“Not entirely. I have a rule of sorts of my own.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
“It is difficult to prove the passage of most of these tasks without the testimony of a witness, and I could quite easily lie about accomplishing them.”
She scoffed. “Your sense of honor would never permit you to lie.”
“Thank you for your expression of faith, but the stakes in this game are very high.” His tone was abruptly intense. “I will do whatever I must to win.”
His eyes darkened and his gaze bored into hers and touched her soul. The man would indeed do as he pleased, and at this moment she knew there was little she could do to stop him.
“You haven't won yet.”
“But I will.” His lighthearted manner returned. He stepped to the chair, scooped up his bundle, and tossed it at her. She caught it with ease. “You will find what you need for tonight in there.”
“For tonight?” She shook her head in confusion.
“I am about to take on another challenge, and you will be my witness.”
“I think not,” she said haughtily.
“I think so.” His voice brooked no argument. “I further think you will accompany me, when necessary, on my efforts to pass the remaining tests. And that, Hellion, is my rule.”
She considered defying him, turning and stalking out of the room, but curiosity, and the tempting idea of more time spent in his presence, plus the distinct possibility of breaking at least one rule yet again, overcame her. “Where are we going?”
“You shall see in due time. Now.” He nodded at the bundle. “That contains clothing suitable for this evening's adventure.”
“What kind of clothing?”
“Women are not permitted where we are going so you shall have to be disguised.” A grin showed in his eyes. “As a boy.”
Adventure or no adventure this was out of the question. “I will not!”
“Don't tell me you've never done this before.”
“Never!” At least, not since she'd come out in society. Oh, there had been occasions when, as a girl, the temptation to wear breeches and ride across the countryside with all the freedom allowed males but forbidden the fairer sex had proved too much. But that was a very long time ago.
“Then this is your chance.”
She looked at the loosely tied packet in her hands.
“I cannot believe the Hellion of Grosvenor Square can resist the opportunity to dress as a male and invade a purely masculine domain.”
“It does sound vaguely amusing,” she said grudgingly. No, it sounded exciting. A familiar sense of anticipation rose within her. This was exactly the kind of thing the Hellion of Grosvenor Square would do. And if she wasn't quite so daring as her reputation had led him to believe, he was right about the opportunity he'd presented her with. It was indeed an adventure.
“Of course, if you'd rather not accompany me, I shall consider that a breech of our bargain, a forfeiture on your part, and declare myself the winner.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “Very well. I'll do it.”
“I thought you would.” There was a smug note of satisfaction in his tone, the beast.
She stalked toward the doorway, struggling to hide her growing excitement. It wouldn't do for him to know she actually wanted to go with him. “I don't consider this in the spirit of the game. It's almost as if I'm assisting you. Helping the enemy. It doesn't strike me as being at all fair.”
“You said it yourself: the stakes are high. Fair is very much a matter of perspective. Everything is fair in matters of the heart and on the field of battle, Hellion.
“And this is both.”
“Tell me this, Max, why is it you're dressed like a gentleman and I look like a stable boy?”
He couldn't make out her features in the dark of the closed carriage but the tone in her voice was unmistakable. He choked back a laugh. He should have known a woman used to wearing only the finest clothing in the height of the current fashion would not take kindly to the well worn garments he had provided, although she did look adorable in the knit cap she wore to hide her hair.
“We wouldn't want to raise suspicion. No one will ever guess your true identity in those clothes.”
She muttered something he didn't quite hear, and he thought it was probably for the best.
Her distaste for her clothing was an amusing distraction but only a momentary one. His idea had seemed so clever at first, but now he wasn't at all sure of the wisdom of this venture.
It had been nearly two hours since she'd agreed to accompany him. He'd expected them to be on their way long before now, but he hadn't counted on the seemingly endless amount of time it took Pandora to don her disguise. He could only assume she'd spent as much effort complaining as she had changing.
“When are you going to tell me where we're going?” she said for the hundredth time.
“Patience, Pandora.”
The lateness of the hour was a concern. While their destination was respectable, even the most reputable establishment could grow unruly as the night wore on.
Still, while Pandora was not nearly so adventurous as she would have people believe, there'd been an unmistakable glimmer of anticipation in her eye and a note of excitement in her voice that did not bode well. Of course, he would not let her out of his sight. Should they be discovered, the damage to her reputation would be irreparable.
He'd done all he could to ensure success and anonymity. Why, even Laurie thought tonight's plan was a capital idea--going so far as to point out that Max's carriage was far too recognizable and offering to lend Max an older vehicle of his own, complete with driver.
He slanted a quick glance at Pandora. She sat staring out the window into the night, the faint glow from the gaslights in the streets outlining her lovely profile. His stomach clenched with a fresh wave of desire.
When had she become so important to him? Oh certainly, he'd decided well before their first meeting she was the perfect match. Her ridiculous tests were simply a means to an end. And lord knows he wanted her in his bed. He could indeed have ravished her to-night. Or today. Could have taken her and made her his own.
In spite of her protests, he didn't doubt she would have submitted. Didn't doubt she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Victory was there for the taking. Bargain or no bargain, she would have been forced to marry him--exactly as he wished.
When had it ceased to be enough?
She was in his thoughts day and night. In every waking moment and in every dream.
He wouldn't lose, of course. Wouldn't permit himself to fail. He'd seen what happened to men who failed on the field of battle or on the battlefields of their own lives. Men who'd let down those who depended on them, trusted them, and put their own lives, futures and fortunes in their hands. Men he'd admired, even cared for.
His jaw tightened. Nothing, not drink, not gaming, not even poverty destroyed a man as surely as failure. Destroyed lives. Destroyed families. Destroyed souls.
No, he would win. There was no other option. Pandora was a prize beyond measure. But with every passing day, the disquieting thought grew: did he want Pandora if she did not want him? Was it enough to win her hand if he did not win her heart as well?
Odd thoughts for a man who had never considered a woman's heart before. A man who'd always enjoyed the pleasures of a woman's body but never appreciated her soul or her spirit. A man who knew only the value of the prize and never the worth of the quest.
The carriage rolled to a stop.
“By the gods, Max, tell me now. What have you planned?” Exuberance rang in her voice and caught at something deep inside him.
And he knew without question her hand was no prize at all without her heart. She was right: the stakes of this game were exceedingly high.
And for him, they'd just been raised.
Chapter 10
A Dangerous Move
Max stepped out of the carriage and his heart sank. Bloody hell. This was not at all where he'd intended to g
o. He and Laurie had stumbled on this nefarious establishment during one of their infamous forays in debauchery. It could still suit those purposes, but disguised or not, he could never allow Pandora to set foot inside.
He called up to Jacobs, Laurie's driver. “Blast it all, man, there's been a mistake. This is the wrong place.”
Jacobs was getting on in years and had been in Laurie's employ for as long as Max could remember.
“Wrong face? What do ye mean, ‘wrong face’?” Jacobs said, in the irritated tone only a servant confident of the security of his position could adopt.
“Not ‘wrong face,’” Max snapped. “Wrong place.”
“Nope,” Jacob said obstinately. “This is where milord said to take ye. And here ye are.”
“Nonetheless, we are leaving.” He turned and collided with Pandora in the doorway of the vehicle.
“Get in.” He pushed her backward and onto the seat. “We're leaving.”
She craned to see around him. “Why? Where are we?”
He knew he should never have trusted Laurie. His voice was curt. “It's called the Lion and Serpent. It's a tavern of sorts. Disreputable and dangerous. This is not what I'd planned.”
“What did you plan?”
He blew a long breath. “I'd planned on taking you to the Lion's Lair. A very exclusive club, run by a committee of nine gentlemen. I thought I could, symbolically, of course, tame the lion of Nemea and defeat the nine-headed hydra in one fell swoop.”
“It's rather weak.” Her voice was thoughtful. “Not at all like encountering a real lion. But, I suppose, acceptable.”
“Bloody decent of you.”
“And you can still accomplish one test. This place has a lion in the name. Besides,” excitement sounded in her voice, “I've never been anywhere truly disreputable before.”
“And you're not about to, either.” He rapped sharply on the roof of the carriage. The vehicle started to move.
“Oh, yes I am.” She reached up and repeated his knock. The carriage stopped. “Don't be ridiculous, Max. After all, we're here now. And frankly, this is your chance to pass another test. You have a time limit, and even symbolic lions are not all that easy to come by.”
He shook his head. “This not the kind of place where a lady is safe.”
“Perhaps not, but tonight,” he could hear the grin in her voice, “I'm simply a scruffy boy.”
“Hellion--”
“Now, Max, you'll protect me. You claim to be my hero, remember?”
“Yes, well, apparently I'm also something of a fool. I cannot believe I'm considering this.” He was indeed well capable of protecting her. All he really had to do was get her in and out unscathed and he could claim another point. And they were already here.
“Max?”
“Very well.” He heaved an apprehensive sigh. “But only under the conditions that we stay no more than five minutes, you remain by my side, you do exactly as I say, and you keep your mouth shut. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“I hope I do not regret this,” he said under his breath, and reluctantly climbed out of the carriage. Before he could help her, she'd scrambled down to stand beside him.
A wooden sign overhead creaked back and forth in the slight breeze, scolding him for the foolish nature of this venture. Every muscle in his body tensed, every nerve tingled. He directed Jacobs to take the carriage around the corner to wait for them in the alley and watched the vehicle pull away in the night.
“Why did he leave?” For the first time, Pandora sounded less than confident.
“I don't want to draw undue attention to the carriage. In addition, there's a back entrance we might need to use.”
“Why might we need to use that?” she said slowly.
“One never knows in a place like this. It's wise to be prepared.” He stepped to the entry and placed his hand on the heavy wooden door. “Remember, you stay by my side. Ready?”
“Ready.” The enthusiasm she'd exhibited earlier had obviously dimmed, and he couldn't help a tiny surge of satisfaction. The Hellion of Grosvenor Square had spent years with a title she hadn't entirely earned. Tonight, she'd make up for that, even if no one but the two of them would ever know.
Perhaps they could tell their grandchildren about this adventure one day.
If they lived that long.
They stepped into the room and at once she thought it resembled everything she'd ever imagined about hell. No flames nipping at their feet, of course, but smoke hung over the place like a plague and stung her eyes. The light was dim, shadows danced on rough-hewn walls in a constant counterpoint to the din of voices and clanking tankards. The stench of tobacco smoke and the smell of cheap candles and cheaper oil lamps mingled with the odor of unwashed bodies and stale spirits. It was hell, all right, filled with obvious sinners who no doubt deserved to be here.
Max made his way past long tables to the back of the room, Pandora hard on his heels. The room was full but not overly crowded. There were a few well-dressed gentlemen here and there, apparently sampling the darker side of life, but most of the patrons were definitely not well bred. At once she was grateful for the clothing Max had provided. While there were occasional curious glances directed at him, no one seemed to give her a moment's notice. Ill-mannered, raucous laughter punctuated the general clamor. They passed one table with men disputing the play of a card and another with a crowd two deep watching the throw of dice in a game she was unfamiliar with.
She well understood Max's reluctance to bring her in here. Danger lurked in every quarter. It was a world completely foreign to her, at once crude and rather frightening.
And completely delightful.
Max found a half-vacant table and gestured for her to have a seat. She lowered herself cautiously onto a hard wooden bench. He signaled to a serving girl in some silent language she did not understand and dropped onto the bench across from her.
He leaned forward, his voice quite. “It would attract undue attention to leave without so much as a drink. However, we will slip out a few minutes after we're served.”
“As you wish.” She smiled obediently. As exciting as this adventure was, she was cognizant of the precarious nature of their presence. And as fascinating as she found their surroundings, tonight she was more than willing to abide by Max's orders. Still, as long as they remained unnoticed they would no doubt be perfectly safe. The knot of fear in her stomach eased.
Pandora adopted a noncommittal expression, as if she frequented places like this all the time, and casually glanced around. She couldn't recall seeing such an outstanding display of mankind's more colorful-looking members in one place before.
She leaned toward Max. “Do you think there are housebreakers and thieves and even murderers here?”
“No doubt,” he said glumly.
“Really?” A thrill of fear tripped up her spine.
He grimaced and drummed his fingers on the table. Was he impatient with her or the speed of the serving girl or both? He was eager to be off, but they were compelled to remain at least a few more minutes. Time Pandora could put to good use.
She surreptitiously cast her gaze at the other patrons. After all, her parents had spent their lives studying another civilization, and this world was as far from her own as the ancients were from today. The least she could do was make a few scholarly observations of her own. She was, if nothing else, her parents' daughter.
There were a few women in the room who, by appearance and demeanor, made no effort to hide their profession, but most of those here were men. Without appearing to stare, she studied them. Their ages and features varied, but they shared a commonality of class and manner. She considered their faces, rough, like wooden sculptures an artist had failed to complete or lost interest in, carved by lives of difficulty and deprivation. Their fate determined more by the ill luck of their birth than by any fault within themselves.
At once it struck her how very lucky she was to have been born who and what she was. And i
t struck her as well if one took away their fine clothes and social standing and wealth, there would be little difference between the men here at the Lion and Serpent and those who could be found at Max's Lion's Lair. The knowledge swept away any remaining fear.
“'Ere ye go, yer lordship.” The serving girl sauntered up to them, full hips undulating. Pandora could see she was hardly a girl, age and living and who knew what else was etched upon her face. She plunked a tankard down in front of them, ale splashing over the sides, and cast Pandora a dismissive glance, as if she wasn't worthy of further attention, then turned her gaze on Max.
She placed his tankard on the table with a slow, provocative movement and leaned toward him, thrusting her overlarge bosom nearly in his face. A bosom in immediate danger of escaping from an outrageously low bod-ice. Irritation stabbed Pandora and she stifled a curt comment.
“Anything else ye need, yer lordship?” Her voice was throaty and suggestive, and there was no doubt in Pandora's mind exactly what the wench had to offer. She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling.
Max's gaze lingered on the flesh presented him for a moment, far too long as far as Pandora was concerned, although she supposed he could scarcely help himself, since the ample offering no doubt obscured any other view. Max looked up at the woman and grinned. “Not tonight.”
“Or any other night,” Pandora muttered to herself.
“Name's Muriel. If ye need anything…” She was practically drooling over him. It was disgusting.
Max pulled a coin from beneath his coat and tossed it at her. She straightened to catch it, glanced at it with a look of appreciation, then propped her plump hindquarters on the edge of the table, directly in Pandora's face. She scooted down the bench a foot to avoid sure and certain suffocation.
“I ain't never seen ye in 'ere before.”
“And you ain't never going to see him in here again,” Pandora said under her breath. If she so much as touched him, Pandora would be forced to hit her over the head with the tankard.
Muriel ignored her but Max threw her a sharp glance.
The Wedding Bargain Page 10
