She sat back, blinking in confusion.
He shoved his arms into the sleeves of his shirt and groped around for the rest of his clothes, donning each piece as he came to it. ‘You are acting like cheap Haymarket-ware.’
She blinked at him, covering herself with the bed linens. ‘I do not know what that means.’
He glared at her. ‘It means lightskirt, Cyprian, dolly-mop. Shall I continue?’
Her eyebrows knitted together. ‘But that is what I am.’
He grabbed at the linens covering her and yanked them away. Before Madeleine could protest, he picked her up and dumped her into the now-tepid bath water.
‘How dare you!’ she shouted before she remembered that men did not like it if you showed them anger.
He lunged down at her face, and she drew back, fearful of the price he’d exact from her show of temper. Only an inch lay between their lips.
His voice became disturbingly low. ‘You cannot fool me, Maddy. You wanted me as much as I wanted you.’ As quickly, he strode out the room, slamming the door behind him.
Dripping with water, Madeleine burst into tears, but she did not know if it was because she had angered him or because what he’d said had been only too true.
‘Can you make it fit, Sophie?’
Madeleine stood in the centre of the bedchamber while her friend pulled on the strings of her dress. Though her hair, now in a braid down her back, remained damp, all other signs of the bath had been removed. Not from Madeleine’s mind, however, where Devlin’s angry eyes continued to haunt. She rubbed her temples.
Sophie tugged on the material of the dress. ‘It is too small, Maddy, and the seams cannot be let out.’
‘Oh, bother,’ she mumbled.
The door slammed. Footsteps sounded in the outer room. ‘Bart! Bart!’
Madeleine felt the blood drain from her face. Devlin had returned.
‘Where is everybody?’ He entered the bedchamber.
Sophie shrank back to a corner. Madeleine braced herself.
Surprisingly, he wore a grin on his face. He walked briskly over to her, lifted her off the ground, and swung her around. ‘I have a surprise for us. Where is Bart?’
‘Here I am, Dev.’ Bart appeared in the doorway, holding Linette’s hand. Linette had her thumb in her mouth.
Devlin released Madeleine. ‘We’re moving. Right now. We have to pack.’
‘Did you get us tossed out of here?’ Bart asked, his eyes narrowing.
Devlin clapped Bart on the shoulder, smiling broadly. ‘No, I’ve merely secured lodging spacious enough for the lot of us.’
Madeleine’s hands flew to her face. For all of them? What of sending them away?
‘Explain yourself, lad.’ Bart said.
‘I have procured the lease to Madame LaBelmonde’s apartments,’ Devlin responded, grinning.
‘Madame LaBelmonde?’ Madeleine raised an eyebrow.
‘Two bedchambers above stairs and two below. A parlour, dining room, and a proper kitchen.’ He placed his hands on his hips in satisfaction. ‘It should do very well.’
‘A sizeable rent, I suppose?’ Bart pursed his lips.
Devlin shook his head. ‘Not beyond our touch, once my quarterly portion is in hand.’
Bart clucked his tongue. ‘How do we pay until then?’
Devlin tossed Madeleine a broad wink before answering Bart. ‘I wagered the first month’s rent on a roll of the dice and won. My recent winnings should pay the second.’
‘You wagered the rent?’ Madeleine gasped. Visions of foolish, ruined men, their faces bleak and despairing, leaving Farley’s gaming rooms flashed through her mind. She remembered the sounds of angry words, overheard years ago outside her parents’ bedchambers.
‘Lord Devlin is a sad gamester, ma’am,’ Bart told her.
‘What else was I to do with my time but play cards?’ Devlin countered. ‘We shall go on very well, I promise.’
Madeleine wondered about more than the rent. ‘Who is Madame LaBelmonde?’
Devlin smiled at her. ‘A close neighbour.’
‘Close?’
‘Indeed. She has found a new protector. Lord Tavenish, I believe. He purchased a town house for her. She leaves her furnishings.’
‘Lord Tavenish,’ Madeleine repeated. A frequent visitor at Farley’s, Lord Tavenish had been well over fifty with sagging skin, and a sour smell. Would a town house be worth such a man?
Bart blew out a breath. ‘Well, what is done is done.’
‘Indeed.’ Devlin grinned. ‘We have not a moment to lose. There is a tenant interested in these rooms.’
‘These rooms? Already?’ Bart asked.
‘The matter is completely settled. I called upon our landlord and made an arrangement with him. If we move out today, our debt to him is forgiven.’
Little Linette let go of Bart’s hand and tottered over to Madeleine. ‘Up, Mama.’ She reached her hands up. Bart turned on his heel, muttering about setting to the task and hotheadedness. Sophie quietly crept along the wall until she, too, reached the door.
Devlin turned to Madeleine, his smile taking her breath away. She spun to face the wardrobe, gathering Devlin’s clothing to pack in the trunk.
‘You rented these accommodations to include us?’ She could not believe it. There must be some mistake.
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him again. ‘Yes, to include you. We could not get on here, all of us, in this small space.’
She dipped her head, hiding her face from him. ‘You are not obliged to house us.’
He tilted her face to him, his fingers under the soft skin of her chin. ‘I am obliged.’
Not that he understood it, but Devlin felt keenly responsible for them. What would happen to them otherwise?
She shook her head.
He held her gaze. ‘As you have said, you have nowhere else to go.’
She cast down her eyes.
‘Madeleine, you are no prisoner here, if you wish to go.’
Her glance flew back to him. ‘I do not wish to leave. You are correct. There is no place for me.’ Her
