Despite himself, he was curious, and feeling so agitated he was sure he would pop if his linen drawers rubbed him the wrong way one more time.
"All right, lead me to your paragon."
He was revolted once again by the shocking decor of the bordello, but even more disgusted with the patrons, who in most cases did not even bother to avail themselves of private rooms or beds.
They were coupling all over the large drawing room in every position and state of undress imaginable. He wondered if there was such a word as tripling or even quadrupling as he watched masses of limbs writhing on the floor, couch or table.
He was as fond of female flesh as anyone, but he had never visited a knocking shop such as this, and never wanted to again.
He had thought himself worldly, but some of the young bucks of the ton were doing things to the poor young girls he could never even imagine thinking of, let alone wishing to.
"Come on, this way. Stop staring. Anyone would think you'd never done that before," Matthew said with a laugh.
Lawrence looked daggers at him. "I never even knew it was possible."
Matthew threw his head back. "Lud, you're priceless. What a sense of humour."
He led him to a white and gilt door and knocked three times in a particular rhythm. "My special signal, don't you know." He gave a broad wink.
"Come in," he heard a high-pitched voice call.
Lawrence saw a mass of ruby and white flesh jiggling over a tiny man like an escaped blancmange.
"Almost finished." One meaty hand strangled the man's wattles above and the other below. The poor man collapsed and grabbed his clothes, scurrying from the room on trembling legs which were so twig-like they could scarcely hold his weight, for all he was so tiny.
"Lawrence, Belinda, Belinda, Lawrence, the man I was tell you about who was supposed to have come for his buck's night."
The buxom red-head with hips as broad as a sofa reclined on the pillow and looked him over so lewdly he felt as though he had been ravished, defiled.
She nodded and spread her legs wide, exposing her shaven sex in a manner which made Lawrence's skin crawl.
"That's all right. He can come now. In fact, with a man like him I'll probably be able to come too. Special rate for you, luvvie. In fact, hung the way you are, I'd almost do it for free."
Matthew was genuinely hurt. "You always make me pay."
"You still don't know what you're doing. An hour with a man of the world like Lawrence would be worth a hundred rogerings from chaps like you."
Lawrence diffused the situation quickly. "She's just trying to wind you up, goad you on, Matthew. Don't let me interfere. You two can go at it. I'll even pay." He flung a handful of notes on the floor. "It's the least I can do after you were so kind."
"Very generous of you, old sport. Would you like to stay and watch?"
"Er, no thanks. I've seen enough for one night."
"You think that other thing was bad, wait until you see--"
"Good night, Matthew. And goodbye."
He got out into the street as fast as he could and hailed a cab, hugging himself all the way back to his hotel.
Alone in his room at last, he shuddered and washed his hands and face, and ordered a bath, much to the surprise of the night staff, who thought he looked decidedly ill and brought up some brandy to revive him as well.
Work hard, play hard, that had always been his motto. Now he was appalled that he had wasted as much time as he had since he had arrived in London on carnal pursuits and men like Matthew Sampson.
He forced himself to breathe evenly, deeply. A vision of Juliet as she had smiled up at him timidly the day they had married made him long for her so acutely he slipped his hand under the water.
But one touch told him it was not the same. There was nothing wrong with it, but he had spent months alone on board ship, months alone on his tea plantation. Why was he alone now when he could be with his wife?
But she was Matthew Dane's sister. A spy. An experienced woman of the world
She might well be, but compared to the trull he had watched tonight, Juliet was as pure as the driven snow.
He pulled himself out of the tub and dressed, and began to pack his things. He would make a decision about the tea rooms tomorrow, have the survey done and sign the papers. Go to the labour exchange and try to find suitable people for his enterprise. And shake the dust of the city and go home to Juliet as soon as he was done. Home.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Three weeks to the day after he had left, Lawrence went up the stairs straight from the coach as the clock struck midnight. He slipped into his wife's room silently. Just as he had done the last time he had visited her, he pulled back the sheet to feast his eyes on his wife, naked and in peaceful repose.
But instead of her pink and ivory perfection, he saw swathes of cloth, and she clutched the sheet and coverlet and whimpered, trying to tug them back up over her shivering frame. The weather had turned fiercely cold again, and Juliet was bunched up in a tight ball, her hands in fists under her chin.
His fantasy thwarted so unexpectedly, Lawrence could feel his petulance rise to the fore despite himself.
"I thought I told you I expected to find you in bed naked and waiting for me at any time," he said gruffly, sitting on the edge of the bed in a way that could only be described as menacing.
Her eyes flew open at once. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, her voice shaking with cold and fear. "It's just--"
"And even worse than disobeying me is talking back!" His voice rose several decibels.
Juliet cowered under the covers even further. "I don't mean to defy you," she said between chattering teeth, "but I'm so cold."
Still in his great coat, he had not noticed how chill the room was. Now he looked around with some perturbation. "Why is there no fire in the grate?"
"The servants won't do as I ask. You told them you were the master, that they should obey only you, not give any consideration to me." A sudden violent sneeze flew out of her before she could stop it to emphasise the pitifulness of her plight.
"What? It's still winter. Do you mean to say--"
"I can always go to the kitchen if--"
He flung the covers back, and she waited in confused terror for his hands to rend her clothes. But he was simply staring. "You haven't even any hot water bottles!"
She cringed away from him, still trying to shake herself from slumber. "Please don't shout so. My head is aching and I--"
He raised his candle and saw her wan expression, hollow cheeks and shocking pallor.
She had been working too hard on her book and essays, and of course hardly had anything to eat. She had also missed him dreadfully for all his mercurial manner, and thus scarcely been able to sleep. The bitter cold also made it hard to get comfortable in the huge, lonely bed.
Lawrence had never seen such a bright, sunny girl so radically altered. He took one of her freezing hands in his own, noting the pitifully thin fingers. Now his voice as deathly quiet. "And did their refusal to perform any duties for you also include serving meals?"
She nodded. "I eat with them in the kitchen if there happens to be anything left. If there isn't I can usually cadge some boiling water and coddle myself an egg if Cook doesn't chase me and there is one. In truth though I've not had much appetite."
His hand snaked out to snatch her wrist, and before Juliet even knew what had happened she was being lifted to her feet. She hunched tightly, preparing for a blow. As she shivered against Lawrence in trepidation he held her close to his chest, wrapping his coat around them both. With his other hand he yanked the bell pull so hard that it practically tore out of the ceiling.
Then he swung her up into his arms and began to descend the stairs. By the time he had got down to the kitchen there was still no sign of a single servant, and his fury was reaching astronomical portions.
Lawrence sat Juliet in a chair by the fire and began to strip off his greatcoat and jacket. Her eyes widened. He had said
he could take her at any time, anywhere. But surely he was not going to futter her in front of all the servants?
She trembled as he gripped her wrist, and a cry of protest bubbled to her lips. But he stopped stripping off at his jacket and threw it around her shoulders, placing her one arm and then the other into the huge sleeves before tucking the coat all around her body.
"Stay here, and stay warm." He brushed her hair out of her eyes, and to her astonishment stroked her cheek gently for a moment. "I'll be back soon."
He stormed up the stairs. Juliet could hear his voice echoing through the attic as he roused all the servants out of their beds.
Or each other's.
Juliet gasped as two naked serving girls and four of the menservants were driven down into the kitchen by her outraged husband.
"The six of you will be dismissed without references or wages first thing in the morning. In the meantime you're going to wait on my wife hand and foot. No fire, no food? I'm master here, and she mistress, but you are mere servants and there's a distinct difference in our positions.
"You've treated her worse than an orphan! I expected food and a fire this instant for her room, a warming pan, hot waterbottles, and a clean habitation. They haven't even been taking care of the chamber or the night soil, have they?"
She blushed. "No," she admitted. "I've been tending to everything myself such as I've been able."
He looked at the remaining serving girl and the cook, the kitchen boy and the gardener. "The rest of you will help find some decent replacements for this sorry pack of swivers and you'll do everything my wife asks you the instant she asks you to do it, or you'll be out on your ears as well. Is that clear?"
Most of the servants now began to scurry about to follow his orders. One of the buxom serving maids dared to approach boldly. "Are you sure you want to dismiss me, guv?" she said with a warm smile.
His cold grey eyes flicked over her body almost insultingly. "There's nothing of yours that I'm even remotely interested in. That you should have the gall to proposition me in front of my genteel wife means you can leave now. Bates, please ensure that she leaves this house in five minutes with only that which she is entitled to take with her."
"It's the ladylike wives that drive red-blooded blokes like you to me," the woman said with an arrogant toss of her tangled hair. "You know why I was here. Don't bother to pretend otherwise."
With a withering glance at Juliet she sidled off, looking far too smug and self-satisfied considering she had just got the sack.
But as Juliet had learned in London, a woman who was not too particular about her virtue could go far in the world. Just look at Matilda.
Lawrence now came over to poke the fire until it began to glow, then fed in more coal. "Any better?" he asked softly.
"Yes, thank you, sir."
His black brows drew together. "You know my name. I would have you use it."
"Yes, Mr. Howard."
He stared at her, trying to detect any sarcasm, but found none. "No, I meant by my given name."
"I see. Lawrence," she said timidly.
He wondered what it was about the way she said his name that made it sound like a caress. He looked into her violet eyes now, and she stared back into his own silvery ones, now as grey as a storm-tossed sea. Then she touched his shoulder lightly. "I'm glad you're home. It's good to see you."
He was pleased for all his insistence on submissiveness and respect that she was not cringing away. He was also glad that after the dreadful experience being mistreated in her own home for so many weeks she was not completely despondent and dejected.
"We'll have you warmed up and fed in no time. Some wine?"
"No, thank you," she said with a grimace, thinking how raw her stomach felt.
But then that was another reason for her thinness. Even if she had been getting fed regularly, her stomach had been so unsettled that she probably would have lost most of it anyway.
She sighed as she realised she really ought to tell him what she suspected. But it was not something he was going to be glad to hear at this point. It was only going to make him even more resentful of the way her had been tied down and trapped.
Well, he seemed so uninterested in her now that he had had her a few times that he probably wouldn't even notice. Especially if he insisted on making love to her face down and never touched her as he had said she could expect.
On the other hand he would be furious not being told. Juliet sighed again. She was certainly never going to win no matter what she did.
But she was not going to think about that now. It was early days yet anyway. A lot could happen in the meantime. Most women did not count themselves safe until the first three months had passed. Why get him upset over something that would in all likelihood amount to nothing?
For the moment at least Lawrence was home after so many weeks, and being solicitous of her. Not looking at her as if she were some unpleasant species of insect. Just keep him calm...
Cook came bustling up now with the remains of a roast, which she began to heat in its own juices. She also began to warm some soup.
"Shall you be eating in the dining room, sir?" she asked stiffly.
"No, my wife is cold. We shall remain here by the fire."
Juliet sneezed again.
He offered her his handkerchief.
"Thank you."
"Perhaps we should get the doctor out."
"No, I wouldn't want to put you to any more trouble," she said quickly.
"But if you're ill--"
"No, really, I'm fine," she insisted, worried that the doctor might already be able to discern whether or not a baby were on the way and would tell him.
"All right. But if you're not feeling better tomorrow I'm sending for him."
She nodded and huddled down in his jacket.
Lawrence sighed. "I'm sorry things have been so terrible here. I'm afraid I trusted these servants far too much and assumed that they would continue to perform well even with myself and Nash away. I'm guessing he's been in Bristol?"
She nodded. "As soon as you left."
"I shall ask him to find someone suitable to train up that should be able to take his place when we are neither of us here. I promise you will not be left alone and defenseless again."
"Not so helpless if I had been given the keys or at least some pin money," she said softly.
His brow knit again fiercely. "No keys, you say?"
"Cook refused to give them to me. Said I was a flighty young miss, and a jade, that I wouldn't know one end of a carpet beater from the other."
"It isn't her place--"
"She's angry because I did actually try to give her some hints as to how she could improve her receipts but--"
Cook chose to put her tuppence in. "I dare say all sorts of fancy rich foods a hoity-toity miss like her is used to, which are indigestible." She gave a disapproving sniff.
Lawrence glared at her. "That may be true, but it couldn't be very much worse than the awful things you served the last time I was here."
Cook glared at Juliet as if noting down yet another black mark against her which she would pay for.
Lawrence caught the look and decided he was not going to tolerate her rudeness.
"Tomorrow we shall go to the labour exchange in Bath and find an entirely new cook and a housekeeper."
"If you please, I don't need a housekeeper. I know I'm young, but I really would like to try to make a decent home for you myself."
He nodded, pleased with Juliet's answer. "It would be good to let you take responsibility for a time. Teach you what you need to know."
She stared at him, wondering at what point she could correct some of his assumptions about her. He evidently assumed that just because she was Matthew's sister that she had been raised in the lap of luxury.
Nothing could have been further from the truth. It had only been her brother's marriage which had altered her and her sister's circumstances and prospects, and only for about a week.<
br />
It was more than kind of Matthew and his wife to have taken an interest considering the cloud which had hung over her and her sister since even before they had been born.
But to tell Lawrence all she had suffered was unthinkable. She did have some pride left in spite of being at such a low ebb. The last thing she wanted was for him to be kind to her because he felt sorry for her.
At that thought she removed the great coat. What was the point in feeling melancholy? Plenty of people were far worse off than she was.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5 Page 17