to try?”

  She almost cried with frustration. Were she in any other place and time she would love to have the attentions of this man. He was handsome, charming, helpful, and caring. He and his brother ran a successful business which would provide a nice living for a wife and children.

  But she would never be that wife. Once Randolph found out where she was, he would use his guardianship to bring her back home and then pass her on to Daniel Lyons.

  “I don’t think it would work.” She drew herself up and fought the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.” Her voice shook. “But, no.”

  Before she could change her mind or collapse into a bundle of tears against his strong chest, she backed up and headed toward the door. “I think I will retire for the night. I am quite tired.”

  He didn’t move from his spot, didn’t try to stop her, but continued to watch her as she made her quick escape.

  She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  8

  Randolph Newton slammed his empty whiskey glass on the table, barely avoiding the edge of the table, and swore. “Bloody hell, where did the bitch disappear to?”

  His drinking partner, well into his cups himself, shrugged. “Her disappearance is not my problem. ‘Tis yours, my friend. You owe me.”

  Newton glowered at him. “I thought you were so anxious to get between her thighs, Lyons.”

  He nodded. “I am. But it is your responsibility to deliver her to me. I will give you three days. Then I will demand payment in coin.”

  “I don’t have the blunt. You know that. And you agreed to take Amelia in payment.”

  Lyons stretched his arms out, almost toppling from his chair. “Do I see her here, Newton? Is she sitting on my lap, Newton? Has she warmed my bed yet, Newton? A man can’t enjoy the pleasures of his mistress if she is missing, Newton.”

  Newton shook his head. “She has no friends in London. She has no money to travel back to the family estate. And even if she did, it’s already occupied.” He ran his fingers through his already-tousled hair. “Where could she go? It doesn’t make sense.” He shook his head and poured more whiskey into his glass, spilling part of it on the table.

  Lyons held out his own glass which Newton refilled.

 
They both sat brooding while they consumed their drinks. “Another annoyance,” Newton said, “is the bloody Rose brothers. Who the bloody hell do they think they are, banning me from their club? Do they know who I am?”

  “Clearly, if you’re on their banned list.”

  Newton scowled. “Fights happen all the time in those places.”

  “According to the brute they have at the door, not at The Rose Room.” Lyons hiccupped.

  “Damn aristocrats. And that last brother is a bastard. Where does he get off banning me,” Newton pounded on his chest, “a member of the nobility? I am Viscount Newton. He is nothing. A bastard, a by-blow, born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

  Daniel examined his glass which was empty again. He shrugged, glanced at the empty bottle and placed the glass on the table. “Might be a bastard, but the old earl raised him with the other two. Nothing puts foolish ideas into a man’s head more than being treated as an equal to his betters.”

  “Hah! Someone needs to bring the bastard down a peg.”

  Just as Newton settled in, thinking a nap would do well right then, Daniel asked, “What are you going to do about your sister?”

  Newton’s eyes popped open, and he slammed his glass down again. “Find her. Find the bitch and give her a well-deserved beating before I turn her over to you.”

  Daniel shrugged. “Just don’t damage the chit. I like her beautiful face just the way it is, and I don’t want to wait to shag her while she heals from injuries.” He leaned forward, grabbing the table to keep from falling. “Just make it quick. The girl or the blunt so I can buy another one.”

  * * *

  Driscoll smiled at Amelia as she entered the dining room in time for breakfast. He was still brooding about her rejection the night before, but decided not to push her, and allow her time. Time for them to discover each other and for now just be his employee.

  For now.

  He did not mean to give up. There was something about her that touched a part of him of which he’d been unaware. He liked the feeling, but at the same time knew he had to go slow. No woman had ever captured his interest for more than a few nights in his bed the way she did. Since he was treading in unknown territory, it was best to give Amelia time to trust him.