Lydia shifted on his body and moaned. His blood immediately flowed south to cause an instant erection. Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice. He’d finally admitted to himself at the blasted ball that his interest in keeping Lydia safe had very little to do with the assignment and a great deal to do with his growing feelings for her.
Each time she smiled at the Ambassador, or even any other man, he had the urge to march over there, grab her by the arm and announce to all and sundry that she was his. He could only imagine how well that would have gone over with his independent Lydia. She most likely would have broken his nose.
She moaned once again, and he reached down to kiss her forehead. “Does that feel better?”
“Oh. Yes. Definitely yes. You do such a good job of rubbing.”
He nearly swallowed his tongue. “I would love to show you what a good job of rubbing I could do. It would bring you great pleasure.”
“Oh?” She shifted a bit to look up at him. “What do you mean?”
“Actually, sweeting, it would involve the removal of clothing and take place somewhere that would not roll up to the front of your house.”
She shifted so she was lying across his lap. “I think I know what you mean.”
“Of course you do. You are an intelligent woman.”
They stared at each other, the gas lights from the street illuminating their faces, then throwing them into darkness as they moved down the street. Dante pulled the curtain on both sides of the carriage closed.
“What are you doing?”
Instead of answering her, he lowered his head and took her mouth with all the possession he’d been fighting all evening. He nudged her lips with his tongue, and she opened to him.
Sweet. Moist. Warm. She tasted like champagne and something sweet. She joined him in the duel and they savored each other’s mouths. He shifted her once again and moved his hand up to cup her breast. His thumb slid back and forth over her nipple, which was begging for release.
Always the gentleman, he complied by loosening the back of her gown and pulled at the shoulders until her breasts were revealed, plump and firm above her stays. He leaned down and kissed the quivering flesh, and then with a flick of his tongue slid over the already aroused nipple.
Lydia grabbed his arm. “Oh, my. That feels good.”
Years of practice had him untying the front of her stays in an instant and opening the sides to view her beauty. He drew back and sucked in a breath, wishing he hadn’t closed the curtains. “You are beautiful, Lydia.” He took one of her breasts in his mouth and suckled.
Not one to be shy, she reached between them and rubbed her palm over his cock. “Did I do this to you?”
“Oh, yes.” If she kept that up he would end up plunging into her and taking her innocence right there in the carriage. While moving.
His eyes jerked open at that thought. The carriage was no longer moving, and he could feel the driver jump from the seat.
“Lydia, love. Quickly, up.”
“What?” Her eyes were glazed as she didn’t seem able to focus.
He reached for the door handle just as the driver arrived. “Just give us a moment, John. Miss Sanford is feeling a bit lightheaded.”
“Yes, Mr. Rose.”
“You may return to your seat. We will be out in a minute.”
That was definitely a snort he heard coming from John. Hopefully Lydia hadn’t heard it. He glanced over at her, and she appeared confused. He quickly tied her stays as best he could, spun her around on the seat and fastened the back of her gown.
“There, sweeting. You look somewhat presentable.”
She reached up to her head. “My hair? Is it a mess?”
He tucked the loosened curls behind her ears and attempted to pat down the rest of it, to at least make it look a little bit better. “It’s fine. Come, let’s go.”
He exited the carriage and turned to take her hand. “How is your headache?”
“Gone, I think.”
They made their way up the steps and the front door immediately opened. Hopefully Lord Sterling would not be about to see his daughter arrive home in her disheveled state.
The butler bowed. “Good evening, Miss Sanford, Mr. Rose.”
Lydia turned to him, still appearing a bit dazed. “Would you care for a drink, Mr. Rose?”
Wanting her to retire to her bedchamber before anyone could take a good look at her, he declined. “I will see you tomorrow for the musicale?”
“No need. The Ambassador mentioned this evening that he would not be attending the musicale tomorrow, but he would be here Thursday to escort me to the theater.”
Remembering that dreaded theater outing, he scowled. “And I will be there as well.”
“Inconspicuous, I hope,” she said.
“You will never know I’m there.”
They had stepped inside to get out of the evening air, but thankfully her father had not made an appearance, and the well-trained butler had disappeared.
“You best retire before anyone sees you.”
Her eyes grew wide and she patted her hair again. “Do I look that bad?”
“You look beautiful.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, and had to force himself to stop.
“Will you work at your club tomorrow since there’s no reason to attend the musicale?”
“Yes. Driscoll could always use a break.”
Lydia gave a curt nod. “Excellent. What time will you pick me up?”
Dante groaned. Another night fighting with himself to keep his hands off Miss Sanford’s delectable body. “I don’t suppose you will accept a night off to do things that young ladies do when they have a night off?”
She grinned and shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. And you know your brother could use the help with the books.”
That, unfortunately was true since the investigation was taking longer than he’d anticipated. “Very well. I will arrive around eight tomorrow evening.”
Lydia and Dante hustled from the carriage to the back door of the Rose Room. It amused her how familiar the club was beginning to feel to her. They immediately went their separate ways. Dante to the gaming floor and Lydia to the staff dining room.
While Dante had told her that she was free to use the dining room on the office floor as he and Driscoll did, when she was not with one of them, she felt more comfortable among those who worked at the club. Which was a surprise to her since she’d never associated with working class people before.
Even though Driscoll and Dante were by definition working men, they still had the aura of the Beau Monde about them due to their connection to the Earl of Huntington.
She’d passed up dinner at home since Father was away for the evening and rather than eat alone, she decided to wait until she got to the club.
“Hello, Miss Sanford. It’s always nice to see you.” Mr. Fallen, one of the security guards greeted her as she entered the room. The sideboard was filled with dishes, the scent wafting through the air, reminding her how hungry she was since she’d skipped tea earlier.
“It is very nice to see you as well, Mr. Fallen. How is the little one doing?” The last time she’d worked he’d told her his young son was suffering from some sort of an ague.
“Much better, thank you. Oftentimes the little ones recover quite quickly.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” She walked to the sideboard and eyed the array of food. Whitefish in some sort of a delicious smelling sauce, along with roasted beef, root vegetables in another sauce, two different potato offerings and an entire section devoted to pies, tarts, and biscuits were laid out in an enticing manner.
They ate well at the Rose Room.
Lydia was just finishing her coffee that had washed down a delicious slice of Charlotte Russe, when Dante entered the room.
“What brings you down here with us lowly ones?” Mr. Fallen asked.
“I know what brings him here,” Sally, one of the maids said. “Mr. Rose has a fancy for Miss Sanford.�
�
Gertrude, another maid, laughed out loud as she stood. “Our Mr. Rose? Never. He wouldn’t give up all his ladies for only one. No. I don’t believe it.”
Lydia felt her face growing red. Dante smiled at the women—his natural response to anything female Lydia had noticed, and then sat next to her. He waved in their direction. “Off with you. There is work to be done.”
Once they left the room he said, “It seems the reason the Ambassador gave up his night at the musicale was to have an evening of gaming here at the Rose Room.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. He sent word that he would like his usual chair at the vingt-et-un table reserved for him.” Dante ran his fingers through his hair. “It looks as though your request to again deal at the table has been granted.”
Lydia perked up. As much as she liked helping the men out by doing Driscoll’s work when she was able, she truly loved the excitement of being on the gaming floor and especially working at the table.
“That’s wonderful. Well, I’m sure you don’t think so, but I’ve been waiting for another chance to give it a try.”
“The problem is your outfit.” He waved his hand up and down her sensible blue light wool dress, hardly anything like the one she wore the last time she dealt. But then there hadn’t been any reason to expect to need anything different this time to merely work on the books.
“Yes. I see what you mean.”
“I told you we kept gowns along with the masks for the employees to use when we hold our annual ball. I’ll have one of the maids accompany you downstairs to where they are stored and help you find one and get you into it. I still have the mask you used the last time.”
“Now?”
Dante checked his timepiece. “Yes. The club will open in about a half hour. Can you be ready by then?”
“Yes.” There was no doubt in her mind that she could slip into something different and don a mask again. What she needed time for was refreshing her memory on dealing. She’d ask a couple of the other employees to work with her to gain her confidence back.
He stood and pulled out her chair. “Come. I will find someone to help you.”
“I would also like a few others to play the game so I can refresh my memory.”
“That is a good idea.” He placed his palm at her lower back and steered her out of the dining room into the kitchen. There he found a maid to take her downstairs to change into a gown and ask her to round up a few employees that would be free until the club opened to work with Lydia on the dealing.
She was excited to be back dealing again. Before she’d gotten a chance to say anything else to Dante, he was gone, leaving her with the maid and a wardrobe full of gowns.
She rifled through them and came up with a red satin gown, black lace along the neckline, the end of the sleeves and the hem. She held in up against her body and looked into the full-length mirror. “Perfect.”
Sally had been the one designated to help her into the gown. When she looked at Lydia with the garment against her, she shook her head and smiled. “Mr. Rose might want to tell himself he doesn’t have a fancy for you, but I guarantee one look at you in that gown, and he will declare himself for all of London to hear.”
16
Despite the little bit of practice Lydia had with two of the maids and one security guard at the upstairs dining room table, she still fought the butterflies in her stomach as she walked with Dante to the vingt-et-un table.
“You seem nervous,” Dante said.
“Yes. I am a bit. But I’m sure once I get started, I will be fine.” She looked up at him as he studied her. “That is why I should do this more often.”
He gave a soft laugh. “Nice attempt, Miss Sanford, but once this assignment is over, you won’t be dealing cards at the Rose Room anymore.”
She was surprised at how saddened she felt at his statement. Did that mean she would never see him anymore, either? As she moved to take her position behind the table, she had to fight the tears attempting to force their way out. It would never do to have him see her so weak. If the end of the assignment meant the end of their relationship, then so be it.
What did she expect, that Dante was so smitten that he would begin attending ton events—that he loathed—just to spend time with her? Most likely he was anxious to get back to all the ladies he’d been rebuffing.
Oh, Lord, now she truly was going to cry.
“Is something wrong, sweeting?”
Don’t call me that. I’m not one of your lightskirts.
She smiled, blinking rapidly. “Not at all. I had something in my eye, but I think it’s gone now.”
Either Dante knew her better than she thought, or her ability to conceal her feelings had diminished. He looked at her with concern, which only made her feel worse. She needed to get away from him. Now. Before she made a complete cake of herself. “You can go about your duties. I will be fine.” Ignoring him, she took out two decks of cards and placed them on the table where the punters would see them before she opened the packs.
He hesitated, then said, “Very well. However, if anything happens that I should know about, signal me in some way. I will be watching your table on and off all night.”
She nodded and continued to shuffle. She breathed a sigh of relief when one of the security guards called him and he left to deal with that issue. Lydia checked her timepiece. The club was set to open any minute. She needed to get herself under control. She had a job to do. Well, actually two jobs. She needed to be a skilled vingt-et-un dealer and work on the assignment for the Home Office.
You are a professional, Lydia. Keep yourself focused.
* * *
She had been dealing for about forty-five minutes when the Ambassador appeared at her table. He’d not recognized her the last time she dealt, but she had spent more time with him since then.
Apparently, not expecting to see a woman of the Beau Monde standing behind a table at a gaming club, whipping cards to players, he briefly nodded to her and settled into the seat that had remained empty since they’d opened with a ‘reserved’ sign on it.
When the game they had been in the middle of finished, she nodded at him and dealt to the five players sitting in a semi-circle in front of her. It hadn’t taken her long to become fast and efficient. By the third game it was as if she’d done this all her life.
The Ambassador had a footman bring him a drink, which he quickly downed and then signaled for another one. His playing remained astute, however, and he won a couple of hands.
She’d just raked in the cards from a game when a woman walked up to the table and placed her hands on the Ambassador’s shoulders. She was a pretty woman, but one who had obviously been relying on face makeup to hide her age. Since Dante had told her ladies were not welcomed at the club, but men could bring their mistresses and courtesans, this woman’s low-cut gown and presence at the club signaled her status.
The Ambassador patted one of her hands. She leaned down to speak with him, but he waved her off as he watched the cards being dealt. Once he had his cards in front of him, he moved his chair back and she climbed onto his lap. Not bothering to keep his voice down, he said, “U tebya yest’ moya informatsiya?”
She smiled and twirled a bit of his hair with her finger. “U tebya yest’ moi den’gi?”
He scowled and pulled his head back. “Zavtra vecherom v Adel’fi teatre. V kholle cherez desyat’ minut postle predstavleniye nachala.” He shoved her off his lap and picked up the card Lydia had just dealt him. The woman sauntered away with a smirk on her face.
Lydia quickly translated the Russian in her head.
“Do you have my information?”
“Do you have my money?”
“Tomorrow night at the Adelphi theater. In the lobby ten minutes after the performance starts.”
Lydia almost screamed with excitement. This was what they’d been waiting for! She looked around the room while trying to keep her mind on the game. Dante leaned one shoulder against the wa
ll while he spoke with Keniel.
She cleared her throat which was silly since the noise of the club would certainly deaden any sound she made. She looked at the wall closest to her. One of the security guards stood watching her, his arms crossed. She nodded in his direction.
He strolled over to her table. “Yes, miss?”
“Please fetch Mr. Rose. I need to speak with him immediately.”
“He’s busy now. Maybe I can help.”
She glared at him. “He is over there,” she gestured with her head, “talking to Keniel. I’m sure if you tell him I need to speak with him, he will heed you.”
The guard looked her up and down with a lecherous glance that had her skin crawling.
“Just go.”
“Are we going to play, or chat all night?” one of the players at the table said.
“My apology,” she answered with a strong French accent, which she’d been using all evening since she’d spoken only French to the Ambassador at his last visit. She began dealing again and tried her best to tamp down her excitement.
Within minutes Dante was standing next to her. “What is it?”
She kept her eyes on the cards. “I need a break.”
He studied her for a minute. “Very well. I will have Malcolm take over.”
She nodded. “If you will join me upstairs in the office?”
He seemed to pick up on her agitation. “Yes. I could use a break myself.”
It took about ten minutes to make all the switches to allow Lydia to raise her hands to the players and step back to leave the table. A couple of the gamers complained that she was bringing them good luck and didn’t want her to leave. Since he’d been losing, the Ambassador was not one of them.
Dante was sitting in the office, his feet up on the desk when Lydia came flying in. “It has happened!” She stopped to take a deep breath. “The contact has been made.”
He nodded to the chair in front of his desk. “Take a minute to catch your breath.”
“I will,” she panted.
Dante got up and poured her a glass of water from the pitcher on the table near the back of the room. “Here, drink this.”
An Inconvenient Arrangement: Rose Room Rogues ~ Book Three Page 13