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Whilst she had dressed as a boy, he’d adopted a look more suited to the tavern with stubble lining his lips and jaw, an open shirt and a jacket that seemed so at odds with the Blake she knew. The elbows were worn and the lapels slightly frayed. It was strange; she had never seen him dressed any way other than utterly elegant, with every little strand of hair and clothing perfectly in place.
“Is that jacket yours?” she could not help ask.
“Yes.”
“I thought it might belong to a servant.”
He shifted on his seat. “It’s very old.”
“Why keep it then?”
He flashed a quick smile. “For moments exactly like this.”
She doubted he ever expected to be eavesdropping on a secret rendezvous. There was another story to the jacket but his smile swiftly dropped, and he nodded in the direction of the door. Three men entered, all fairly well-dressed, with a commanding air to them. One was clearly the leader, striding ahead as though he owned the building, and the tavern keeper gestured frantically for the serving girl to bring them a drink. There was a brief conversation then the three men settled on a large table not far from the front door.
“Those are the men from the previous meeting. Did you see what they said?”
Demeter shook her head. Their backs had been to her for too long.
“Keep an eye on them.”
She nodded, keeping her hat low over her face. Their position to the right of the bar offered the perfect position for remaining concealed from Mr. Foster when he arrived but it did not help much with viewing what they said. “Y-you know, if you were not here, I would be able to sit closer.”
“Not a chance.”
She didn’t argue, especially when a brief tussle broke out nearby, sending a scrawny young man into their table, and Blake snatched the bottle to prevent it from spilling. The man pushed up from the floor, laughed and slapped the fellow who had pushed him on the back.
“I do not understand men.”
“We are easy to understand. We just want fine drink, good company and—” He clamped his lips together.
“And?”
“And I nearly forgot with whom I was speaking.” He made a motion of sewing his mouth shut. “Besides, women are much more complicated.”
“Hardly. We only want respect, candor, and...and...”
“And?”
“Pockets,” she finished.
A brow lifted. “Pockets.”
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Do you have any idea how few pockets I own?”
“It never occurred to me I must admit.” He made a subtle gesture to the men. “What are they saying now?”
Watching them for a few moments, she grimaced. “That Michael Foster is late and he’s going to be in trouble.”
“I certainly would not leave these men waiting.”
“They do seem to be trouble,” she agreed, eyeing the leader’s brawny strength and veined arms.
“And you were playing cards in their establishment,” he reminded her. “Perhaps you shall think twice now before returning.”
“It’s a quiet establishmentbecauseof those men and their reputations. I knew there would be no trouble there.”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why can you not just be a good girl?”
