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"Is the tavern maid here as well?"
"She's Emma, the girl I introduced you to in the sitting room. The one who stared at you with those worshipful eyes."
Aurora blanched recalling the slight, fair-haired maid she'd encountered dusting the side table, her blue eyes widening with awe as she'd dropped curtsy after awkward curtsy. "Julian, she can't be more than sixteen years old."
"Fifteen," he corrected. "Thirteen when the incident I just described took place." He caressed Aurora's cheek. "Don't look so horrified. She's fine and thoroughly intact, thanks to Gin's interference. Now I have two outstanding servants and they each have a home." Julian's thumb traced Aurora's lips, then stroked the distressed pucker between her brows. "Think how dreadful it was for me until then," he joked, trying to make her smile. "I not only had to make up my own bed, I had to tie my own cravats."
"You never wear cravats anyway," Aurora replied absently, her thoughts racing ahead, then coming to a screeching halt. "Julian—your servants, all the men and women who work here, they're all like Gin and Emma, aren't they? All victims you rescued from dire circumstances?"
"Don't make it sound like I'm such a hero, soleil. Yes, I helped them escape disagreeable situations, offered them jobs and a place to live. But my servants work damned hard for their wages." A corner of Julian's mouth lifted. "You might not believe this, but I'm not an easy man to live with. I'm also demanding as hell to work for, whether I'm here or abroad. My staff's duties are extensive and varied, including the ability to handle all types of unsavory guests who might drop in uninvited during my absence."
"That doesn't lessen the magnitude of your actions." Pride and respect surged in Aurora's chest. "You, Julian Bencroft, are a wonderful man. You might live by your own rules, but those rules are far more exemplary than all the ton's combined. Your nobility transcends a mere title." Her small jaw set, resentment flashing in her eyes. "This only proves that your father, besides being a scoundrel and a liar, was a stupid, bloody fool. I'd like to thrash him for denouncing you."
Tenderness softened Julian's features and he drew her to him, tilting back her head for a kiss. "You're arousing as hell when you're angry."
Aurora found herself smiling again. "Let's see … when I'm angry, when I'm secretive, when I'm adventurous, when I'm bold, when I'm eager, when I'm…"
"All the time, then." He silenced her with his mouth.
"'Ey, Merlin … that's gonna 'ave to wait." Gin strode in, looking not the least bit perturbed by the heated embrace he'd interrupted.
Neither was Julian, who made no move to release his wife. "Good-bye, Gin. By the way, it's time you learned to knock."
"Next time. Right now, Stone's 'ere to see ye."
This time, Julian did lift his head. "Stone? Now?"
A nod. "'E says 'e's got news."
"Good. I intended to send for him; this saves me the trouble. Tell him I'm on my way."
"No." Aurora gripped his arms. "Tell him we're on our way." She didn't back down, not even when Julian's eyes narrowed, his mouth forming the word "no."
"The matter you want to see Stone about concerns me as well." She stopped without further elaboration, given that Gin was still present—not merely present, but standing practically atop them, gaping. "Besides—" She focused her attention on Julian, tossing him a teasing grin. "—Mr. Stone and I are old friends. Why, he's seen me in the most shocking state of undress…"
"Stop." Julian chuckled, pressing his forefinger to her lips. "You're impossible. Fine. Come with me."
"I'm right beside you." Aurora glanced innocently at Gin as she passed. "Is something wrong?"
"Hmm?" The valet shook his head, his mouth snapping shut. "No, ma'am. Everything's right—and gettin' righter by the minute. In fact, I think this job's about to become so interestin', I might just have to stay sober to enjoy it."
* * *
"What's your news, Stone?" Julian stalked into the sitting room, Aurora by his side, shutting the door in their wake. "You remember my wife," he added, touching Aurora's elbow.
Stone's pupils dilated, but he merely nodded. "Yeah, good to see ye, Lady … Lady…"
"…Aurora," she supplied. Her lips twitched. "Or Mrs. Merlin will do. Whichever you feel more comfortable using."
"Oh…" He swallowed. "I guess I'll think about it and—"
"Stone." Julian recalled his colleague's attention to where it belonged. "Have you seen Macall? Is that why you're here?"
"Yeah, that's why I'm here, and no, I haven't seen him—not firsthand. I can't take the chance he'll recognize me. But I've got my ear to the ground. And from what I'm hearing, he's in a bad way, Merlin—drunk at night, roughin' people up in the streets, yellin' about how he's gonna make you pay. He disappears for hours at a time each day, probably combin' the streets lookin' for ye. And now that yer home…"
"We're going to have to finish this, Macall and I," Julian pronounced in a steely voice. "Unfortunately his timing is rotten. But that can't be helped. If he's determined to come after me now, so be it. I'm ready; I have been since you told me he was in England."
"You haven't spotted him yet, have you?"
