Take advantage of being left to her own devices, inspect every carefully planned element, and then log in her book each stratagem and rationale and, hell, even the dimensions and angles of the triangle sandwiches.
And shedid. Shehad. In between remembering his expressive lips crushed to hers and the feel of his strong arms cradling her close.
It wasn’t even about the swan’s teasing recommendation to accept the invitation to go upstairs with the duke if he asked. Unity didn’t bother lying to herself about what she would do the next time. Of course she would go with him. She would drag him up the stairs by his cravat if it got them to a bedchamber faster.
That was the easy part. A meaningless tumble was something anyone could walk away from.
The hard part was making it meaningless.
ShelikedLambley, damn him. She hadn’t meant to or expected to. He was rich and white and powerful, born to a title and luxury and privilege. She’d expected stilted conversations at best, if he condescended to speak with her at all.
And they’d somehow become friends. More than friends and less than friends, at the same time. He desired her enough to kiss her senseless, respected her enough to listen to her ideas... and yet, she only fit into his life one day a week, the twilight hour before the masquerade.
A temporary diversion. She couldn’t let herself forget.
Ah, here she was. She hauled open the door to noisy, smoky Eshu’s Altar and stepped inside.
“Miss Unity!” called out dozens of gamblers at once, some in obvious delight and others pretending to hide their cards or their chips from her view.
Normally she greeted them all by name with a smile or a teasing remark, but today she was struck at the parallels between Sampson’s Cheapside gaming hell and Lambley’s Mayfair masquerades.
Both locales greeted her with enthusiasm when she walked in the door. At the duke’s, she was Lady X, one more anonymous face among many. Here, she was Miss Unity Thorne, appreciated for exactly who and what she was.
At Lambley’s, liveried footmen surrounded her at once with silver trays piled artfully with crystal goblets of the finest champagne. Here, Sampson beckoned from the other side of the bar, one hand holding a glass of her favorite brandy and the other wiping down the counter with a worn brown rag.
Two wholly separate spheres, Unity reminded herself. This was the one she belonged to.
Sampson slid the glass of brandy across the counter toward Unity. “Heading to the theatre tonight?”
“Just came from there.” She’d traded in the gown she’d just worn to Lambley’s for a new one he hadn’t yet seen.
“How are the actress friends?” He wiggled his brows. “I’m still waiting for you to introduce me.”
“Anyone with half a brain should love to meet you, but you know how it is. They barely leave the theatre for long enough to go home and sleep. When you’re not the star, you have to do whatever you can to stay employed.”
That, and they were seeking protectors with money to burn.
“Now you have two posts.” Sampson wiped the bar, but his eyes were on her. “Doyouever get to sleep?”
“Three posts.” Unity held up her reticule and clinked the coins inside. “I intend to turn your clients’ pockets inside out at the whist table today.”
“Gambling is not employment,” he chided her.
She sipped her brandy. “Rich, coming from a man who has built his fortune on that exact enterprise.”
“I manage the venue,” he reminded her. “I don’t sit at the tables. Have you ever considered slowing down?”
“Slowing... down?” She stared at him, appalled.
“You run headlong into things. Into everything.”
“If I see something I can do, I do it,” she said defensively.
“Here are a few things you could do.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Slow down. Breathe. Have a moment when you’re not running yourself ragged.”
“I have to work harder than everyone else if I’m to have a chance at succeeding,” she said. “People tell me my dreams are impossible. I’m a woman. I’m Black. I’ve no one I can count on but myself. But I know I can become a successful business owner if I try hard enough.Youdid it.”
“I’m not a woman,” Sampson said dryly. “And I didn’t do it on my own. You helped me, just like you helped your cousin. Perhaps you could make a living out of helping others build their businesses.”
