“That is a great disappointment, Mrs. Spencer,” he said, reaching out and lightly touching a wisp of hair that had worked free of her Psyche knot.
“Is it.”
“Indeed, yes.” Gideon let his hand follow the hair down the line of her jaw until his fingers were near her mouth. He let his little finger gently trace the curves of her upper lip and Mrs. Spencer let out a small sigh.
Damn the man, she thought, he drew her right in, just as he had drawn Jim. He didn’t force, this Gideon Naylor, he just let the stillness he created do the trick. She hadn’t been with a customer for over five years. Unfortunately, that meant she hadn’t been with a man for that long either. Not that she had missed it. Not that she had ever enjoyed it, except for the years that she had been with her protector.
“I don’t suppose that I could convince you to relax your policy for one night,” whispered Gideon, his finger lingering on her lips.
“I might consider giving you an hour, Mr. Naylor,” she whispered back.
Gideon lowered his face and gave her a gentle kiss on the mouth. “Good.”
Chapter 31
As they left the parlor, Mrs. Spencer told Jim that Carrie was in charge for the next hour or so and led Gideon up the stairs to the room she had once given to Jim. She turned away from him and started to undress matter-of-factly, but Gideon placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to him for another, this time, longer and deeper kiss.
“No need to be so businesslike,” he whispered.
“But it is business, Mr. Naylor.”
“It is good business to please the customer, Mrs. Spencer. And it pleases me to please you.”
“A novel concept in a whorehouse,” she said, with a low, shaky laugh.
Gideon’s fingers were gently untying the tapes of her gown, and the cool and self-possessed Mrs. Spencer shivered as he brushed her neck and spine.
He let her dress fall to her waist and gently cupped one breast, his thumb circling her nipple as he kissed her once again.
This time she responded naturally and hungrily, and as they stood there kissing, Gideon undid the rest of her gown and let it fall to the floor. Mrs. Spencer wore no underslip, and Gideon reveled in the soft flesh that pressed against him. She lowered her hand to his trousers, but he forestalled her, turning her until he had her back to the bed, and then lowering her onto the coverlet.
Gideon did not turn away as he undressed, and Blisse lay there watching as he slowly undid his trousers. His manhood sprang free. He stood there, a very satisfying figure of a man despite his lack of inches and receding hairline. He lay down beside her and, leaning on his elbow, ran his fingers up her thighs and then between them, letting the caressing fingers brush the triangular thatch of hair, which was light brown, not black. Gideon smiled at her.
“Just as I guessed. Your hair is a little too black to be natural, Mrs. Spencer.”
“At least it is still abundant, Mr. Naylor,” she replied, her fingers tracing his hairline.
“Touché, Mrs. Spencer.”
“My name is Blisse.”
“And mine Gideon,” he answered, stroking her with his fingers until she lifted her hips to meet him.
Her hand reached down to him and he said: “No, you have spent enough years pleasuring men,” and he knelt on top of her, moving himself up and down where his fingers had been, until she was moaning beneath him. Only then did he slip inside her, stroking her gently at first and then forcefully, holding himself back while he reached down and added his subtle fingering to the music he was making on her body. It was only after she climaxed in a series of shuddering gasps that he let himself experience his own release.
They lay locked in each other’s arms for a while, neither wanting to break their closeness with words. Finally Gideon gently stroked her hair back from her face and said: “You are very appropriately named, my dear.”
“Ah, yes,” she replied bitterly, turning away from him. “That is what the first man said.”
“And who was he?”
“Our vicar. Yes, he said it was like experiencing the bliss of paradise. For him, you understand,” she added ironically.
“Gideon continued stroking her hair. “How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Did you not tell anyone?”
“Who would have believed me? No, our vicar was the younger son of a viscount, happily married with three children, and I was the local shopkeeper’s daughter. His wife caught us. I was locked in my room with no food for three days. When I wouldn’t ‘confess’ my sins, my father beat me and threw me out. I came to London and you can guess the rest. It is not a very original story.”
Gideon leaned down and kissed her neck. “No, I have heard variations of it from the likes of Annie and Grace. How did you come to own your own house?”
“I was lucky to have been taken into a high-class house when I was in my twenties. I met a man—a gentleman. Another younger son. He became my protector for four years. When he finally married, he gave me a parting gift so that I could set up on my own.”
“You loved him?”
“I loved him, the more fool I.”
“I don’t think it foolish,” said Gideon.
Blisse started to sit up. “I believe our time is up, Mr. Naylor.”
“Gideon. Must you leave?”
“I’m a good businesswoman, Mr. Naylor.”
“Gideon.”
“Gideon. I must get back downstairs.”
“But Carrie seems like such a competent girl,” he said with a grin, grasping her wrist gently. “And I am, after all, a paying customer. Surely it is good business to ensure that I, er, come again. I am beginning to like it here very much. I will miss Grace and Annie—”
“I have a girl who would make you forget them, Gideon. She is young and fresh. I will make sure you get Nancy when you return.”
“But as I told you, I prefer experience.”
“Well, then, Carrie would be just the thing,” said Blisse, trying to stand up, but Gideon would not release her.
“No,” continued Gideon, in his mildest tones, “I prefer older women.” He pulled himself up so that he was sitting behind her, his legs on either side of hers. He let go of her wrist and his hand sought her out again. She arched her back against him and he nuzzled her neck while he brought her to an excruciatingly slow and pleasurable climax. She relaxed against him for a moment and then, pushing him back on the bed, took her hand and stroked him rhythmically until he thought he would burst. And just before he did, she lowered herself down on him so that he climaxed in seconds inside her sweet, warm darkness.
They slept in each other’s arms, and when Gideon awoke, he lay there, looking down at her. Her black hair was down around her shoulders and her face was, for the first time since he’d met her, at one with her mouth: relaxed and tender. Gideon had never had a woman he hadn’t paid for and never a woman he had loved, for Mary had let him do no more than kiss her. Grace and Annie were sweet, they genuinely liked him, but ultimately—they were all business. No money, no time with them.
Blisse Spencer was all business too, so why had this felt different? He looked over at his coat, lying crumpled on the floor. He should slip out of bed, put his money on the table, and be gone. And if he were smart, never come back, no matter what he had told her.
But he didn’t want to pay for this. He wanted to pretend it had been real desire between them, not just the usual transaction between whore and customer.
Blisse stirred in his arms and opened her eyes. For a moment or two they were unfocused, and as innocent as he expected they’d been at fourteen. Then, as she remembered where she was, they grew hard. But before she could say anything, Gideon spoke.
“I know. It is late. You are a busy woman. But I have a proposition for you.”
She looked puzzled.
“I find that I wish to pretend that this afternoon was real…that is…that we were only a man and a woman who desired each other. I do not want to pay you.
”
Her eyes opened wide. “Now, before you become angry, hear me out. I will come back some other time and pay you double for Carrie or Nancy or whomever you choose. Will that be satisfactory?”
“How do I know you will come back, Mr. Naylor?”
“I can only give you my word.”
“Very well,” she replied, with no expression in her voice. “I will trust you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Spencer. And now I must be going.” Gideon got up and dressed quickly, looking back only once. Mrs. Spencer lay there, looking up at him with those hard eyes of hers. He must have been a fool to think there had been anything different about this coupling. He must have sounded a right fool just then, telling her his feelings. He tucked in his shirt, thrust his arms into his coat, and muttering good-bye, was gone.
Blisse Spencer lay there. Her eyes had softened remarkably as soon as Gideon shut the door. Could he truly have felt what she had? A coming to life of what she thought was dead forever? Of course not. She was being ridiculous. She was an aging whore. She was good. She’d never denied that. She’d convinced men more times than she could count that her desire was real. Obviously she hadn’t lost her expertise, for she’d just done it again. He’d realize that and not return. Or come back asking for Carrie or Nancy. Not Blisse Spencer with her dyed black hair and foolish heart.
* * * *
While Gideon had been with Mrs. Spencer, Drabble had bought himself time with Lizzie, one of the more experienced girls. Carrie had been about to give him Nancy, but Jim shook his head behind Drabble and she shrugged her shoulders and called Lizzie down. As Drabble went up the stairs behind her, he heard Carrie say, “Now Jim, I know you like Nancy, but you can’t be holding her back like that.”
Hit’s Fair’aven’s footman, thought Drabble as he sniffed after Lizzie’s shapely bottom. Well, now, Oi can enjoy myself tonight and inform Lord Fair’aven in the morning.
“He was not,” Lizzie announced to Carrie and Jim and Gideon later, as Jim and the girl stood in the hallway seeing the Runner out, “the most repulsive customer I’ve had. But that dripping and dropping great nose of his—and the snuffling! It was hard not to laugh, especially since he snuffled through the, er…crucial moment, if you know what I mean.”
They all laughed and Gideon bade them good night and set off for home. He had never gotten to question Jim, he thought, but then, that gave him an excuse to come back very soon.
It wasn’t until he had gone a few blocks that the memory stirred. The snuffling man in the Garrick’s Head. A snuffling man here at Mrs. Spencer’s. But surely there were plenty of dripping noses all over London. But what if someone had been following him the other night? What if Lord Fairhaven had hired a man so that if Gideon got to Jim, Fairhaven did too? Damn. If what he suspected were so, then Fairhaven would have the information in the morning. It looked as if he, Gideon, would have to do some following himself. And that meant no sleep tonight.
Chapter 32
Gideon took up his watch across from Fairhaven’s. It was hard to stay awake, for he was not only tired, but relaxed. It was hard to keep his mind on the street and not get lost in recollections of his time with Blisse. Just before dawn, he dozed off for a short while, but luckily the early-morning clatter awakened him. He watched as the vendors filled the street, but saw no one else. He was wondering if his intuition had proved wrong when he heard and saw Drabble coming down the street. The man looked very sure of himself when he knocked on the door and was admitted by the butler.
He came out slightly subdued, and Gideon guessed that Mark Halesworth wanted no more connection between himself and his spy. Well, now, Mr. Snuffle was going to be followed. Followed and grabbed.
Gideon gave him fifteen minutes, so that they were out of sight of any spectators, and then, pushing by Drabble, stopped suddenly and pushed him back into an alley.
“Wot do you think you are doing?” whined Drabble. “Oi’ve committed no crime.”
“You’re lying. I am sure that Lord Fairhaven paid you a pretty penny for following an officer of the law and for the information you just gave him.”
Drabble tried to bluff. “Wot information? Lord Fair’aven give the loikes of me money? Walker!”
Holding Drabble against the wall by his throat, Gideon rummaged through his pockets and found a guinea. “A guinea per week, eh? Just like a Runner. Now why don’t you tell me exactly what Lord Fairhaven paid you for? Or I’ll see you in Newgate for interfering with the king’s justice.”
Drabble didn’t hesitate. Fear seemed to dry him up, for with only one or two sniffs, he got out the whole story.
“And what does Fairhaven plan to do?” asked Gideon when Drabble had finished.
“ ‘E asked me to meet ‘im at the Golden Crown tonight so Oi could take ‘im to Mrs. Spencer’s. ‘E’ll see wot this Jim knows…”
“And then?”
“Oi don’t know. Hit all depends on the boy. Hif ‘e saw somefing, well then… Oi don’t think Lord Fair’aven will be too pleased with ‘im, will ‘e?”
“Let me tell you what you are going to do, Mr.—”
“Drabble.”
“Mr. Drabble. You are going to do just what Fairhaven asked. And you are not going to tell him about this little conversation, are you?”
“No, sir. Of course not.”
“Good. I don’t know what Jim saw, by the way. He may not have seen anything. But I do wonder what Fairhaven thinks there was for him to see.”
“Oi don’t know, guv. Oi am sure Oi don’t, and ‘is lordship didn’t tell me.”
Gideon shook Drabble hard enough so that his head bounced rhythmically against the wall. “You will do as I say, won’t you, Drabble?”
“Yes, sir. Oi don’t want no trouble with the Runners, Mr. Naylor.”
“Good. Now off with you.”
Drabble tried for a little dignity as Gideon let him go. He straightened his collar and coat, but after one look at Gideon’s face, he scurried away down the street, as Gideon watched with grim amusement. “Well, Lord Ashford will be happy to hear about this development in the case,” he muttered to himself.
Indeed, Tony was thrilled when he heard of Gideon’s progress.
“Don’t give me too much credit, my lord,” said Gideon. “I can’t believe he followed me for so long without my noticing. If he hadn’t given in to a certain appetite…” Gideon was very disappointed in himself.
“But you put two and two together, Naylor,” protested Tony.
“Yes. A sniffle here, a snuffle there,” he said sarcastically.
“You found Jim, and now you’ll find the connection to Fairhaven. All we have to do now is get Mark to confess.”
Gideon heard the ‘we.’ “I am calling in another Runner, my lord.”
“Oh, no, you’re not. We both think Mark Halesworth killed Claudia and let me rot in Newgate for it. Would have let me hang. I am going to take part in this,” said Tony, with a look in his eyes that his subalterns would have recognized.
“We don’t know for sure that Mark Halesworth killed Lady Fairhaven.”
“Do you have any serious doubts, Naylor?”
“Not a one, my lord. You are welcome to accompany me. I wish to be there by early evening so that we don’t miss him. I will be back to pick you up at five.”
“I’ll be ready.”
* * * *
When they arrived at Mrs. Spencer’s, Carrie opened the door and Gideon had a moment of panic. Maybe Jim had run again, or maybe Fairhaven had gotten here ahead of him. But when he inquired, Carrie only smiled and winked and said that Jim was spending a little time with Nancy.
“Is Mrs. Spencer around?” Gideon asked.
“She usually takes a rest in the afternoon, Mr. Naylor, since she is up most of the night.”
“Of course. We will wait in the parlor, Carrie. Send Jim in as soon as he comes down. And Carrie…”
“Yes, Mr. Naylor?”
“You remember Lizzie’s customer,
Mr. Drabble?”
“The great snuffler?”
“That’s the one. He will be back tonight. Don’t admit him before you have told me.”
“Yes, sir. Er, does your friend here want to wait with you, or is he in the mood for some company?” Carrie batted her eyelashes at Tony and pulled at her dress as though to smooth it, although her real purpose was to make sure that more of her bosom was revealed.
Tony gave her a quick grin. “Not tonight, luv, I am sorry.”
“There is no harm in trying, sir,” she said as she whisked out.
Tony gazed around the parlor. “For the neighborhood, this seems a decent house, Naylor.”
“Yes, and when Jim is on, that only adds to the atmosphere.”
Tony smiled. “I can imagine. Of course, I don’t frequent these places myself. I’ve spent all my time at 75 St. James Street since I’ve been home. And on the Peninsula there were plenty of willing women.” Tony was silent for a moment and then asked: “Are you married, Naylor?”
Gideon looked over at him in surprise. “No, my lord. A Runner’s life is hardly one a woman would want to share. Out all hours. Consorting with thieves and worse. No, I wouldn’t ask a woman to put up with that.”
“It must be a lonely life. Rather like a soldier’s.”
“About the same, my lord. Although when I was in the Forty-seventh Foot I thought I had someone to come home to. But she got tired of waiting.”
“After this is all over, I suppose I will be settling into a rather monkish life myself, Naylor. Up early in the morning, riding the estate and early to bed. A life of virtuous maturity,” Tony added with a whimsical smile. “Not how I ever pictured myself. But I suppose we all have to grow up.”
Gideon was too curious not to ask. “What of Lady Joanna, my lord? She is a good friend and still unattached.”
“She is most definitely not waiting for me, I can assure you. She just hasn’t found her match yet. And Joanna deserves someone…someone less like me and more like Ned,” Tony finished slowly.
“She was certainly very concerned about you, my lord.” Gideon felt he had gone far enough. There was only so much he could say without seeming to pry into what was the private affair of an earl, no matter how accessible that earl was.
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