As she turned, her black veil rippled. He complied with her silent command to follow. She might be as impudent as the pup sitting back at the table, but as the owner of the establishment, she deserved his consideration. Besides, through their long acquaintance, she’d always found a way to meet his needs, spoken and unspoken.
In fact, she knew more about him than anyone living.
He wasn’t the only one whose secrets she knew, either. Even the Home Office privately envied the information she’d collected over the years—just one of the many reasons she and her establishment could not be touched.
Slowly, and with her usual, dignified grace, she led him into her private domain. She closed the door behind them but did not take a seat.
“Your play has become deep, of late.”
He bristled. “I never wager more than I can risk.”
“Of course not,” she said dryly. “The Marquess of Redver is always in command.”
She uttered his title in an altered, bombastic voice he recognized as one she’d always used when referring to Father.
His thigh muscle twitched. He clenched and unclenched his jaw.
“Are you comparing my behavior to his?” If so, he resented the implication. “The comparison will never be apt.”
“And yet many an unwilling young man has turned into his father.”
“Enough.” An itch skittered from his hip to his knee. He cracked his neck. The air in her office was stifling.Why did she keep the room so hot?“I need the Skylark.”
She didn’t move. “If coupling ameliorates your condition, a more economical solution would be to find a wife.”
“You know that’s impossible.”
“Do I?”
He narrowed his eyes, silencing the question with a sneer. Of course, there were ambitious women who would overlook his smut-and-scandal tarnished name. He felt toward them exactly the way he felt toward his father since long before his parents’ divorce.
Revolted.
She sighed. “I indulge what you believe are your needs. But my indulgence has limits.”
He crossed his feet at the ankle and leaned against the door jam. Insouciance meant to provoke. “What have I done to displease you now?”
“You skewered one of my guests with a glance.”
He frowned. “The impudent pup at my table?”
“Not your table, Redver. But yes…that man. I’ve never known you to be uncivil. Contained, perhaps. Impassive. Even aloof. But boorishly, intentionally rude? Toward an inferior?”
She was right. Damn her. “Hardly a skewer. A gentle—”
The widow snorted.
“—set down.”
Unnerving, only being able to see her features in the muted shadow cast by the veil. Surely, she was studying him. Possibly with brow raised. Well, he would give as little away as possible.
She already knew too much.
Truth was, he didn’t know why the young man set him on edge.
“Do you treat the ‘impudent pup,’ as you called him, with disdain because he never misses one of your stepmama’s salons?”
Caroline? He visitedCaroline, too? Adrian masked his surprise. “Of course not.”
