He studied her intently. “Do you remember my saying that the brothel came about as a favor to a friend?”
She nodded.
“She was the friend, in need of a place where she could safely ply her wares, so I provided it.”
“She was a fallen woman?”
He gave a little scoff. “More girl than woman. Fifteen when she started working. Sixteen when she approached me to see if I’d provide her with a sanctuary. She had a way about her that made it impossible to refuse her. In that one regard, at times you remind me of her.
“Anyway, some years later, one night I heard her scream. I don’t know what the blighter did to her before I got to the bedchamber, but by the time I burst through the door he was straddling her and banging her head against the floor. I dragged him off her, beat him bloody, and tossed him out into the street. By the time I returned to her, she was sittingon the edge of the bed. She said her head hurt a little, and she was going to retire for the night. I wished her pleasant dreams. On the way out, she patted my shoulder. ‘Always my hero.’ She was dead by morning. A true hero would have known to fetch a physician.”
Her heart was breaking for him. How could he believe any of that was his fault? “That’s the reason you sent for a surgeon the night I was hurt, the reason you watched me so closely.”
“I couldn’t have borne it if you’d died.”
He’d not meant to be so fervent in his declaration, hoped she understood it was the guilt of another death on his conscience and not some ardent affection toward her that was responsible for what would have been better left unsaid. Because whatever he was beginning to feel for her was also better left unfelt. She had her plans, her goals, and they certainly didn’t include him.
Neither spoke as they made their way back to the waiting cab. He was torn between being grateful she’d not left without him and desperately wishing she had.
As though she’d actually come up and tapped him on the shoulder, he’d been acutely aware of her arrival as he knelt before Sally’s grave. Damnation, as if he hadn’t been telling Sally about her, and his words had conjured her.
The two women would have liked each other, he was rather certain of that. Althea possessed a strength he wasn’t certain she realized she owned. But life had battered it, left it bruised, as circumstances had brought her to a part of London where she didn’t belong.
When they reached the cab, he handed her up and then settled in beside her. It was beginning to feel almost natural to be so near to her, to have his thigh pressed up against hers, to have the scent of gardenia wafting around him, toglance to his left and see her pink-tinged cheeks chafed by the cold.
As they made their way relatively swiftly through the crowded streets, he felt as though he should say something—thank her for not leaving, explain the last words he’d spoken were simply the result of the cornucopia of emotions that always bombarded him when he came here, mention the brittleness of the weather—anything that would dispel the awkwardness that had settled between them. He shouldn’t have gone to the cemetery with her in tow, shouldn’t have burdened her with his regrets. All these years and still they lashed at him. They were the reason he continued to reside in a bloody brothel, wouldn’t abandon the women who relied on his reputation—and occasionally his fists—to keep them safe.
She must have felt his gaze on her, because she glanced over at him with sympathy and understanding in her eyes, and he remembered she’d only recently lost her mother. Perhaps she was struggling with her own grief and regret.
“Tell me about the women I’ll be teaching,” she said so softly that he almost didn’t hear her over the plodding of hooves, whirring of wheels, creaking of springs, shouts, and yells that comprised the cacophony of people going about their day. “What should I expect of them?”
He was grateful she was willing to not dwell on what he’d shared. But then what more was there to say on the matter?
“Lottie is flirtatious, likes to tease, and hardly takes anything seriously. I think she’ll present the greatest challenge to you because she thoroughly enjoys men, so is likely to be let go from one position after another for being generous with her favors. Lily is the shyest of the lot but has a heart of gold, is always mothering. I’ve often thought she’d make an excellent companion to a wealthy widow. Pearl and Ruby are fast friends, and I suspect where one of them goes, theother would like to follow. Hester has an interest in being a lady’s maid—again not in a noble household, but the wives of successful men have a need to be properly put together. You might consider allowing her to wait on you and teach her what a lady requires of a maid who serves her personally.”
“That’s a simple enough thing to do, although it would benefit me.”
“She’d no doubt be delighted with the practice. As I understand it, she often treats the others as if they are dolls, fiddling with their hair, telling them what they should wear.”
“I’ll talk with her about it, then.”
“Good. The last is Flora. She spends a good bit of her time tending the garden.”
As he’d spoken, her brow had begun to furrow, deeper and deeper, with each word. Her lips were parted slightly, and he considered lowering his mouth to hers and introducing their tongues. He hadn’t determined exactly what his lessons to her would entail. Any physical intimacy, even if it was only a mere touch, could lead to other things and test his resolve not to take advantage of her. Which was the reason he’d added the thousand-pounds payment should she be disappointed by his efforts. He didn’t plan to intentionally not honor his agreement to teach her what she wished to know, but he also knew the fulfillment of it could create problems. He probably should have included in the terms that at any time, if unwanted emotions began to surface, either of them could bring a halt to the lessons without any forfeit.
“You seem troubled,” he finally managed once he was able to stop thinking about her mouth.
“I didn’t expect them to be... so normal. Tending gardens, pinning up hair... I expected them to be tawdry.”
“Oh, there’s a little bit of that. It’s the reason I need you to make these diamonds in the rough sparkle a bit. They’reopen in their discussions. The topic is often sex rather than weather. They share crude jokes. They walk about scantily clad, but beneath it all, like everyone else they have things beyond their job that they enjoy. They have dreams.”
“And smiles that light tapers.”
“For some, yes. Don’t judge them by their covers.”
“I immediately liked Jewel the night I met her. She was kind, concerned, and teased you. I guess I thought her the exception.”
“In my experience, I have found her to be more the rule.”
