AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Also, in the past two weeks their kisses had become more daring each time they were alone together. They could not seem to keep their hands off each other. He spent almost as much time thinking about Amelia as he did working on his books, which had consumed his life for years.
He knew in his heart that had she arrived in his life during a normal course of events, he would probably have proposed marriage to her by now. She was sweet, caring, smart, beautiful, and kind. She would be a wonderful wife and excellent mother. Even the rest of the staff loved her, despite the additional benefits she received.
His feelings for her went deep, but always the niggle of doubt at the secrets she guarded so closely kept him on edge. Now the missing money only gave his already skeptical brother more reason to second guess their employee’s background and intentions.
“I will speak with her. I think the questions will go easier on her if I am the inquisitor.” Driscoll winced at the term. But sitting down with her, boss to employee, to inquire about things that would embarrass them both did indeed make him feel like an interrogator.
Dante headed to the door, obviously relieved to be done with his part in it. “Let me know what you uncover.” He stepped out and came right back in. “I understand your reluctance to believe anything untoward about Amelia, but keep in mind we are running a business.”
Driscoll nodded. “I understand.”
He closed the books he’d been working on and headed down to the gaming floor. As usual, the room was packed; shouts of both distress and excitement rose above the crowd. He headed to Amelia’s table which was full, and again a few men deep stood behind the players, awaiting seats.
A sense of pride rushed through him. She had come a long way from her first night. She dealt the cards efficiently and was able to count and keep track of each player’s hands while bantering with the gamers.
Once Driscoll had made it known to the patrons that Amelia was there for the purpose of dealing cards and nothing else, and any lewd comments to her would result in the member being banned for a month, things had become much more pleasant at the vingt-et-un table.
And for Driscoll.
He had hated listening to the things said to her and came close to using his fists more than once. Leave off and say no more, she is mine, he screamed to himself more than once. The only quasi-negative thing that continued was the numerous requests from the players for her to remove her mask.
Amelia went from ignoring the appeals to flat out refusing with a curt answer. Unfortunately, it left the men placing bets on who the lovely new dealer at The Rose Room was. As far as he knew there were even bets recorded at White’s and Brooks’s gentlemen’s clubs wagering books.
Driscoll took up his place along the wall so he could view Amelia’s table clearly. All looked well, but it wasn’t the playing that disturbed him, it was the money she counted and turned in each night.
Without mentioning why he wanted to know, he’d questioned John, the banker who received the money after the club closed. To make it unknown to him who he was concerned about, he asked John to re-check all the receipts.
For three nights now John had assured him the amount of money each staff member turned in matched the numbers written, in their hand, on the paper that came with the muslin bag of money. Since John had been with them since they opened, he had no reason not to trust him.
On the other hand, he refused to believe his assessment of Amelia’s character was so far off that she would steal from those who had aided her when she had nowhere to go.
As he studied her, he realized he could not be objective about this missing money situation. He would still question her, but he knew his heart wasn’t in it.
It was otherwise engaged.
Unfortunately, with the woman who had dropped through his window on a rainy night a few weeks before giving no information about herself.
* * *
Amelia smiled as Driscoll sauntered around the room, glancing occasionally at her table. He looked quite dashing in his black trousers, silver threaded waistcoat and black jacket. His ascot, as usual, had been tied in a hurry.
He’d gone from watching her all night to only visiting once in a while. It made her feel good to know he believed her capable of handling the job. And truth be known, she looked forward to the tiny flutters that erupted in her stomach when she saw him coming down the stairs.
She was quite proud of how she’d learned to deal like a professional, and banter with the patrons. Most of all she loved being paid to do actual work. So many ladies—especially those of her class—never got the feeling of purchasing something with money they earned themselves. It was quite heady.
She’d grown comfortable and was even quite relaxed most of the night. One thing she’d been grateful for had been Driscoll putting a stop to the comments and offers for unsavory assignations from some of the men who visited her table.
However, she needed to stop seeing Driscoll as her savior, her knight in shining armor. Although they’d grown quite close, and she was thoroughly enjoying his kisses, touches and embraces, her initial plan had not changed.
For as comfortable as she had become, she could not be sequestered here for the rest of her life. Despite spending a bit of her pay on frivolous things for herself and repaying the Rose brothers for the items they had purchased for her when she first arrived, she was putting aside money to escape. Even though there had been no further talk about Randolph being allowed back into the club, she was still nervous that he would show up or Mr. Lyons would recognize her.
She’d almost had a fit of vapors when Lyons sat at her table a few nights before. He studied her for a while but didn’t seem to know her. Of course, back when her brother’s plan had been revealed to her, she’d questioned Randolph about why the man wanted her for his mistress since they’d never met. He told her Lyons had seen her from a distance one time when he was at the house for a party.
Only that one slight encounter combined with the mask, had apparently been enough to prevent him from shouting Aha, I’ve caught you! You’re mine. Bought and paid for. And then dragging her from the place.
Could she trust Driscoll to stop that from happening?
Driscoll made some rounds of the other tables and when the night grew to a close, he came back to her. He leaned on her table and made light conversation as she counted her money, wrote the amount on the piece of paper and placed it all in the money bag. He escorted her to Mr. Melrose to hand over the bag and then they made their way upstairs.
