by Alyson Chase
Only one other way that he knew of to pour out his frustrations.
He took Colleen’s hand. “I’m taking her home with me. The club is no longer safe.”
“What about me?” Pinkerton’s nasal accent sounded like the whine of a child.
“I think it’s time our friend rejoined his family.” Montague tucked his thumbs in the pockets of his waistcoat. “Perhaps we can send him on his way somewhere safe, like back to America.”
“Good idea,” Summerset said. A gleeful smile stretched across his face. “After all he’s done for us, Pinkerton is going to need protection back to Scotland to rejoin his family. Seeing as he’s injured. Don’t you think?” he asked Dunkeld, as innocent as a babe.
The marquess crossed his arms over his chest. “No. He can find his own way there. We owe him nothing.”
Rothchild snorted but managed to smother his laughter. “Summerset is right. And you are the obvious choice.”
“You’re going to freeze your bollocks off!” Summerset didn’t bother trying to restrain his mirth. “Scotland at this time of year. You and Pinkerton will have to snuggle together in the inns on your travels. I hope—”
Dunkeld planted his elbow in the earl’s gut, cutting off his sentence to gasp for air. “‘Effing slags, all of you.” Turning to Colleen, he bowed his head. “Pardon my language, ma’am.” He cracked his neck and took a deep breath. “Come, Pinkerton. Let’s get you to a doctor and deliver you to your wife.”
The Scotsman strode away. Pinkerton took a couple steps, then turned back. “I just wanted to thank all of you. It is really most—”
“Just go.” To Max’s mind, the American was getting more than he deserved. He turned to Montague. “Can you contact Liverpool? Ask him to have this cleaned up by the time the club opens tomorrow?”
The duke nodded. “He won’t be happy we’ve come away without any witnesses again. But a little tidying up is the least he owes us.”
The men separated. Max pulled Colleen up to her rooms and found an empty valise. “Pack what you think you’ll need for the next couple of weeks.”
Silently, she moved among her wardrobes, placing a couple of pairs of new boots in the bottom of the kit.
Max frowned. “What? No argument?”
Colleen pressed her lips together. “As has just been proven, this building is easily accessible to men who want to cut my throat and …” She balled up a gown and tossed it in the valise.
Grasping her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “And what?”
She shrugged. “The man made it quite clear he wanted something more before he killed me. I think my fear excited him.” She patted Max’s chest. “I am quite happy to go stay in your house until this is resolved.”
Folding his arms around her, he pulled her close. He buried his nose in her hair and just enjoyed being surrounded by her. Her arms, her scent, her strength.
Somewhere during that embrace, he knew. Having her in his home for the next couple of weeks wouldn’t be enough. He would need her forever.
Chapter Fourteen
Colleen turned a corner and stepped around the man posted at the end of the hallway. She snapped the gardening book that she’d found in Max’s library shut and made an about-face, hoping to find some solitude.
She bumped into the man trailing behind her.
“Gentlemen.” She huffed. “I know the baron has engaged you to watch over me, but this is a little much. Wouldn’t your time be better spent securing the entrances to his house rather than following me about?”
The man standing in the hallway stared forwards. “Apologies, madam. The baron was explicit in his orders. We’re not to let you out of our sight.”
Yes, she’d been made aware of that when one of his men had followed her into the necessary. To the man’s credit, his face had flamed red when he’d realized his mistake, and he’d darted back. Colleen had still slammed the door on his blush.
After making love to every inch of her body the night before, Max had disappeared, leaving her under the watchful eyes of his servants and the men he’d hired to guard her. She appreciated that he wanted to keep her safe. The reality, however, of having strangers peering after her like she was a monkey in a menagerie, was less than enjoyable.
“All I want is to read in the sitting room. Alone.” She wasn’t the fastest reader, and the book she’d chosen was chock-full of long Latin names. Numbers were more her strength. She didn’t need some hired ruffian peering over her shoulder, watching her fumble her way through the tome. “Can that be arranged?”
The men looked at each other and shifted their weight.
Colleen drew her shoulder blades towards her spine. “I see. Then please call a carriage for me. I will be going to the club. That is still allowed, isn’t it?”
The one man dipped his head. “Yes, madam. As long as we accompany you.”
After what had happened in The Black Rose the night before, the supervision there was welcome. In Max’s home she felt safe. She’d lost that feeling in the club. But work didn’t stop because she was beset with dread.
Without a word to her shadows, she returned to the room Max had given her – one with a door connecting to his own chamber. She collected her spencer and a reticule. The book wouldn’t fit inside her bag, so she tucked it under her arm. She hoped to read in her office, free from scrutiny.
Her guard stood by the bureau, silent, his gaze darting to the connecting door to the master bedroom. Colleen refused to feel embarrassed. A month ago she would have been mortified by an affair of hers becoming public knowledge. But she was an independent woman, and Max wasn’t a man a woman should be ashamed of.
Chin high, she strode from the room and down the central staircase to the foyer. A footman opened the front door, and another guard melted from the wall. With a man five steps in front of her and one five steps behind, Colleen paraded to the carriage and climbed inside. One man followed her in, the other joining the driver up top.
She had to admit she was becoming accustomed to the service granted to the guest of a baron. It would be disappointing to return to opening her own doors.
Her heart twisted and flipped behind her breastbone. Losing those minor services would be nothing compared to losing Max. The feel of his mouth, the beat of his heart beneath her cheek as she fell asleep, his warm laugh buoying her spirits. Those were the things she would miss. That was what would be hard to live without.
The carriage pulled to a stop and the door opened. The slanting afternoon sun caught the second-story windows of the club, the glare causing her to blink. Cheery petunias lined planter boxes below the first-floor windows, and Colleen smiled as she always did when she saw them. Who would guess what went on within the building when such an innocent flower graced its walls?
Climbing the steps with her entourage, she entered The Black Rose. The muscles in her back clenched tighter the deeper she went into what had become her home. A home that had been teeming with men trying to kill her and Max’s friends.
Wanting to see the worst and get it out of the way, she headed for the kitchen. She jolted to a stop in the doorway.
“Something a’matter, ma’am?” one of her guards asked.
“No.” She drifted to the sink and placed her palm on the cool glass of the unbroken window. She looked around. The table had been righted, all the broken dishes cleaned up. The kitchen smelled of fresh paint. Colleen looked for holes in the walls and couldn’t find any.
Max’s friends could make a fortune if they opened a cleaning business. Colleen pursed her lips, impressed. The cook of The Black Rose stumbled in, a burlap bag full of fruits and vegetables hugged tight to his round stomach.
He nodded to Colleen and hefted his load onto the counter. “Mrs. Bonner. I wanted to thank you for the new equipment. The copper pans conduct heat much better than the old ones we had.”
Colleen had no idea what he was talking about. “You're welcome. I say only the best for the best.”
The cook’s pink cheeks plumped with his grin. He looked at the two men flanking the doorway and tilted his head. “Giving a tour to new members?”
One of the men coughed into his hand.
“Er, no.” Picking an apple from the bag, Colleen rubbed it on her sleeve. “There’s been a threat against one of our members. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure. But we’re taking extra precautions.”
With a reassuring smile, she headed towards her office. Lucy was on a settee in the main room, sewing a bit of lace onto a gown and chatting with some other girls. Colleen changed direction and approached the group. “Good afternoon, ladies. Lucy, can you join me in my office?”
Lucy nodded, eyeing the guards. She put down her gown and followed Colleen across the room to the entrance to Colleen’s private rooms. They climbed the stairs, one of the guards remaining at the base of the staircase, the other following them up. He took up position next to the door inside Colleen’s office.
She frowned. “As you can see, there is no one in the office but us. And no windows or doors besides that one to enter from. Please wait outside.”
“Madam, I’m supposed—”
“I know what you were told, but you have a head of your own. Use it.” She tapped a toe. “You’d do better making sure no one unwanted comes through that door.”
He nodded, took one last look around the room, and ducked outside.
Colleen shut the door with a decided click.
“Have a seat,” she told Lucy and circled behind her desk to do the same. “As assistant manager, I wanted to apprise you of a situation.”
“All right.” Lucy perched on the edge of the chair. Instead of her usual negligee or gossamer-thin gowns, she wore a basic morning dress. Cut a bit lower in the chest than Colleen’s liking, but much more business-like than before.
Colleen folded her hands together. “You should know there has been a threat against the club. I will be telling other workers that one of our members requires increased security, hence the presence of guards. But it is the Baron of Sutton and me the threat seems to be against. I don’t want to alarm anyone, but if you could tell people to keep an eye out for anything untoward, I would appreciate it.”
“Those men out there,” Lucy said, pointing a finger over her shoulder, “they’re here to protect you?”
Colleen shifted in her seat. She was as uneasy with the idea of men watching her every move as she was with the idea that someone wanted to harm her. Her anger simmered. What had she ever done to this Zed creature? She’d ignored his letters? Refused to give him the information he wanted? That hardly seemed cause enough for all this fuss.
“Yes.” Placing her palms flat against the cool wood of the desk, Colleen nodded. “And to watch over the rest of the club.” She would make sure of that. It was more than just her life at risk. “Although by having such a show of force, I’m certain that the blackguard wouldn’t dare attack us now.”
“All right. I’ll let the girls know to be extra careful.”
“Good.”
Lucy leaned forwards. “Can we discuss business now? I came up with a list of purchases we’ll need for the next month, and I think I found us a new wine supplier.” The woman spoke rapidly. Taking a folded piece of paper from the inside of her sleeve, she pushed it across the desk.
Colleen picked it up and ran her finger down the proposed list with its tidy scrawl of projected costs running down the side. “This all looks in order. Good job.”
Lucy flushed. “I was talking with Bob, our footman. He also works at White’s, and he’s friendly with the manager there, and he says his wine guy is the one to use.” She pulled another piece of paper, this time a small scrap, from her other sleeve, and gave it to Colleen.
Colleen eyed the woman’s sleeves, wondering what else lay hidden within. She took the name and address of the other supplier. “Thank you. I will contact him today and have M— Sutton run a history. This is most helpful.”
“And you’ll tell the baron that I found him? If I’m to become the manager, I need our employer to know I helped.”
Colleen’s reply, that of course she would give credit where due, was interrupted by a shout in the hallway. She shot to her feet and ran for the door, flinging it open. The guard posted down below came pounding up the stairs and took his position in front of Colleen.
She frowned and sidled around him. The other guard had one meaty hand wrapped around Molly’s elbow and was dragging her from Colleen’s bed chambers.
“What on earth is going on out here?” Colleen asked.
“I caught her peeping around your room.” The man shook Molly’s arm. “She says she works at the club.”
“She does.” Colleen pressed her back against the doorjamb and pointed into her office. “Let’s bring her in here.” She turned to Lucy. “Thank you. I think we’re done.”
With a curious look at Molly, Lucy scooted past the group and inched down the stairs, casting glances back over her shoulder every other step.
Molly jerked her arm from her captor’s grip and sauntered into the office, head high. One of the guards made a move to follow, but Colleen held up a hand. “You won’t be needed for this.” She closed the door and faced the scourge of The Black Rose. Perhaps scourge was a tad dramatic, but Molly had turned into a severe annoyance.
“Was there a particular reason you were in my chambers?” Colleen circled behind her desk and plopped in her chair. “Something you were looking for?”
“A shawl.” Crossing her arms over her small frame, Molly gave a delicate shiver. “I left my wrap at home and was hoping to borrow one.”
That was a good line, Colleen had to give her that. Molly was quick-witted. She was also a consummate liar. “Well, I’ll be happy to provide you with a covering for your return trip home. Your services are no longer needed here.”
Molly’s jaw dropped open, genuine shock blanking her face. “You can’t dismiss me. I’m the best incognita The Black Rose has.”
“That may be true, but your skill is surpassed by your deceit. I won’t have workers I can’t trust. Not anymore.” Picking up a piece of lead, Colleen rolled it between her palms. Trust was a precious commodity. One she should be willing to give if she expected it returned.
She shook off thoughts of Max. This was business. “You can collect any belongings you have stored here, and I’ll direct a carriage to take you home.” Standing, she stretched for the ledger on the shelf behind her. “I’ll tally up your past wages and settle with you before you go.”
Molly jumped forwards and slapped the journal from her hand. It fell onto the desk, cover open, the pages inside bending against the wood. “You can keep your pin money. I don’t need it.”
Colleen didn’t know anyone who didn’t need money. Not enough to ignore a week’s worth of wages. She cocked her head and righted the journal, smoothing the pages. “Do you have someone taking care of you? Perhaps the gentleman who showers you with expensive jewels?” A new stone rested above the girl’s low neckline. Deep blue and as large as a lump of coal.
Molly stepped around the desk, making Colleen stumble back. “Do you think there is only one man who knows my worth? That I won’t have fifty such idiots lining up to beg me to be their mistress?” She poked a sharp nail into Colleen’s shoulder. “I could buy this club ten times over.” She blinked and pressed her lips together in a slight grimace. “Yes, I think I’ll order one of my patrons to buy this club out from under you and toss you to the street. Because that’s where you belong. You’re nothing more than trash, and no amount of fancy gowns the baron buys for you will change that.”
Molly had backed Colleen around the desk and across the room. The solid weight of the door hit Colleen’s bottom, and her shoulders sagged. Only three inches away were the two men hired to protect her. She hadn’t thought she’d need their assistance ridding the club of a lightskirt, but the spite in Molly’s eyes told a different story.
“I’m glad that the termination of your employ
ment won’t cause you any setbacks.” Colleen made her voice brisk and businesslike. No need to antagonize or show concern. “And, of course, if you require references, I would write of your great popularity and skill.” Her character would receive a less complimentary mention, however. “Now, as we’ve nothing more to discuss, I bid you good eve’n.” She fumbled behind her back for the latch, not wanting to take her gaze off of Molly. She jerked the door open, scooting to the side.
One of the guards stepped forward, looking irritated. “Any problems?”
“None.” Colleen wiped her damp palms on her skirt. “Molly is going to collect her things. Will you arrange for a carriage and driver to take her where she wishes and escort her out?”
He nodded, his gaze tracking Molly’s every breath. Colleen would have to commend Max on his choice of guard. Annoying as they were being underfoot all the time, she appreciated that they weren’t deceived by a pretty face and a tight bodice. The man recognized Molly for the trouble she was.
The girl’s face shuttered. She strode through the door without acknowledging Colleen or the men. It was as though none of them existed to Molly anymore.
Colleen waited for the door at the base of the stairs to snick shut before returning to her office. She sat behind her desk, and the tension in her body seeped away. The club’s profits would take a blow, but releasing the woman was the right choice for the long-term. Her attitude poisoned the other workers.
Molly’s boastful words rang in her ears. She did seem to have an arsenal of suitors at her disposal, which left Colleen with one question: why had Molly remained at The Black Rose?
Perhaps the lady-bird’s suitors weren’t as ardent as they appeared. A trinket here and there hardly meant they were willing to set her up in the luxury she so obviously thought she deserved. The clients might appreciate her varied talents, but that didn’t lead to a sustained interest. At his core, could a man love and support a woman he didn’t trust?