felt awkward, as if her arms were too long and her feet too big. Lord Avery, on the other hand, made her feel...womanly. Even attractive. She could not help beaming back at him. ‘Thank you.’ She took a sip of her own tea.
A friendly silence descended. It felt companionable. As if they had known each other for years.
She put down her cup. ‘I wanted to ask you...’
He tilted his head in question. ‘What?’
‘I am not sure how to put it?’
‘Ask away.’
‘Do you also earn money from the ladies you escort to my shop?’ The words were too blunt when she had meant to be tactful.
He stiffened. ‘What makes you ask?’ he said. His voice was calm, but his eyes were cold. Shuttered.
She repressed a shiver. Oh, dear, why hadn’t she left well enough alone. ‘Something Mrs Baxter-Smythe said.’ Dash it, she should never have opened her mouth. She had spoiled everything.
His lips thinned. ‘Mrs Baxter-Smythe is jealous because I do not count her as one of my special ladies.’
‘Ladies you escort while their husbands are out of town.’
‘Exactly.’ He put down his cup. ‘And, yes, they do pay for my services.’ He picked up his hat.
He was going to leave and she still hadn’t asked her awful question. ‘Can any lady hire your...services?’
His eyes widened, then narrowed. ‘Are you asking for yourself?’
Heat rushed all the way up her face to her hairline, but she was not one to hide behind a lie. ‘I am.’
He put his hat down and shook his head. ‘I am not sure I fully understand what it is you are asking me. The ladies I escort are all wealthy and married. Single ladies present too many complications since I am single myself.’
She twirled her cup on its saucer. Did he think she was looking for a husband? ‘I am not seeking anything permanent, I assure you. I would prefer something...’ She frowned and set the handle of the cup at the proper angle.
‘Something?’ he prompted. His voice held a distinct chill.
She glanced up. His lips were still a thin straight line. ‘Brief,’ she blurted. In for a penny in for a pound her father always used to say. ‘One night. I am willing to pay, of course. Whatever the other ladies pay.’ She still had a little of her personal allowance for the month left over.
His eyebrow lifted. ‘Let me get this clear. You wish to pay me to bed you.’ His tone was grim.
Embarrassment rushed through her in a hot tide. Oh, why had she said anything at all? But having done so, she pressed on, her cheeks hotter than fire. ‘As you can imagine, there are particular disadvantages to being alone. I simply thought that...’ She gave an awkward laugh.
‘I do not bed my special ladies for money, Mrs Greystoke.’ His tone was as dry as dust. ‘I merely serve as their escort in their husband’s absences. And since you do not have a husband, the arrangement would not work.’
He was trying to let her down gently, to couch his rejection in kinder terms. She didn’t believe him for a moment. She had seen the looks that had passed between him and Mrs Luttrell. And Lady Fontly. She wasn’t such a fool as to think the ladies merely wanted him to take them shopping.
Resentment spurted through her and a healthy dose of disappointment. She should have known all his flirting with her was nothing but a hum. ‘You don’t have to lie, Lord Avery. You can simply say no thank you.’
‘You may, of course, think what you wish, Mrs Greystoke, but I would advise you not to listen to gossip.’ He clapped his hat on his head and strode out of her shop.
Clearly, he viewed her offer as an insult. Something in her chest shrivelled.
* * *
‘I win!’
The men around the table groaned as the young fellow opposite Avery laid down his cards and scooped up the guineas in the centre of the table. ‘Waiter, more wine here.’
Astonishment broke Avery broke free of his reverie. He glared at the rapidly disappearing gold. Money he needed for Laura and her family.
‘I’ve no luck tonight,’ one of the other men said.
Another threw his cards down in disgust. ‘I need a drink.’
The whist table broke up.
Avery stared at his hand. He should have won. His skill was legendary among London’s gamers, which was why he had been reduced to gambling in hells like this one, where he would meet men who were not aware of his reputation. Amend that, he thought bitterly. His skill had been legendary. These past few days he’d been unable to concentrate. Not only was he losing at the tables, he’d been avoiding all of his social engagements, including a request from Lady Fontly to suggest a new hairdresser. He knew just the fellow who would have put a considerable sum of money in his pockets.
And now this.
The conclusion he’d been avoiding for the past few days became unavoidable. He needed to see Mrs Greystoke and get the dashed woman out of his head. He could not stop remembering the way she had looked at him when he had refused her offer. It wasn’t the hurt in her eyes that haunted him, it was the acceptance.
She had expected his rejection.
He rose from his seat.
‘What? Giving up already?’ His opponent, Giles Formby, a young gentleman from Surrey, frowned. ‘Don’t you want a chance to recoup your losses?’
Avery shook his head. He wasn’t such a fool as that. ‘Another day.’
Craddock, the hell’s owner, sidled up to Formby. ‘You won’t beat me so easily.’
Giles’s opponents perked up.
‘If you’ll take a bit of advice from someone who knows gaming,’ Avery said to the younger man, ‘leave now, while your dibs are in tune. Come, I’ll find you a hackney outside.’
Formby hesitated, then nodded. ‘You are right. It is getting late.’
Craddock shot Avery a hard look. ‘The night’s young yet, gents.’ His smile became oily as he turned it on Formby. ‘Surely you ain’t leaving yet, young sir? Not when lady luck is looking kindly upon ye.’
The young man glanced at Avery, who raised a brow. He didn’t want to alienate Craddock, but nor did he want to leave a wet-behind-the-ears boy to the cardsharp’s tender mercies. Avery won by skill, Craddock would use any means at his disposal to relieve the young man of the money he had won.
No one who did not pay for the privilege was supposed to win in this place. Including Avery, who paid a percentage of his winnings for a place at Craddock’s tables. Avery had contributed a considerable sum of money over the past couple of months. He hoped Craddock would let him get away with leading the mark out of trouble,
