Just about the entire time she’d spent with her stepbrother.
In the couple months since she’d relocated from her much beloved home in the country to his townhouse in London, she’d been on edge. It had been apparent from the start that he had no intention of introducing her to London Society. When she asked him about a Season and told him she knew her stepfather had planned one for her, he laughed.
The former Lord Newton had been very different from his son. Although her stepfather had lost interest in just about everything after Amelia’s mother died, he did tell her that one day he would take her to London, find someone to sponsor her, have a come-out, find a husband and have the life she was born and raised to have.
That never happened and she was left alone. Until Randolph summoned her and she was naive enough to think it was for the purpose of honoring his father’s promises. She should have known better.
Driscoll entered the dining room with Margie and two of the security guards. Right behind him was Betsy rolling a tea cart. She placed the items on the sideboard, then pushed the cart to the corner of the room and took a seat at the table, grinning at Amelia.
Looking for a little bit of fortification before the game, Amelia walked to the sideboard and looked over at Driscoll. “Would you like tea?”
He nodded and she proceeded to pour and fix his tea precisely as he liked it since she’d seen him do it many times before. She did not offer to any of the others because they were fellow employees, not the employer as Driscoll was.
She smiled to herself. Even in such strange surroundings she still held fast to the manners she was taught by her governess and tutors. If only all she had learned had been put to its proper use.
As much as she longed for the life she had planned, right now she was grateful to have a place to sleep, food to eat, and a job that would pay her money so she could one day make her escape completely from London and far away from Randolph.
She stirred her tea until it cooled as the others filled their teacups and filled plates with the small sandwiches, biscuits and tarts the kitchen had sent up. They all engaged in conversation as they enjoyed the repast. She was fascinated at how involved in the club the employees were. Apparently, the Rose brothers were such good employers that their staff felt as though they were part of the business.
Eventually all the tea things were cleared away by Margie, and Driscoll handed her two decks of cards. “We use two, and sometimes three decks, at the table, depending on how many are playing. It keeps the dealer from having to constantly reshuffle and makes it harder for players to count cards.”
She nodded, took a deep breath, shuffled the two decks and dealt to each participant.
After a few mishaps when each player assured her she was doing fine, she fell into a rhythm. Over an hour passed before she realized it. She had a nice stack of chips—black tin circles they’d played with in place of money—which she’d gathered from those who had lost to her.
Driscoll held up his hand as she prepared to shuffle again. “I think that is enough for tonight.”
Amelia hadn’t realized how tense she’d been throughout the session until Driscoll spoke. All her muscles relaxed, and she drew in a deep breath. She glanced over at him to see his reaction to how she played.
He smiled that crooked smile that she liked so much and pushed his spectacles up on his nose. “You did a fine job tonight. I think only one more practice session and you will be ready to take over Marcus’s table.”
“Is Marcus leaving?” Betsy asked.
“No. He wants to move into a security position. It was fortunate that Miss Pence arrived when she did to replace him. It saved us from having to hire someone that we did not know.”
Of course, no one mentioned that Amelia was someone they didn’t know. Not all knew exactly how she arrived at the club, but it was known that there was a story behind her presence.
So far Amelia had remained separate from the other employees, but she hoped to change that once she began working. She did not like living and eating detached from the others. She did not want any special attention. Special attention could cause envy, which could lead to a disgruntled employee possibly uncovering her secret and selling the information to Randolph.
Slowly, all the employees rose and headed out of the dining room. Amelia checked the clock on the wall and was surprised to see it was already two o’clock in the morning.
Exhaustion hit her like a steam engine. She actually stumbled as she stood. Driscoll caught her around the waist, and she was grateful that all the employees had left. The last thing she needed, to prevent any idea of her having special privileges, was seeing Driscoll’s arm wrapped around her.
“I’m fine,” she said and moved away from him. Driscoll immediately moved his arm.
“I will walk you to your room.”
She shook her head. “No. That’s not necessary.”
“Ah, but it is. You are very tired and probably worn out from working so hard. It’s my gentlemanly duty to see you to your door.”
“Oh, for goodness sake. You make it sound as though my room is miles away and we’re courting.” She immediately felt the blush start in her center and make its way up her face. Especially when Driscoll studied her carefully, as if looking for something.
The corridor was lit by gaslight sconces on the walls. They moved from dark to light several times and Amelia’s heart went from normal to pounding by the time they reached her door. This was foolish. She had nothing to concern herself with.
They reached her door and she turned to thank him when he leaned his forearm against the door frame and towered over her. He ran his finger down her cheek. “May I kiss you goodnight, Miss Pence?”
10
Driscoll decided he must be bloody out of his mind. But it appeared his body had ignored his brain and continued to desire this woman who no one seemed to know anything about.
When Amelia hadn’t answered his request for a kiss, but hadn’t denied it either, or entered her room to shut the door in his face, Driscoll bent slowly, giving her a chance to retreat. When his lips met hers, he came alive at the pleasure of tasting her once again, feeling her warmth, inhaling the scent of lavender and Amelia.
He nudged her lips with his tongue, and she opened, cautiously at first, then used her own tongue to taste him. She pressed her body against his and moaned softly.
After almost a full minute of pleasure, Driscoll pulled away and scattered kisses along her jawline, on the soft skin under her ear. “I want you so much, Amelia. Do you have any idea what you do to me? I’m tortured with the idea of you sleeping here, so very near to my office.”
He smoothed his palms up her arms and cupped her face, turning her head to take her lips once again, going deeper, demanding surrender. With a slight moan from deep in her chest, Amelia wrapped her arms around his waist and ran her hands over his back.
Reluctantly, Driscoll pulled back and stared at her. Amelia’s face was flushed, and her eyes slowly drifted open. The only sound to be heard was the panting coming from the two of them as they attempted to regain control.
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I must go now,” he whispered as he slowly tucked a loose curl behind her ear. He could not push her any further. And he would never compromise a woman under his employ, nor would he dally with a well-bred young lady who must save her virtue for her husband.
Husband.
He took a deep breath. Until he knew more about her, her background, and what she as running from he could not go down that path. He needed to bide his time and get to know her better.
Have her trust him.
He bent and kissed the top of her head. “Good night, Amelia.” Before he could change his mind, he strode determinedly from the overwhelming temptation, down the corridor, and entered his office.
’Twas too bad he didn’t keep brandy in his office. Making a decision completely unlike him, he left the office and took the stairs to the game floor.
The noise and confusion that usually raised his spirits did nothing except encourage him in his quest for a drink.
“Good evening, Driscoll. Am I to believe you are here for a drink?” Stephen, the man serving the bar that evening grinned.
“Yes.” Driscoll ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s been one of those nights.”
Stephen poured a brandy into a snifter and set it before Driscoll. “I heard you were training the new girl who is taking over for Marcus. Was the session so difficult, then?”
Driscoll downed half the drink in one gulp. “No.” He coughed, as the brandy took his breath away. “Not at all. She is very clever, and I expect Miss Pence to be able to relieve Marcus this week.”
“That’s good. I know he’s ready to move into the security spot,” Stephen said.
They chatted for a few minutes, discussing the upcoming yearly ball and the preparations needed. Dante joined them and motioned for Stephen to pour him a drink.
“How did the training go?” his brother asked as he swirled his brandy in the snifter.
“Very well. Amelia is bright as we’ve noted before. She was a tad nervous at the start, but by the end of the session she was quite confident.”
Dante nodded. “Good. We could use her tomorrow.”
“Already?”
“Yes. Miles must travel to his home in Yorkshire for his mother’s funeral. Marcus can step into his place and Amelia can take over the vingt-et-un table.” He raised his cut crystal glass to take a sip and stopped. “Unless you think she can’t do it. I don’t want to put too much pressure on the girl.”
“I think she can do it. Perhaps I can stay close to her for a little while to offer support.”
Dante grinned as only his brother could. “Stay close to her, eh?” He finished his drink and slammed the glass down onto the bar. “Whatever you need to do.” With a smirk and a slight salute, he strolled away, chuckling.
Blasted brothers. Why did he need them?
Stephen was busy handing out complimentary drinks to members, so Driscoll sauntered over to the vingt-et-un table to watch the game for a while.
Marcus was indeed competent, and dealt the hands with ease, and a touch of boredom. It was truly time to move him into security.
With training Amelia, he hadn’t done anything with the books, so he made his way upstairs to the office. He raised the flame on the gas lamp on the wall by the door and headed to his desk.
He pulled out two ledgers and drew the stack of IOUs toward him. Most of the members arrived with enough blunt to see them through the night, but there were always those who gambled beyond what they’d brought or didn’t have enough to begin with and thought they’d make it up at the tables.
Even though he and his brothers owned a gaming club, he’d never been a gambler himself. As a young man fresh from University, he’d done his share of gambling, drinking and whoring, but soon determined there was nothing to be had for him in such a life.
What he never understood was how a man could gamble away his fortune, and in some cases, everything he owned that wasn’t entailed. As a general rule, they would usually escort a man out of the building if it looked like he was getting in way over his head. But in the end, they were running a business and that business was gambling. If a man wanted to throw his money away, he would just as easily do it at another club.
Numbers did not interest him enough tonight. Not with the picture in his mind of Amelia warm and soft and lying in a bed only a few doors away. He slammed the book shut and left the office again.
Thank heavens the night was almost over.
* * *
Amelia turned in her bed, crossed her hands over her middle, and stared at the canopy overhead. By the looks of the sun coming through the window it must have been close to noontime. Although Driscoll had left her at her door a little after two o’clock that morning, it was nearer to five before she fell asleep.
She’d spent a great deal of time tossing and turning in the bed. At first her body was simply uncomfortable. She ached in places of which she was generally unaware. Her nipples were sensitive and the area between her legs was heavy and moist.
Then once that had passed, her brain deliberated repetitively on the kiss she and Driscoll had shared at the door.
I want you so much, Amelia. Do you have any idea what you do to me? I’m tortured with the idea of you sleeping here, so very near to my office.
She shivered each time those words replayed in her head. It troubled her immensely that, had Driscoll continued his assault, she might have invited him into the bedroom.
Whatever had she been thinking?
The last thing she needed was that complication. Her life had never been in such turmoil. She needed to remember her plan. Save money. Leave London. Start a new life. Driscoll Rose had no part in that plan. She still wasn’t absolutely certain that he, or Dante, would not turn her over to Randolph had they discovered her situation.
She was amazed at how her trust in humans had shrunk since her own stepbrother had offered her up as payment for a debt. Since her contact with men had been quite limited, she had no idea if that was the way most of them behaved. Until she was sure, she intended to stick with her plan, and put Driscoll far from her mind.
And heart.
She threw off the covers and gave herself a wash in the water that was quite cold from the night before. Since Randolph had fired her companion, there had been no chocolate in the morning, no warm water to wash with, and no assistance in dressing and fixing her hair.
Those were pleasantries she might as well get used to no longer enjoying. She doubted very much if she could ever save enough, or earn enough, to employ servants.
At least she had a roof over her head and food on the table and a way to earn money. She had none of that and no way to secure it when she’d snuck out the window of Randolph’s townhouse with no more than the clothes on her back.
When she gave herself time to ponder what she’d done, it amazed her that things had worked out as well as they had.
Once she was washed and dressed, she made her way to the dining room. Both Dante and Driscoll stood as she entered. She glanced briefly at Driscoll and felt the flush rise to her face.
Dante smirked and Driscoll glared at him.
“Good morning.” Driscoll pulled out a chair for her.
“Good morning.” She nodded at Dante and Driscoll. The teapot sat on the table so she helped herself to tea.
“I have good news for you,” Driscoll said as he poured more coffee into his cup.
She smiled at him and he hesitated. “What is that?”
He cleared his throat. “You will work this evening at the vingt-et-un table.”
Amelia almost dropped her teacup. “Tonight? Do you think I’m ready?” Any desire she’d had for breakfast fled.
Driscoll reached over and covered her hand with his. “Yes. You are ready. You did a wonderful job yesterday.”
She swallowed her fear. “Why so soon?”
Dante leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “One of the security men has to take some time off for a family matter and Marcus is taking his position. So, you will be taking Marcus’s place.”
She blew out a deep breath. Well, she had no choice. They had been more than good to her. She could not let them down. “Yes. I think I will be all right.” She just wished her words were more forceful.
“Driscoll will stay close to the table for the first hour or so for moral support.” Dante stood and nodded to her. “I am off to visit a friend—”
Driscoll snorted.
“—I will see you later.”
Once Dante left, Amelia stood and put food on her plate from the sideboard. She couldn’t starve herself all day in anticipation of working that night. She sucked in a breath as she suddenly remembered something. “I don’t have a mask!”
The words came out with almost a hysterical tone. She really needed to calm herself.
“It’s
all right, Amelia, I have a few in my office that I mentioned we used for our annual ball. When you are finished eating, we can pull them out and see which one suits you.”
“Oh, yes. I remember you saying that.” She took her seat again and tried her best to smile. “I might be a tad nervous.”
Driscoll grinned. “That is understandable.”
He didn’t seem willing to speak about the kiss from the night before, so she kept silent on it and began to eat her breakfast.
Driscoll stood and pushed in his chair. “I have some work that needs to be done if I am to have the time to spend on the floor tonight.”
Amelia looked up at him. “I can help you.” She smiled and noticed again he seemed to hesitate. “If you are going to help me, it only seems fair.”
He nodded. “Yes. That is a good idea. Well, then I will see you when your breakfast is finished.”
* * *
Driscoll strode to the office and threw himself into his chair, his legs stretched out, his fingers linked, resting on his stomach. He’d pretty much convinced himself that his infatuation with Amelia was just that. An infatuation. Nothing more. Something he would soon get over.
Then one look at her this morning, one smile from her lips and he was back to where he’d started. She fascinated him. She made him smile, made his days seem better and brighter than his days had been for quite some time. He wanted her, and not just to warm his bed.
But she was an enigma. He ran his fingers through his hair. Why did no one know her? Where was her family? Didn’t anyone miss her?
He pulled out his ledgers, ready to work. Before Amelia he couldn’t concentrate on his work because of an odd lack of interest. Now he couldn’t concentrate because Miss Amelia Pence had taken over his thoughts. Hell, she’d taken over his entire being.
She arrived while he was at last busy at work.
“What can I do to help?” She stood in front of his desk, her bright smile in place, and all he wanted to do was push the papers onto the floor and pull her across the desk.
A Lady’s Trust Page 7
