The Fighter and the Fallen Woman (20 page)

“Back to the Four Crowns,” he called to the carriage driver and tossed him a few coins. He watched the carriage leave, then with a jaunty bounce, he jogged up the stairs and greeted Shade.

“Good afternoon, Shade. Lovely day today. You know, I think this is the first I’ve seen the sun since being in London.” He laughed but Shade only turned away and opened the front door, indicating Sebastian should follow by a jerk of his head. He shut the door behind them, then led Sebastian to a room near the back of the house. Sebastian took the opportunity to look around, but all he could tell from the entry and hallway was that Mr. Adams liked dark wood and drawings of half-clothed women in various states of fornication. The place was meticulously clean and smelled of beeswax.

Shade knocked twice and after a few seconds, Mr. Adams called to enter. Shade opened the door and after Sebastian had passed into the room, closed it and presumably left.

Sebastian laughed as he crossed the room to the desk where Mr. Adams was seated. “That man talked my ear off from the moment I got here. I feel like I know him better than my own father.”

Mr. Adams rose and came around the desk to shake Sebastian’s hand. “That must make you feel warm and cozy.”

“Mmm, not so much. I killed him when I was nine.” At Mr. Adams’s gesture, Sebastian seated himself at one of two green wingback chairs in front of the fire. “The evils of drink. Delightfully easy to lace with rat poison.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Mr. Adams laughed. “Speaking of evils, can I tempt you with any?”

“A glass of whiskey would be delightful, and a cigar if you have one.”

Mr. Adams offered the opened cedar box full of cigars and Sebastian took one and sniffed it appreciatively. He lit it as Mr. Adams poured him his drink, and returned with it and one other.

“For a man who just spoke of the evils of drink, you’re awfully trusting to be having one.”

“Did you ever beat my mother?” Sebastian dipped the end of his cigar in the whiskey before taking another puff.

“No.” Mr. Adams sat in the other chair and lit his own cigar.

“Then we have no quarrels. In fact, I hope we have nothing but a successful partnership.”

Mr. Adams held his glass up and Sebastian clinked his against it. “I think we might be well on our way.”

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, the glass of whiskey resting on an armrest, and crossed his legs. He took a deep puff of his cigar and said, “Oh?” on the exhale.

“I’ve done a little investigating about you and your shipping business, especially with such a tempting offer on the table.” Mr. Adams leaned back, mirroring Sebastian, but he left his legs splayed open instead of crossing them. “You’ve got a tidy little trade going on—no complaints, no rumors, no notice by the authorities. For the few years you’ve been shipping back and forth to England, you’ve been showing a nice profit.” Mr. Adams drew on his cigar through a satisfied smile.

“Gracious, however did you find that out?” Sebastian brushed at an imaginary speck of dust on his trousers so he wouldn’t make his hand into a fist. “I understood my financial information to be confidential.”

“Every man has his price, Collins. Your bookkeeper’s here is young boys with no hair other than what’s on their head. If you don’t have a man in mind to replace him, I know several who are good with numbers and better with silence.”

“Thank you, Mr. Adams. I’ll certainly keep your generous offer in mind.” Sebastian sipped his whiskey and let it drain to the sides of his mouth before swallowing. “Does such generosity indicate merely a favor or possibly more of a partner’s interest in a well-run operation?”

Adams leaned forward, bracing his crossed arms on the arm of the chair. “The offer still includes your man Jonathan?”

“With a big red bow if you’d like.”

“Save your bow. Partner.” Adams held out his hand. Sebastian set down his whiskey and shook. He had the fight and the business. Now all he needed was the lady.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lady didn’t wake until well after noon the day of the fight. She wasn’t surprised. She remembered seeing the first light of dawn before she was able to fall asleep. After King and Shade left and she had her moment of nerves, she had sat in the kitchen with an untouched pot of tea, thinking. She probably could have stayed up longer, but Nessie tended to get up early and Lady wasn’t sure if she was ready to face her. Lady was desperate to talk to her best friend, get her advice about King, but it was no secret what Nessie thought Lady should do. As time ticked by, Lady became more and more torn, and unless Nessie started to bend, Lady knew her heart would be completely ripped in two.

Still not sure how she would deal with Nessie or what to tell her, Lady tried not to worry about it as she slipped into a day dress of a faded gray homespun, tied her hair back in a tail and rinsed her face.

“Lady, is that you?” Nessie called up the stairs.

“Be right down.” She looked at herself in the mirror. Nessie or King? Best friend or lover?

She went downstairs and when she entered their cozy and familiar kitchen, felt an ache in her heart. After their years together at the Red Door, after their years together here under Mr. Adams’s protection, it was just the two of them, drinking tea and sharing impossible dreams. They’d stood back to back against the world and survived, and now something was prying them apart. The only thing Lady didn’t know was if it was somebody else doing the prying or if it was coming from between them.

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to worry you’d fallen back asleep.” Nessie put the teapot on the table. She followed with the toast and marmalade. “Well, don’t just stand there. Sit and eat. Big day today with the fights and all.”

Lady let herself be nudged to the table. She sat down and wrapped her hands around her cup. Even though she wasn’t chilled, the warmth felt good, anchored her.

“Goodness, you’re white as a ghost. You should eat something, dear.”

Lady put on a smile. It must look as weak as she did, but she was trying. “Only if you sit with me. I feel like I haven’t spoken with you in forever.”

“Well, with the tournament and Mr. Adams and him asking you to nurse King, you’ve been busier than usual.” Nessie braced one hand on the table and sank into the opposite chair. Lady ignored the bitterness with which she’d spoken King’s name and simply poured her some tea and added sugar and lemon. “Though you had some extra time last night since you made Mr. Adams wait the way you did. Yes, that was one whole evening with some unexpected time.” She smiled at Lady, a wicked smile full of pride.

“It was nice.” Lady’s thoughts flashed to King and how she’d spent her extra time. It felt good to make her own choices, follow her own wishes.

“Well, it may have been nice, but don’t do it too much. I can’t see Mr. Adams enjoying that game more than once or twice. But I’ll give you how well it worked, possibly even tied Mr. Adams more firmly to you.” It was obvious by Nessie’s smile she thought that was a good thing. Lady sat silently, feeling something slip away as Nessie added more tea to her cup. She never did like it when her tea cooled.

“What about leaving, Nessie? Escaping to a cottage on the sea and not needing to play any man’s game?” It was time to address this head-on.

“Pshaw.” Nessie grinned, certain, Lady was sure, that she was joking. “Like either one of us would really want to do that.”

“I do,” Lady said softly and watched Nessie’s face as she discerned the truth in Lady’s.

“What do you mean, leave? Where would we go? What would we do? What would happen to Mr. Adams?” Nessie started to stir her tea so fast it sloshed over the side of the cup.

Lady reached across the table and took Nessie’s hand, stilling her frenetic stirring. “That’s just it—we could go anywhere, do anything. Wouldn’t you like to live somewhere where you wouldn’t be beckoned in the middle of the night to spy on me, to not have to constantly dress me up like a rich doll, to not have to wash sheets every night?”

“But I don’t mind doing that.” Nessie sounded like a lost little girl, and it hurt.

“But what about us working on our quilt and drinking tea, and living as friends instead of a rich man’s mistress and her servant? What about planting a little flower garden because we want to, because we can?”

“How was I supposed to know you really meant leaving instead of us imagining a little dream house? I don’t know how we’re supposed to live. Without Mr. Adams, how would we have a roof over our head, money to buy food?”

“In a few days, at the end of the tournament, I think we’ll have enough to leave. Mr. Adams has given me almost enough in jewels that we won’t have to worry about any of it.” She tried to sound excited, happy, but Nessie’s despair was making it hard. “And I think getting us away from men like Mr. Adams will be hard, dangerous even, but worth the risk. No more getting hurt.” Lady trailed a gentle finger down Nessie’s scar.

“Are you sure?” Nessie finally asked, blurting it out. “Is it really so bad being with Mr. Adams?”

Lady withdrew her hand and took a bite of toast, primarily to give her time to think. She set the slice down and wiped her lips and fingers with her napkin.

“Poor Nessie. Now you’re the one who looks pale,” she said with a sad smile. “And yes, I’m sure. It has nothing to do with Mr. Adams or Mr. Collins or anybody else who would purchase my services. I’m not happy being in a cage, even a beautiful one. I’d rather be in a tiny cottage tending my own garden for food but be free.”

“But it’s such a hard life, Lady, having to work and scrape for every morsel of food, for every stitch of clothing. Isn’t that a cage too? Think of what you could have if you did take over the Red Door. You’d be rich, powerful, still Mr. Adams’s mistress with all of the influence that has but more independent because of all the girls you could have service him instead. Is freedom really worth giving that all up?”

Lady wondered if she had been too dismissive of her own feelings, too protective of Nessie. Perhaps the time for plain talk was here. Lady focused on Nessie with what she was sure was a less-than-friendly look. Gentleness was not what was needed anymore.

“Yes, we have food and a roof over our heads, but at what cost? Did you know Mr. Adams sent King and Shade over last night to check on me and they searched the house, your room included? That they would have even more of a right to do that if we lived at the Red Door?”

Lady took a small measure of gratification in Nessie’s reaction. She looked somewhere between nausea and tears and Lady wanted to say,
Good.
That’s what I feel every time
he
comes over and puts his hands on me.

“But that just means he worries about you,” Nessie said in a small voice.

“You know what it means, especially after what he did the night of the party.” Lady’s voice was low, almost void of emotion. Nessie’s face replayed the last several days as clearly as if she’d been watching the events on stage, her eyes going wide as she came to the conclusion Lady had accidentally thrown at her.

“It’s because of King, isn’t it? He’s the reason you want to leave, why you want to get away from Mr. Adams. Because you know if Mr. Adams finds out you’ve been cuckolding him, he’ll make you pay.” Nessie’s voice rose and Lady almost flinched, not only from the force of Nessie’s anger, but from the small sting of guilt in having her friend find out this way.

“Nessie, I said this has nothing to do with whoever would purchase my services. It has to do with us escaping this life, to not be known as whores any longer.”

Nessie’s eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. “So you have been sleeping with King.” For as much as she was shouting earlier, this time her voice was a harsh whisper.

“Where do you get such a notion?” The ground beneath Lady’s feet was crumbling so quickly and so violently that she knew she couldn’t tell Nessie anything more about last night, or any other night. Their friendship, as well as their future, now hinged on the choice they each made at this crossroads.

“Because you didn’t deny it. Twice you could have said you weren’t, but you didn’t.” Nessie slumped in her chair. “Why, Lady, why?” she moaned.

Somebody knocked on the back door and the sound caused her to jump. Nessie didn’t even flinch. She knelt down in front of Nessie and lifted her chin so she would look her in the eyes.

“Nessie, you don’t need to worry about this. I’ll take care of it, and I’ll take care of Mr. Adams. Now go upstairs and lie down because I’m going to need you to help make me beautiful for tonight.” She forced a bright smile and it must have worked, because Nessie smiled too.

“For Mr. Adams?”

“Yes, for Mr. Adams. Can you do that for me?”

The knock sounded again and this time Nessie looked. “It’s Christopher with today’s delivery from the butcher,” Lady said, getting Nessie to her feet and leading her to the stairs. “I’ll take care of it. I just need you to get some rest.”

“To help make you beautiful for Mr. Adams.” Nessie sounded hollow.

“For Mr. Adams,” Lady echoed and watched Nessie disappear into her room. She had a bad feeling this was the beginning of the end.

* * *

Sebastian looked around the warehouse he’d long ago dubbed “Hell” and smiled. Watching the fights for the consolation prize had always bored him senseless, made him laugh at the losers trying to regain some sense of their manhood, but now that he was watching them from a large, lushly upholstered chair, he was having fun. It would have been delightful even without the blonde whore on his lap whose lips were doing deliciously naughty things to his earlobe.

Why hadn’t he thought of this before? Watch the fights in a comfortable chair with a willing woman on hand. Sheer genius! Too bad Adams only had half of it, but truth be told, he had the right half. He looked at Jenny, so close to being like Lady but again so far. She caught his eye and giggled, then went back to watching the crowd while diddling his ear.

Be patient
,
Sebastian.
This chickadee isn’t for you.
Your magnificent peacock will be coming soon.

He heard a buzz near the entry and was willing to bet the stack of pound notes in his pocket what it was about. Sure enough, in less than one minute Adams waddled up to Sebastian’s right, Lady following one step behind.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“Why, whatever do you mean, my dear friend?” Sebastian glanced at Lady and inclined his head. “My apologies for not rising and greeting you as a gentleman should, Lady, but as you can see, making any other part of my body rise would be a struggle right now.”

“Yes, I can see,” she answered in a dry voice and her wit added one more drop to Sebastian’s glee.

“I mean, what’s the meaning of sitting here like some bleeding king, one of my girls on your lap?”

“My apologies, Mr. Adams. I should have told you,” Sebastian said in what he believed was the most sincere of voices. “All of this standing on such hard ground has caused my poor gout to flare up. Standing is simply agony. I had Jonathan bring me a seat in order to watch the fights in comfort. Given the more than generous way you treat your people, I was sure you would see no problem in having me more suitably situated. Please tell me I didn’t overstep any bounds and haven’t risked our friendship over such a paltry issue?”

“Well, no, I suppose not.”

“You are too kind, Mr. Adams. And regarding Miss Jenny here—”

“Miss Jenny,” she said and giggled. “I like that. It makes me sound like a fine...” She glanced up at Lady then swiftly looked away. Sebastian could feel her body shaking with silent laughter.

“Yes, regarding Miss Jenny here—” he gave her a firm pinch on her bottom to keep her quiet, “—you’ll find that Mrs. Henderson has not only received her rate for taking one of her girls out, but a handsome tip for being so accommodating on such short notice. You can ask her if you’d like.”

“Oh, yes, it were all proper like.” Jenny smiled in her mischievous way at Mr. Adams. Sebastian resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I meant he could ask Mrs. Henderson, Miss Jenny, or perhaps I should call you Miss Henny because you’re being as silly as a hen,” Sebastian scolded in a playful tone, tickling Jenny as she squirmed on his lap. She squealed and rocked her hips back and forth and Sebastian thought if she wasn’t careful, she was going to squirm her way right onto his hungry cock. This chickadee might not be his peacock, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy her anyway.

“Well, if it’s all done right then, I suppose I can’t complain,” Mr. Adams said and Sebastian felt sorry for Lady. If the little man was sulking over such a minor event, he was in for some quite rude awakenings before too long.

“My greatest thanks, Mr. Adams. You are a prince among men.” Sebastian bowed as much as he was able. He looked at Lady. “And you a princess.”

He kept eye contact with her even as his adversary turned away. Just before Mr. Adams pulled Lady after him, Sebastian put every ounce of longing he had for her in his eyes and mouthed,
But you could be my queen.

He watched as she stared at him, a little crease appearing on her forehead. She hadn’t responded to Mr. Adams’s direction and he had stopped and looked back at her. Right then, Lady’s eyes flared open and her mouth dropped slightly and Sebastian allowed himself the smallest, wickedest smile.

“Lady.” Mr. Adams gave a little tug on her arm.

“Oh, yes. Of course, Mr. Adams. It only now struck me who Mr. Collins reminded me of and my head simply flew away at the thought.”

“Who’s that, pet?” Mr. Adams returned to Lady’s side, both of them studying Sebastian.

“King George the third.”

Mr. Adams leaned forward and peered at Sebastian, then burst into loud, raucous laughter. “Right you are, pet. Right you are.”

“Though I’m flattered to be compared to a king, may I ask why the resemblance is so amusing?” Sebastian asked.

“He’s the one who lost the colonies.” Mr. Adams laughed again as he strolled into the crowd.

“And he also was mad,” Lady added, following Mr. Adams after giving Sebastian an arch look.