‘I mean to return to my brother and do nothing at all. But you will have a busy day tomorrow, Mr Hendricks. I wish you to engage a flat for me while I am in London. Something simple, small. A pied-à-terre. Decoration does not matter, since my guest will not see it. I will need staff as well. Choose what is necessary from our household, or hire if you must, but I will have no gossip. They will speak not so much as a word to identify themselves to Lord Folbroke, or I will sack the lot of them. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Clearly, the actions were not understood at all. Judging by the look on his face, he found them to be incomprehensible. But he knew better than to cross her, and that was enough.
‘When that is completed, and not before, you will take a note to my husband. And you will give him no indication of my involvement in it, or I swear, Mr Hendricks, that no matter what my husband might say in the matter, you will be seeking other employment before the sun sets. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Lady Folbroke.’ There was a trace of awe in his tone. But she also recognised the relief in it, as though he understood that, if she were allowed to take the reins, they would all be the better for it. His obedience was gratifying, and yet strangely disappointing. She was tired of being surrounded by men that presented no real challenge to her authority.
But she suspected that she would be regretting the lack of just that by tomorrow evening. It made her tremble when she thought of the kiss Adrian had given her, and the kiss she had given him in return. She had never felt such power in her life and yet utterly in the thrall of another. The man she’d kissed had wanted to be seduced by her as much as he’d wanted to take her. And, for a moment, she had wanted the same.
Tomorrow, on neutral ground, they would meet.
She would invite. He would accept. She would feign naïveté. He would suggest. She would protest. He would cajole. She would be persuaded. The conclusion might be inevitable, but for a time there would be a battle of wits and wills leading to both a complete surrender and an equally complete victory. If handled correctly, there would be ecstasy, satisfaction and sweet, sweet revenge.
Across from her in the carriage, Hendricks looked quite unsettled by the latest turn of events. But with regard to Adrian, Emily had never felt so confident in her life. As soon as all things were in place, she would go about the tawdry, ridiculous and strangely exhilarating process of ensnaring her own husband.
Chapter Six
Adrian Longesley awoke the next day with the same nagging, drunkard’s headache he had grown accustomed to. A morning would come soon enough when he did not wake at all. In comparison, it would be a welcome relief. But today, he was alive and conscious, and feeling the worse for a lump on his forehead. If he had been coshed from behind, he’d have felt better about the injury. But to be hit from the front with a blow that had seemed to come from nowhere proved how far his abilities had diminished. He sighed into the pillow, waiting for the rolling of the room to subside enough so that he might sit up.
The nausea would probably be worse if he could see the movement. Even without that particular sense, he was sure that he could feel the rocking, as though he were making a rough crossing to France. But he was still in his own bedchamber, and could smell a breakfast he had no appetite for.
The woman.
He had been a drunken fool to think he’d be lucky enough to rescue her twice from the place he’d found her. If his carelessness had allowed her to fall into the hands of the men there.
He lurched upright in panic, and then regretted it, before remembering the end of the evening. He had a hazy recollection of her voice on the carriage ride home, along with that of Hendricks. His man must have found him in time, saved the girl and helped them to return here.
It pained him further that he had needed rescuing at all. If he had fallen to a place where he could no longer care for himself and put innocents around him at risk, then it might be time to seek a sudden end to things and stop dawdling about, waiting for nature to take its course. But last night had not been the time. The strange woman had needed him, if only for a short time. If the intervention of Hendricks had assured her safety, then his own pride could survive the damage of needing assistance.
She had claimed to be well bred, and gentle, though she certainly hadn’t been wise. A wise woman would never come to such a place. Maybe what she’d said was true, and she’d actually been looking for her husband. Sad for her, if that was the sort of place she might find him. While Adrian shared it, it was nothing to be proud of. But at least he had the small comfort of knowing that his wife had never seen it.
The stranger had refused him, when they’d been alone. So it was not a visit brought on by a secret desire to slum for the novelty of it. And then she had followed him back to his house. She had been in this very bedchamber, though not for long enough. He remembered her assurances that he had fought well for her, and the tiniest hint of awe in her sceptical voice.
She had been tart in manner and in kisses. And scent as well, for he could swear that the smell of lemons still clung to his skin where she had touched him. What a woman she had been. If his memory could be trusted, he’d have been happy to have more of her company. The round, soft way she had felt in his lap, and the tingling friction of her tongue in his mouth. The pleasant weight of her breasts brushing his arm as she bent over his bed. And a kiss that hinted of more to come.
He laughed. Another meeting was unlikely, and perhaps impossible. She had promised, of course, to get him to release her hand. But she had not given him name or direction and had called him rough company. He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. She was probably right.
His valet must have heard him stirring, for Adrian could hear his entrance, and smell the morning cup of tea that he put on the bedside table and the soap that he carried as he went to the basin to prepare the water for washing and shaving. There was another set of footsteps, the scrape of curtain rings, and the sudden bright blur as the sun streamed into his bedroom. ‘Hendricks,’ he said, ‘you are a beast. The least you could do is allow a man to adjust slowly to the morning.’
‘Afternoon, my lord,’ Hendricks responded politely. ‘It is almost one o’clock.’
‘And all the same to me. You know the hour I came home, and the condition I was in, for you brought me.’ A thought occurred to him. ‘And how did you come to do that? When I left here, I was alone.’
There was an awkward shifting of weight and clearing of throat. ‘I came searching for you, my lord. While you were out, Lady Folbroke visited to inform you that she is staying in London. She was quite insistent to know your whereabouts. And I thought it best …’
‘I see.’ His wife had come to town before. And each time he had managed to avoid her. But it was damned awkward, after the events of last night, to think her so close. He reached for the miniature of Emily in its usual evening resting place on the table by the bed, fingering it idly.
‘You had been out for some time, already,’ Hendricks continued. ‘The servants were concerned.’
The voice in Adrian’s head snapped that it was no one’s business what he did with his time. Their concern was nothing more than thinly veiled pity, and the suspicion that he could not be trusted to take care of himself. He held his temper. If one had been carried insensible out of a gin mill, it hardly gave one the right to argue that one was fine on one’s own.
Instead, he said, ‘Thank them for their concern, and thank you as well for your timely intervention. It was appreciated. I will try to be more careful in the future.’ In truth, he would be nothing of the kind. But there was no point in rubbing the man’s nose in the fact.
And then, to make it appear an afterthought, he came back to the matter that concerned him most. ‘But you said Emily is in town. Did you enquire as to the reason for the visit?’
‘She did not say, my lord.’ There was a nervous rustling of the papers in Hendricks’s hands.
‘You