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With practiced efficiency, he used his discarded shirt to wipe both of them clean, and then he drew her into his arms and placed her head against his chest.
“Did that answer some of your questions?” he asked drowsily, stroking her head. “You’ll be quite sore tomorrow.”
“Does that make you proud?”
“It might.” He tilted her chin toward him. “Lovemaking gets better every time.” He bent down and kissed her lips. “I didn’t spring a fully formed rakehell from my cradle, instantly knowing everything there is to know about the ways of a man with a maid.”
Alice hadn’t considered that.
“For men there’s uncertainty as well,” he continued. “Some initial fumbling. I had to learn the right way to pleasure a woman. And that means time and practice. Lots and lots of practice. We should practice every night.”
She smiled against his chest. “I think we should... for educational purposes only, of course.”
“Of course,” he murmured.
She felt his body go slack beneath her and she snuggled closer to his warmth.
She wasn’t quite sure who’d won that round, or whether there even needed to be a winner.
Maybe this was enough, this intimate, wordless moment.
She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“Nick?”
“Mm-hm?”
“Tell me about the Yellow House.” She wanted to know more about why he’d rescued Jane.
“Thomas Coleman’s private madhouse in Bethnal Green.” His voice was soft and low but carried a hard edge. “Death house would be a more appropriate name. If my father were a pauper he could be there right now. Rotting.”
“But Jane’s not a pauper.”
“Some are paupers sent to the madhouse by their parishes who pay nine shillings per week for housing. Coleman profits from their keep. Others are conveniently declared insane and committed against their will by unscrupulous relations.”
“Yes, that’s what happened to Jane. She said her husband committed her because she was insubordinate.”
He lifted his head. “Did she tell you her full name or the name of her husband?”
“She refused. She thinks it would put us in danger.”
His head dropped back. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
“She told me that you saved her from near certain death. Her keeper hated her.”
“I’ve never been inside the asylum. They chain the patients like animals. Keep them barely alive.”
His body tensed and his voice rasped with emotion. “Alive enough to collect their rent from the parish. I don’t understand how the good churchgoing folk rest easy in their beds when they’ve relegated their fellow humans to such a hell on earth.”
“I had no idea this was happening.”
“Most people don’t. It’s all hidden away so that society doesn’t have to think about it. Some of the inmates truly are insane but the chief affliction of many of the inmates is poverty. I can only offer refuge to a select few.”
“Mr. March.” Now Alice began to understand. “Was he in the Yellow House?”
“Yes, and Bill as well. They have their oddities, that’s certain, but they should never have been committed. I have a man, Mr. Hawkins, a paid informant who is an underkeeper in the asylum. He alerts me to cases such as theirs.”
“I take it that you wouldn’t normally accept a case such as Jane’s.”
