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Somerton shook his head. “I do. But tonight I shall appear to be deeply in my cups and losing money. I need you to stop me and drag me out of the building before I accuse someone of cheating.”
“Why?”
“Just a little something I’m working on. I need to gauge a man’s reaction to my outburst,” Somerton replied lightly.
“Very well, I will help you with both favors. But remind me again why I should assist you?”
“Because I am helping you with your quest to find a bride.”
Matthew barely suppressed his laugh. The idea of a profligate scoundrel like Somerton assisting him with finding a bride seemed highly unlikely.
Chapter 7
Matthew leaned against the lamppost, again wondering why they were standing on Maddox Street at almost midnight. Nothing seemed out of place. Inside the stately houses, servants slowly snuffed out the candles, leaving darkness in their place. Except the brothel across the street. He assumed the prostitutes must have something to do with why they were here.
“So you can’t tell me why we are here?”
“I wish I knew,” Somerton muttered. “I was told to be here and stay until something happened.”
“Until what happens?” Matthew asked.
“I don’t know—something.”
“Who the devil would tell you that?”
“No one you need to know about.” The usual answer Somerton gave to anything the least bit intrusive in his life.
Matthew should be angry, but, knowing the type of work Somerton had done in the past, he decided not to press the conversation further.
“How long did you work for the Home Office?”
Somerton narrowed his eyes. “Whoever said I worked for them?”
“Just a rumor I’d heard,” Matthew said nonchalantly.
“And a rumor is all it is.”
Matthew sighed and watched several men walking out of Lady Whitely’s brothel. Everyone knew she wasn’t really a lady, but she did run the cleanest establishment in town. With a frown on his face, Somerton continued to glance over at the house.
The sound of a carriage rolling to a stop down the street drew his attention. He and Somerton watched as a groomsman opened the door and a woman wearing a hooded black cloak emerged.
“Is she involved in your business tonight?” Matthew whispered to Somerton.
“I am not certain,” he replied slowly.
The woman pulled out several packages from the nondescript carriage. The groomsman did the same until they were both struggling to walk down the dimly lit street. Something about the woman looked familiar but he couldn’t determine why. They placed the packages on the doorstep of the home next to the brothel. The servant hurried back to the carriage and returned with even more parcels.
Matthew watched as the woman arranged them by the door and turned to walk down the steps. Seeing her fully, he gasped.
“Well, now I believe we have determined our purpose here,” Somerton said with a chuckle.
“What the bloody hell is she doing over there?” he asked but didn’t wait for an answer. Racing across the street, he reached her just as she grasped the carriage door.
He swung her around to face him.
“No,” Jennette whispered. “Not here, not now! You will ruin everything.”
She clambered into the carriage and he followed. Ignoring him, she continued to glance out the window. Matthew turned and watched as the groomsman banged on the door of the house and then raced for the carriage. Just as he swung himself up, the door to the house opened, revealing a petite, blond woman.
