“Perhaps next time you could bring a proper snifter?”
Nicholas’s lip curled. “I will think about it.” He gave the worn sofa a dubious look before sitting on its edge. “Must you stay in such a sordid place?”
Wesley restrained himself from backhanding the whelp. Did the boy think he had a choice? “Better out of sight than caught. Tell me how the meeting with Lady Jersey went.”
Nicholas waved a hand nonchalantly. “I playedle cavalierto perfection. After I presented her with a quick charcoal sketch, she was mine to manipulate as I please.”
“Do not get too cocky. Lady Jersey is much more shrewd than she looks. She would not be able to preside over that nest of venomous vipers from Almack’s if she were not.”
“Perhaps I should take her to bed then. Most women are quite willing to talk afterwards. I could gather information.”
Wesley laughed and took a swig of brandy. “I would not wager a pence on that. The woman has meticulously cultivated propriety since her mother-in-law was not especially given to faithfulness.”
Nicholas shrugged. “I could plough a few other matrons’ rows. I already had offers the other night.”
Wesley put his cup down and leaned forward across the scarred coffee table, well away from the splintered edge that poked out. “Forget about married women. We do not need to fend off angry, cuckolded husbands at the moment. Slatterns and hussies abound if you must slake your need. Concentrate on the little Barclay bitch. How did you fare with her?”
“The chit is naïve. A little flattery went a long way. I sent roses the next day just to be sure. I dare say, she is smitten.”
“And the Highlander? Was he at therout?”
Nicholas frowned. “Like a bloodhound. I no sooner had maneuvered the girl outside—and had not had the opportunity to persuade her friend to leave—when he loomed in the doorway, ordering her to go inside.”
“And you said nothing?”
“I could hardly challenge the man and create a disturbance. The wealthy matrons think I am a charming, suave Frenchman, and it serves my purposes to let them think that. Besides, the chit made it quite clear she favors brains over brawn. I saw no reason to damage my hands.”
Wesley looked at the boy’s slender hands. “Do you even know how to fight?”
“I am quite skilled with both a rapier and a pistol.” Nicholas’s eyes turned glacial blue. “There were times my mother’sfriendsneeded to be persuaded to leave.”
“She still sluts then?”
A mask slipped in place. “She entertains gentleman callers.”
Wesley nearly laughed and reached for his brandy. The woman must be near forty. How attractive could she still be? He managed to keep a straight face. “I can imagine old men would take a while to satisfy.”
Nicholas frowned. “Vous ne comprenez pas.Mamandoes not receive the callers herself. She employsla bellasfor that. She is quite content with herspécial amie, Gabrielle.”
Wesley choked, the amber liquid spilling over his chin. The whore mother preferred a woman? Briefly, he recalled she had never asked him to stay over. At the time, he’d felt relieved she demanded no more than coin. That had changed once Nicholas entered the picture, but the bitch had only wanted more money. Not once had she ever asked him to visit. Not that he wanted to, even though he was living in France.
“How long has she had thisamie?”
“Always.”
“Always?”
Nicholas shrugged. “Since as long as I can remember.”
Wesley narrowed his eyes as revulsion shot through him. How could the whore have made him feel like such a stud if she preferred women? The bitch could not have been acting, could she? No woman bested him.
Perhaps he would have a score to settle once he was safely back in France.
