Page 14 of One Night with a Rake

“Your father invited me to stay at Yorkingham House as his guest for a bit. Since my family is still in the country till the Season officially starts, I suppose he thought the Colton town house seems a bit large for one person to rattle around in.”

“That’s an exaggeration, isn’t it? Even if your family isn’t in residence, there are no doubt any number of servants who keep the place,” she said as she advanced to the far side of the table and squinted down at the map. “So it couldn’t be said that you were properly alone.”

“Or perhaps I’d be improperly not alone.” He arched a brow at her.

She glowered at him. What was her father thinking to invite Nathaniel Colton to stay with them? Didn’t he know what Nate had become? She’d overheard whispers about his many light dalliances. And amorous abilities most men wished they possessed.

She swept those thoughts away with a stiff mental broom. Nate’s reputed bed skills were the last thing she should contemplate.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “A man like you is never alone.”

“A man like me? Are you inferring that I’d have feminine company?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“I seem to have feminine company now, don’t I?”

He actually had the effrontery to wink at her.

“You won’t have it long,” she said with a huff. “Good day, milord.” She started toward the door. Sir Walter Scott and Zanzibar would have to wait.

“No, stay, Georgette. I apologize. I shouldn’t tease you,” he said. “But you make it so deucedly easy, you know.”

She shot him a glare that made him raise his hands in mock surrender.

“All right. You win. I promise to behave.” He turned his attention back to the outspread map, but lifted his hand in a summoning gesture. “Come. I’ve discovered something that may interest you, actually.”

She hesitated. Nathaniel’s kiss that morning wasn’t the sort of thing she could easily dismiss. She ought not to spend time with him.

Of course, it wasn’t as if that had been her first kiss. Last Christmas, Lord Roger Fishwick had stolen a kiss from her under the mistletoe at her family’s house party. Even with copious amounts of rum punch thrown into the mix and the frivolous holiday atmosphere, the kiss wasn’t very remarkable. Roger’s lips were wet and slippery, like the underside of a lily pad. The memory of his kiss certainly didn’t make her toes curl inside her shoes.

Not like her toes curled now just looking at Nathaniel Colton. She didn’t dare lower her guard with him, but his absorption with the map piqued her curiosity.

“What is it you think will interest me?”

“I believe I am the proud owner of the property across the lane from that brothel you and I exited in a hurry this morning. Take a look at this.”

Against her better judgment, she drifted back toward the table and the outspread map. “How did you come by this property if you don’t know for certain where it is?”

“I won it in a poque game at White’s.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not surprised in the slightest.”

“Don’t be so gloomy, Georgette. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not gloomy.” She wished his hair didn’t curl behind his ears in a way that made her fingers itch to smooth it down. “I’m disapproving. There’s a difference.”

“Is that another way of saying you care that I waste my time gambling?”

“It matters not a bit to me how you waste your time.”

“Then if you don’t care, stop frowning. Your face will grow like that and it’d be a shame.” He shot her a quick grin before looking back down at the map again. “It’s such a pretty face, you know.”

Was he teasing her again or did he mean it? He’d seldom been serious as a boy. Now that he was a man, it was hard to tell when to take him at his word.

“Well, your frown over my gambling aside, this was one game of chance that wasn’t wasted. Here’s the legal description of the property.” He dropped a yellowing piece of parchment on top of the map. “If I’ve interpreted this correctly, its location is here.” He pointed to a parcel on Lackaday Lane, that same narrow alley in Covent Garden where Mercy’s friend was trapped at Madam Bouchard’s House of Pleasures for Gentlemen of Quality.

“You seem inordinately enthusiastic about a property that is likely in a sad state of repair,” Georgette said.