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“Mr. Wilson.” Her clenched teeth muffled the words. “I believe you know where the door is. Please see yourself through it. And don’t bother returning.”
His square, fleshy face turned a rather gorgeous shade of purple as he struggled to speak, his mouth opening and closing several times before he found his tongue. “If your husband knew—”
“If my husband knew you’d called his wife a harlot, I assure you he’d teach you a lesson in manners. And that strange gentleman you mentioned is a friend of Mr. Hamilton’s, so I’d suggest you leave before he happens along and finds you insulting me.”
Gulliver Wilson’s eyes flicked briefly to the door, giving her a thrill of satisfaction. Those eyes were decidedly narrower when they returned to her. “You will not find the people of Hull quite as exotic as the residents of India. We expect our women to comport themselves with dignity.”
Fists clenched into tight balls, Kate tried to subdue her rage. She’d lived far too long with people telling her how to behave. She’d not do so again. “You are not in a position to ‘expect’ anything at all from me.” One more breath and she was slightly calmer. “And your tobacco is inferior and overpriced.”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head at that. “Regardless, as a respected member of this community it is my duty to warn you that your indiscretions will not be taken lightly.”
“Mr. Wilson, I grow weary of your insults.”
“Doxy,” he spat.
“Leave my shop now! And never return.”
Instead of leaving, he stepped closer. “James Fost is a friend of mine, madam, and you have treated him abominably.”
That took her aback. This was about Mr. Fost? Gulliver Wilson was trying to leverage his threats into a favor for a friend? She could understand that motivation, and she made herself relax.
“Mr. Fost and I have reached a peaceable agreement. Your threats are unnecessary.”
“You insulted him!” he countered.
“As you have insulted me, Mr. Wilson?”
His piglike eyes glowed with arrogant dislike, but he had stupidly revealed his hand to her. Kate retrieved her pen and bent back to her ledger as if her next words meant nothing to her. “If I hear one hint of one word that you have spread about my marriage or my friendships, I shall cut all ties to your Mr. Fost. And I shall explain to him why I’ve done so.”
Silence met her words. She scratched a few figures onto the paper.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he finally sputtered.
“I certainly would. And . . .” Kate remembered a tiny snippet of gossip she’d heard from Lucy. “I shall also make sure to pass on the rumors that your brother is in debtor’s prison because you were heartless enough to call in his debts.”
She looked up with the sweetest smile she could muster. Mr. Wilson had turned purple again.
“And that you have offered his wife a way to earn the money to release him. Isn’t that the tale, Mr. Wilson?”
“You . . . you . . .”
“Good day to you, sir,” she said. Miraculously, he turned on his heel and he went.
She looked back at her numbers and smiled. She had reason to. One of the most prominent households in town had begun to use her after bringing their coffee straight from London for the past ten years. And she’d recently begun receiving orders from country estates up the river Hull. Word was spreading.
She should have been elated. She was only mildly pleased. A few weeks ago, this measure of progress would have sustained her, comforted her. Not anymore. Now she had Aidan and tonight to think of. Tonight, which was so much of a risk, but she would take it.
Emotion surged through her, hot and icy. “I want him,” she murmured, just to feel the words on her tongue. “Again.” They felt awkward and foreign but left behind a tingling touch on her mouth.
She was surprised at how easy it had been. Granted, she’d had no experience as a girl, but youth and love had given her the advantage of unselfconsciousness. She’d simply thrown her body into him and assumed he could only find pleasure in that. He had. They both had.
But this time had been so very different. It had been a wonder of pleasures. Had it been different for him as well? She spent the next hour waiting on customers, sweeping the floors, and reliving their lovemaking a hundred times.
Every time the door swung open, her breath froze in her throat. And she laughed at herself each time it wasn’t Aidan.
But she didn’t laugh when the door opened to admit a stranger. Kate looked up from her table to see a tall, wiry man, dressed in a thick wool coat and a fur cap, as if he were traveling to Greenland instead of Hull. His face looked painfully thin in comparison to the width of the thick brown fur, and his nose was a knife blade of sharp bone.
He stomped his snowy boots on her floor. In that instant, she knew she did not like him.
