“The manner in which the sisters were watching me, I think they believe me to be up to no good,” Finn said.
“Are you?” she asked.
He hitched up a corner of his mouth. She’d never seen him ride a horse. He rode one well, with confidence, but then he’d never been lacking in that regard. “Would you be disappointed if I were?”
She was disappointed in herself because she wouldn’t be. But she held her silence on that matter. No point in confirming what he no doubt already suspected. “How did you manage to keep Sophie all these years, while you were in prison?” she asked.
“When I was arrested, Aiden came to see me. Actually, all my brothers did, but Aiden was the first, so I asked him to take Sophie from Mick’s pen and see to her for me. I was afraid your father knew she was alive, might discern where I was keeping her.”
She furrowed her brow. “I wonder where my father came up with the notion you’d stolen her. I never told Miriam—I never told anyone—she was alive.”
“I’m not certain he did know. He just claimed I stole his horse, didn’t give specifics. He didn’t need any proof. He was an earl. They took him at his word.”
She was horrified by the notion that her father would wield such power so unjustly. “His actions disgust me. I know you don’t want me to continue to apologize, but my family owes you so much. My father treated you shabbily, and I had no idea. If he were still alive, I’d not be able to bear looking at him.”
“Let’s talk about something more pleasant.”
She couldn’t blame him for wanting to move on. “I’ll be rescuing two more children tonight if the woman comes through on her promise to meet me. Although as I mentioned last night, I must find a source of income rather quickly. I’ve been using the money I received from selling my wedding gown and jewelry to purchase children. It’s almost gone.”
“You might do better to place the ads yourself, to be a baby farmer. Then you’d acquire the children right off. Or at least some of them.”
She looked over at him, not at all surprised to find his gaze focused on her. “That’s brilliant, Finn. I hadn’t thought of that. An advert would no doubt be less costly than what I’ve been paying these women, and the children would be brought to me directly.”
He shrugged. “I was a thief in my youth, for a while anyway. Considering all the angles is one of my strong suits. Although you’re likely to discover some of these children belong to people you know. How would you feel about that?”
“I won’t judge them. I can assure them their children will be well cared for. Hopefully they’ll find some comfort in that.”
“And when the sisters run out of beds?”
With a sigh, she rolled her eyes. “I’m working on it.” With the freedom that she’d gained this morning, opportunities opened. She just needed to sit down and explore all the possibilities. Perhaps she could find people—some among the nobility—willing to support her cause.
“Here we are,” he said suddenly. He brought them to a halt in front of a large brick building that had three rows of windows. She’d paid very little attention to the path they’d taken, wasn’t quite certain where they were. He dismounted, walked over to her, and placed his large hands on her small waist, and she fought against welcoming the familiarity of it as he lowered her to the ground. Afterward he tethered both horses to a post and flipped a coin to an eager lad. “Keep watch on them.”
“Aye, guv.”
Then he led her toward the steps. “What is this place?” she asked.
“The Elysium Club.” He said it as though the name explained it all.
“I’m afraid I must beg ignorance as I’ve never heard of it. Is it a gaming hell?”
“It is.” He leaned toward her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “For women.”
Inserting a key into the lock, he led Vivi inside. The mornings were the quietest and his favorite time of the day, when possibilities loomed before him. In the hush of inactivity, all dreams appeared obtainable.
They entered a small lobby where people could leave their cloaks and coats with a young woman who would hang them in the tiny room behind her until the guests were ready to leave. Then they walked into the main room. All the gas lamps were alight, bathing the room in a golden glow. She gasped, which delighted him beyond all measure.
“So this is what a gaming hell looks like,” she said in awe. “Is this your brother’s?”
“It’s mine.”
She spun around, surprise and awe momentarily returning the lost years to her features, reminding him of the girl she’d once been. “But I thought you worked at Aiden’s club.”
“I do, although not as often since I’ve begun managing this place.”
Slowly she took in the surroundings, and he wondered if she saw the same potential he did. “It’s incredible, Finn. What’s the purpose of the various tables?”
“We have faro, roulette, dice games, and naturally card games. We even have a book over here similar to the one at White’s where ladies can wager on anything they choose.”
She flipped through the pages. “They’re blank. Have you not yet opened?”
“We have.” He shrugged. “We just don’t have many customers yet.”
“Did you announce it in the Times?” She picked up a pair of dice and rolled them along the table.
“No, I want to keep the club more exclusive. And that’s where you come in.”
She swung around and stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“You can’t get into a gentlemen’s club without someone vouching for you.” He bobbed his head to the side. “Except for Aiden’s, of course. Show enough blunt and he welcomes you with open arms. I want you to help me determine who to invite. I’ll pay you for the service.”
“This club is for the ladies of the nobility?”
“It is. As well as some commoners whose husbands are well-off. What do you ladies do when your gents are out for the evening?”
“We embroider.” Turning on her heel, she began wending her way between tables. “Why call it the Elysium Club?”
“Aiden named his club for the three-headed hound that guards Hades. I thought to name mine for the heavens where the gods lived. I want the ladies to feel like goddesses.”
She ran her fingers over the green baize of a card table, and he remembered how it had felt to have her fingers running over his chest, thought about how badly he wanted them skimming over his skin now.
“There are two sorts who might seek refuge here.” She faced him. “Have no doubt about it, they are seeking refuge. One sort will be the outgoing girls, the bold ones, the ones gentlemen tend to discount as being unbiddable. The other will be the shy girls. Both groups sit at the balls, bored beyond reason, feeling . . . less than. Judged, although for entirely opposite reasons.”
“You say that as though you understand them, as though you’ve experienced it. I’ve seen you at a ball—you’re not a wallflower and you certainly never gave the impression of being unbiddable.”
“I changed a bit after that masquerade ball. I had to force myself to be enthusiastic about things and found myself not really being part of either group. I’d ridiculed them before, came to know them better afterward.”
After she’d thought he’d abandoned her. Pity her father was dead. Finn had changed as well. The earl no longer would have had the power to intimidate him, which he’d have learned when Finn planted his fist in his face.
“But those are the ladies you’ll want to invite. At least in the beginning.” Looking up, she released a sigh of wonder. “You had clouds painted on the ceiling. It’s beautiful. That must have cost you a fortune.”
“I’m giving the painter’s wife a lifetime membership in the club. He’ll appreciate a few nights of peace or going out with his mates to their club.”
“A clever way to keep your funds on hand.”
“I had a lot of time to determine how best to go about making this place what I envisioned it could b
e.” He’d begun his planning while in prison and had been forced to keep it all in his head, because they wouldn’t provide him with paper to work it out. “I have a dining room, a taproom, but it’s still missing something.”
“A ballroom,” she replied without hesitation.
“Women like to dance with themselves, do they?”
“Remember, you’ll begin by having wallflowers as members, and they seldom get to dance, which is a mainstay of being a wallflower. But if you were to hire men whose job it was to dance with them—”
“That sounds terribly wicked, Miss Kent.”
“Women have fantasies, too. They want to be desired. Very few are, really. They’re courted for what they’ll bring to the marriage.”
“What were you bringing to Thornley?” He hated that he’d asked, that although he knew the man was madly in love with Gillie, he couldn’t seem to move past the notion that at one time he’d planned to marry Vivi.
“Land.” Her answer was sharp and succinct. “It was lunacy, Finn. When I was born, our fathers agreed we’d marry because there is a small patch of land his father wanted. And it was much less bother for my father to sign a contract than to go through the process of interviewing young swains and ensuring I had a good match.”
“You didn’t love him at all?”
“I cared for him. He was a friend. But I never loved him as I once loved you.”
He didn’t miss the fact she was specifically stating she’d loved him in the past, not now. “What do you feel for me now?”
“Sadness because so very much was stolen from us, so much that we can never regain. Guilt. Because of me your life was ruined.”
He was hardly aware of taking the strides that brought him to her. He cupped her cheek, not quite as round as it had been the last time he’d held it. She was thinner, not scrawny, but not as robust as she’d been at seventeen. He looked deeply into those green eyes that had haunted him for so long. “Not because of you. Never because of you.”
Then he lowered his mouth to hers, and it felt as though after eight long years he’d finally come home.
It was madness to welcome the kiss but welcome his kiss she did. She’d gone years without feeling anything, without truly feeling at all, until she’d run from the church and embraced her mission of rescuing children. As fraught with risk as the endeavor was turning out to be, she felt a measure of excitement and anticipation bursting through her chest each time she received a letter from a woman stating she was willing to meet. The exhilaration would grow as she wandered the streets toward the designated meeting place; the satisfaction was immense when she finally had the children in hand. But everything she felt during all of those moments paled when compared with the elation rushing through her now, causing her heart to beat with wild abandon, her skin to tingle, her toes to curl.
She didn’t want to care for this man, wanted to leave the past behind, wanted to leave him behind because the guilt she felt where he was concerned was overwhelming. And yet as she tasted him again after a long fast, as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her in close to his body until she was pressed flat against him, she felt nearly whole when for so long she’d been shattered and broken.
She wanted to weep for the joy of it . . . and the terror. To risk seeing the disgust on his face if he learned all of the truth—
He wouldn’t continue to sweep his tongue over hers, to groan low, to hold her tighter. He would fling her away, condemn her to the life of isolation she deserved. He would discover that at her core she was a coward. When it had mattered most, she’d retreated in fear and shame. When the courage had finally begun to leak back into her, she’d been punished mercilessly until the cowardice returned. Unlike him, she still struggled to remain strong, to not retreat. With him, she was on shaky ground, contemplating that perhaps sins could be forgiven, that she deserved happiness.
A part of her, a wicked part of her, could not help but think that of all the places in England she could have gone, she’d come here because there had been a chance she might see him again—in passing, if nothing else. She’d longed to simply catch a glimpse of him, to know he was well. Now, that didn’t seem enough. Suddenly she wanted more, wanted what she could not have, what she did not deserve.
Drawing back, he trailed his fingers along the inside seam of her cheek. “You taste the same.”
“You taste darker, richer.” More masculine, more mature, more man. Simply more. How did she explain that without sounding like a complete ninny? Eight years ago, she’d thought them grown up. Only now did she realize they’d truly been just children. She didn’t know if they’d have been able to survive all the challenges that would have awaited them. She stepped back, needing the distance between them, and watched with regret as he slowly lowered his hand, as a sadness plunged into the depths of his eyes. “Yes, well.” Needing to get herself on firmer emotional ground, she glanced around. “It’s truly remarkable. I think you’re going to do very well here.”
“I want you to be my partner.”
She stared at him as though he were mad. Perhaps he was. She had knowledge he needed, but it was more than that. He wanted the opportunity to get to know her again and following her around on her midnight excursions wasn’t conducive to that happening. And he wasn’t confident he could convince her to go on a series of outings with him.
Finally, she blinked, shook her head, and released a quick burst of laughter. “You jest, surely.”
“I’ve never been more serious. You know who I should invite. You know how to get word to them. You know what would bring them pleasure, what would cause them to return. I want to show you something else.” He took her hand, grateful she didn’t fling his aside, but she was probably in too much of a shock to do so. He escorted her back into the foyer and toward a small alcove. Inside was a set of stairs. He led the way up and into a long corridor. Along one side of it were several doors. The other side was adorned with a railing and looked out over the gaming floor. “The offices,” he explained, before directing her to one in the center and pushing the door open. “Mine.”
He stepped inside, not surprised that she followed. The room was huge with an enormous desk set before the windows. Since he’d been released from prison, he’d been unable to abide small, cramped quarters of any sort. “There’s room here for another desk, so you would have a place to work.”
She wandered over to the bookshelf that lined one wall. He had an assortment of books. Some on management, most simply to serve as an escape. Soon, he expected to store his ledgers there. Presently, the first of what he hoped would be many sat on his desk.
“I’ll be issuing invitations to people you know. If you have concerns, don’t want them to know you’re involved in the enterprise, there is a way in from the rear of the building, from the alley. No one would ever see you or know you were here. You’d never have to go out on the floor unless you wanted to.”
Shaking her head, she faced him. “I can give you a list of names—”
“I want more than that. I want your expertise. If something isn’t working, I’ll need you to tell me why, what the ladies find objectionable. I’ll make you an equal partner. Fifty percent of the profits.”
“Finn, no. I’m not deserving of that.”
“You told me you needed employment. I’m offering it to you. And something else.” He indicated they were going back into the hallway. She stepped out of the room, and he followed. “There are living quarters at each end of the hallway.”
She tagged along behind him as he walked to the last door, opened it, and allowed her to go in first. The room opened into a large parlor, presently scantily furnished with only a sofa and low table. “It still needs some furnishings.”
He leaned against the wall and watched as she walked to the windows and glanced out on the street in front of the building. The other quarters looked out over the mews.
She wandered into the bedchamber, but he kept himself rooted where he was. There was a large be
d in that room, and he imagined her spread out over it, her eyes and body inviting him to join her. His cock reacted with a vengeance, and he began doing sums, anticipating profits.
Finally, she appeared and approached him, her head angled as though she were giving serious thought to something. “These are your lodgings. They smell of you. Leather, horses, earth. Rich and dark.”
“Presently they are mine, but they would become yours. They have a more pleasing view, certainly better than the one you presently have. And you wouldn’t be sharing these quarters with a steam engine. I’ve no idea how you manage to sleep through her racket. You could still teach the children in the mornings, if you wished, but you wouldn’t have to scrub floors for lodgings or meals. Here, you’d have that freedom you craved. You could do whatever you wanted.”
“You’re being awfully generous, Finn. Why?”
“Your Sophie played a large part in my acquiring this place.” He told her about the lord who’d made him an offer. “It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t begged me to save her. So you see, Vivi, you are entitled to a part of this place.”
“I’m glad something good came of your taking care of Sophie, but I fear you’re giving me too much credit.”
He also wanted a chance to get to know her again. “Four of my siblings have successful businesses. I’m a bit behind. I want to get things up to snuff and quickly. I think you can help me do that. Working here won’t interfere with your personal desire to help children. As a partner, you would tend to business whenever it pleases you to do so. Although since your income will be based on profit, I can’t imagine you slacking off.”
She nodded, glanced around, brought her gaze back to his. “Thirty percent.”
He stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“My portion. Thirty percent.”
He laughed. “I’ve never known anyone to bargain for less favorable terms.”
“I don’t deserve fifty percent. It was your idea and you’ve already invested a good bit in it. We’ll set up a payment schedule until I’ve reimbursed you half of what you’ve already put into the place. And I’ll take the other rooms.”
The Scoundrel in Her Bed (Sins for All Seasons #3) Page 18
