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The marquis pulled out the small gold watch that rested in his waistcoat pocket. It was nearing ten o’clock, and he had received word earlier that day advising him he would have a visit at midnight from a certain Mr. Wheeler. It was business, and he was anxious to conclude it. Better early than late, he thought. “All right, Percy, and there is something you and I must discuss. I can go over it with you on our way back to the lodgings, but I want your mind to concentrate not on the lovely Sophy but on what I will be discussing with you.”
“What can you possibly have to discuss with—”
“Come on. We’ll take leave of our hostess.” The marquis cut him off and patted him encouragingly on the shoulder.
Sassy and Sophy were standing shoulder to shoulder at the moment, and after watching these two gentlemen’s departure they exchanged glances. Much of the party’s lure had lost its enchantment for Sassy when she’d watched the marquis leave without even glancing her way. From what she could see, and because she had already begun to know Sophy’s many moods, her friend’s had darkened. Sophy, like she, was putting on a brave face for the crowd.
They each went through the motions, but only just barely, until the guests left and Sassy retired to the room the Delleson’s had provided for her overnight stay.
She pulled the covers over her head, but this didn’t help her banish his face from her mind. His handsome face, his luscious lips, were right there, and she wished they had not been interrupted by Percy.
And then she felt a sharp twinge pinch her heart when she thought of how he had left without even one backward glance for her.
* * *
The marquis sipped his brandy slowly, eyeing the tall, darkly clad man who sat before him. “You look uncomfortable,” the marquis remarked languidly.
The swarthy man removed his tri-cornered hat and opened his frieze coat before placing it in his lap. “Eh now, m’lord, shall we get right to the point of it?” His eyes roved about the elegantly furnished room.
“Just as you wish, but first, Mr. Wheeler, would you like a glass of brandy?” The marquis, still on his feet, poured a bit more in his own glass as he spoke.
“Aye, now, a ball of fire be jest the thing,” replied the dark man, smiling to display missing teeth. He reached out, eagerly received his glass, and threw it down.
The marquis’s brow went up, and he smiled as he poured the man another. He moved to take up a chair opposite Wheeler, enjoying a sip while he watched Wheeler smack his lips.
“Eh now, this be prime stuff, and I take it that jest be in your style—all things prime?” The leer in the man’s eyes made the marquis stiffen in spite of himself.
“Yes, you are correct in that assumption,” the marquis steeled himself to reply.
“And you be having need of such merchandise in the very near future?” Wheeler pursued.
“Indeed, but that would depend on the sort of merchandise you are offering. I prefer the charms of youth, although inexperience is not what I seek. To be blunt, I should like a genteel young miss, the emphasis being on young, and not afflicted with an ungenteel disease.”
“Aye, then she needn’t be virginal? Cos we can supply you with that too if ye wish it.”
“She needn’t be, but as I said, I don’t wish her to be too well used.”
“Aye, aye.” Wheeler nodded. “That’s just what I sized you up for.”
“Sized me up?” The marquis’s brow rose, as did the corner of his lip when he sneered.
“Aye, ye don’t think I came here cold, do ye? No, lord bless ye, I haven’t kept out of the Runner’s path by being such a fool. Not Tom Wheeler! I had my peepers on ye for days now. Noticed you had an eye for the ladies and what sort interested ye most.”
“I see,” said the marquis, who had known Wheeler had been following him about.
“Well now, m’lord, ye don’t like it, I can see, but needn’t be hipped over it. Fer yer safety I be careful, as well as m’own.”
“Of course, Mr. Wheeler. Now that we understand one another, when may I expect the fair charmer?”
“Friday next, m’lord, Friday next.”
“No sooner?”
“Don’t be impatient. She will be worth the wait. I’ll be bringing her meself, prompt like at seven thirty.”
The marquis got to his feet and moved towards his parlor door. Mr. Wheeler followed suit, and the marquis led him down the hallway to the front door of the small house he had leased for their stay in Bristol. Mr. Wheeler nodded a good night and walked out silently into the night.
The marquis turned and found Mr. Percival Lutterel had entered the room from a connecting door and stood in place looking shocked.
