He began guiding her between tables toward the wooden counter, behind which kegs lined the shelves. She easily spotted Gillie, who was nearly as tall as Finn. Her red hair was cropped short. Lavinia had been appalled by her rebelliousness when she’d first met her, but now she had the fleeting thought it was a style that wouldn’t require nearly as much work to maintain. Perhaps she would shear her own hair.
Then she spied the Duke of Thornley and staggered to a stop. He was behind the counter, without a jacket, his sleeves rolled up, as he filled a glass with beer. Smiling brightly, he handed it off to a customer, turned, and bussed a quick kiss over Gillie’s cheek before turning his attention back to another patron. He was working as a barman, and she’d never seen him happier or more appealing. The last remnants of the guilt she’d been harboring over leaving him at the altar dissipated. Certainly, she couldn’t deny she’d handled the matter poorly, but he’d never have been as at ease if married to her.
Finn’s arm came around her back, his hand settling on the side of her waist. “Come on,” he urged. “They’ll welcome you.”
She wasn’t as confident as he was, but she did want to let Thornley know she was gratified to see him looking so joyous. Finn deftly worked their way between customers until they were both standing at the counter. Although for the first time since she’d begun this new life, she was very much aware of her tattered clothing, wished they’d waited until the seamstress had finished her work—then chastised herself for caring about appearances.
Gillie smiled at Finn, her grin momentarily faltering when she realized her brother wasn’t alone. She touched Thorne’s arm, jerked her head toward them. He turned. His eyes grew warm, his mouth curled up. With his duchess at his side, he approached. “Lady Lavinia.”
“Lavinia will do. I’ve cast off that aspect of my life. It seems you might be doing the same.”
He chuckled. “No, I just enjoy helping out from time to time. Gillie, have you met—”
“Yes, years ago. Finn, this is a surprise.”
“Vivi is my new partner,” he said without preamble.
Gillie’s hazel eyes widened. “What? In your club?”
“Indeed. We signed the papers today. Thought we’d come celebrate.”
“That’s an interesting turn of events.”
“What club?” Thornley asked.
“My brother has the notion that women are in need of a gambling hell.”
“It’s more than a notion,” Lavinia said, feeling a need to defend Finn against anyone who didn’t think he was going to make a success of himself. His siblings were successes in their own rights, but then they hadn’t been delayed from their pursuits by her father. “He’s making it happen, and I think the ladies are going to love it.”
He gently squeezed her waist, and her body instinctually moved nearer to him as though it had suddenly become metal shavings and he was a magnet. He’d always provided her with a protective shelter; only now she wanted to provide him with one.
His sister’s eyes seemed to be twinkling with approval, which was much preferred to the suspicion that had lurked there when she’d first caught sight of Lavinia. “Why don’t you find a table and we’ll bring you drinks.” She angled her head toward Lavinia. “Red wine, as I recall.”
She was impressed by her memory but was in the mood for something a bit stronger. “I’d prefer brandy if you have it.”
“What respectable tavern owner wouldn’t have brandy?” Gillie asked with a smile.
With the pressure of his hand, Finn guided her toward a square table near the rear of the room, where the din of others’ conversation was softer, less intrusive. He pulled out the chair for her, then settled into the one beside it. She started to tug off her gloves before remembering she wasn’t wearing any. She placed a hand on the table. He quickly covered it with his own.
“Were you defending me, Vivi?” he asked low, seductively.
“Defending your dream and your right to have it. To reach for it. Even if you fall, I think it’s better to have reached. Not that I think you’ll fail. Truly, Finn, the ladies will enjoy having their own establishment where they can be a bit naughty.”
He leaned nearer. “What’s your dream?”
To be free of the guilt, to be at peace, to know—
She glanced up with a start at the arrival of both Gillie and Thornley. The duke set a snifter in front of her, and a tumbler of what appeared to be whisky beside her, while the duchess set a similar glass at the empty chair beside her brother and a tankard in front of him. Thornley pulled out a chair for his wife, who, upon further and closer inspection, Lavinia thought might already be carrying his heir.
After taking a seat, Thornley raised his glass. “To the success of your enterprise.”
Everyone else lifted their glasses and sipped, although she couldn’t miss that Gillie hardly dampened her lips with her drink. Apparently, she’d brought the glass over simply to blend in, to make them feel comfortable.
“Does Collinsworth know about this venture of yours?” Thornley asked.
She shook her head. “No, and I’d rather you not tell him.”
“He’s worried, you know.”
“It’s more family pride than love, I suspect. He shouldn’t be worried. I write him weekly to let him know how well I’m faring.”
“I have to admit to being curious about how all this came to pass, you two teaming up for a venture.”
“It’s a rather long and frightfully boring story,” she admitted.
“While you tell him about it, I need to have a private word with my brother,” Gillie said. “Finn?”
He released a long, drawn-out sigh. “Whatever you have to say, Gillie, you can say here.”
“No, this really is very personal. Step outside with me for a moment. Please.”
She could see his hesitation as he looked at her, thought worry for her was his reason for denying his sister. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him.
Shoving back his chair, he stood and pointed a finger at Thornley. “Don’t upset her.”
She couldn’t imagine the duke had ever been ordered about by anyone. It seemed, however, that the Trewloves didn’t give much credence to rank. She watched as Finn followed his sister out into the night, trying not to remember another time when she’d watched him leave and he’d failed to return.
Thornley’s hand covering hers catapulted her back to the present. “I want to let your brother know that I’ve seen you and you are well.”
“Just don’t tell him where to find me. I’m not yet ready to face him or my mother. There’s a good deal about our family that you don’t know. Be glad things turned out as they did. You seem happy, much happier than you’d have been with me.”
“I wish you would tell me everything,” he said.
But to do that would destroy her.
“What are you thinking, Finn?”
Gillie’s question came as soon as they turned into the alleyway between the brick building that housed her tavern and one that housed an apothecary. Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned against the wall, grateful she hadn’t begun her inquisition on the street. “I need information she possesses.”
“Then pay her for it. Don’t make her a partner.”
“Too late.”
She shook her head forcefully and began pacing. “I shouldn’t have told you she was here.”
“She’s changed, Gillie. She’s different. She’s not the girl I once loved.”
She brought her pacing to an abrupt halt. “So you feel nothing for her?”
“I didn’t say that.” Lowering his gaze, he scuffed his boot against the ground, then lifted his head so he could meet her eyes. “She didn’t betray me, Gillie. And while I realize there is a great deal of pain in our past, I’m not willing to give her up without at least exploring the possibility of a future with her.” He produced a self-mocking smile. “She’s not as receptive to the notion, but I think I can win her over.”
; He saw the stubbornness in the set of her mouth. “If she hurts you, I’ll yank every strand of hair from her head.”
He laughed deeply, the sound filled with love. “You’re so fierce.” He sobered. “She is, too. More so than she was. I wasn’t the only one who suffered during the time we were apart. They broke her, too, and now she’s putting herself back together.”
“Broken things can break again.”
“Or they can become stronger, impenetrable.”
The Duke of Thornley shook his head. “I’d have never thought to look for you among Sisters of Mercy. To take shelter among them was a stroke of genius.”
Desperation, more like. She’d feared her brother might think to look for her in a shelter, and she hadn’t wanted to sleep on the streets. “I really am sorry, Thorne, for any embarrassment I might have caused you.”
“You’ve apologized before, and I told you then that I hold no ill will.” He grinned. “Besides, it all turned out in my favor.”
“Your mother must have been appalled by the notion of you marrying a tavern owner.”
“Gillie won her over, and in time, every member of the aristocracy will adore her as I do.”
“I have no—”
“Are ye a fairy?” A very sweet voice interrupted her.
Glancing over, she saw a young lad of seven or eight, and her heart gave a little lurch. His clothing appeared relatively new, his dark hair straight, his eyes even darker.
“Robin, you don’t interrupt when someone is speaking,” Thornley said. “If you must interrupt, then you beg their pardon.”
The boy scowled at the duke before turning his attention back to her. “Beggin’ yer pardon, miss. But are ye a fairy?”
She laughed lightly. “No. Why would you think that?”
“Because ye’re so pretty and . . .” He furrowed his brow. “Can’t explain it, but ye stand out, like ye’re glowing or somethink. ’N’ ye’re so very pretty.”
He seemed to be focused on her prettiness, although it had been a good long while since she’d felt pretty—inside or out. “So your name is Robin?”
He nodded with such force that his dark locks flapped against his forehead. “I lives here. I protects it. Until my mum comes. She’s a fairy.”
“Is she now?”
A quick bob of his head, and she wondered if he had expected her to know his mother. “And who is she?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. The duke here give me a book on animals. I like animals. Do ye?”
“I do. I once had a cat. It slept on my bed.”
“I feed the cats milk, but not too much. Don’t want ’em so full they won’t eat the rats.”
Her stomach roiled at that image. “That’s awfully sweet of you to care for them so much.”
“Hello, young Robin,” Finn said as he pulled out his chair and sat. He looked over at Thorne. “Gillie’s back at the bar, working.”
“I’d best join her, make sure she doesn’t overdo it,” Thornley said as he stood. “It was good to see you, Lavinia.”
“You, too.”
As he walked off, Robin sidled up next to Finn. “Ye got anythink for me, guv?”
“In two days, I should think, I’ll have some errands for you to run.” He ruffled the lad’s hair. “Now, off to bed with you.”
Robin glanced slyly over at her, then back at Finn. “Ye kissed her?”
“You’re a nosy one.”
“She’s pretty. Ye ought to kiss her.”
Finn grinned broadly. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now off with you.”
Robin gave her a little salute. “Night, miss.”
“Good night, Robin.”
He dashed off.
“He’s quite articulate. Seems to have mastered his hs.” She knew some of the lower class tended to lose them when speaking.
“That’s Gillie’s doing. She thinks it’s important for people to talk properly. I suspect next she’ll start working on his pronunciation of you.”
“Does he live here?” she asked Finn.
“In the kitchen.”
Horror swept through her. “That’s awful.”
He shrugged. “It’s where he wants to be. He’s convinced his mum will find him here. We took him to our children’s home, but he made his way back here, so Gillie keeps an eye on him and he runs errands for us.”
“Tell me about your children’s home. Would there be room there for any other children I might find?”
“There’s some room.”
“Do you think we’ll make enough and that my share will be such that I could purchase a home someday?”
“If things go as I hope they will, you can purchase several.”
Smiling, she lifted her brandy. “Then here’s to our outstanding success.”
Thorne lent them his carriage to return them home. Apparently, he kept it on hand to take him and his duchess to their London residence when the tavern closed up for the night, which wouldn’t be for a couple of more hours.
Home. The word echoed through her mind, bringing with it a hollowness. Not exactly the destination to which she was traveling. She was going to a business where she had rooms, and yet she couldn’t deny she felt more comfortable within those walls that smelled of Finn than she had ever felt at any of her family’s grand residences—whether in the country or in London. The furniture was certainly more comfortable than what the sisters had provided, but then they were more interested in comforting the soul. Yet in spite of their best efforts, hers still remained ragged and torn. But then perhaps it always would; perhaps there weren’t enough children in all of England to make a difference, to absolve her of the guilt.
“Do you ever think of your mother?” she asked quietly.
Although Finn had been sitting across from her, unmoving, she was aware of him going even more still. “Sometimes.”
“You still don’t know who she is?”
“No.”
“She no doubt thinks of you.” She looked out the window. “As word of your club—”
“Our club.”
He was as obstinate as he’d been in his youth, but still she couldn’t help the warmth that swept through her at his insistence it was theirs. “Our club spreads—and it will spread as there is nothing ladies like more than telling tales that enhance their reputation, and receiving an invitation to an exclusive secretive club will certainly be something to boast about—”
She laughed lightly. “It will appear innocent, of course. A whispered, ‘I didn’t see you at the Elysium Club,’ or ‘What are you going to wear to the club?’ Followed by, ‘Oh, did you not receive an invitation? Perhaps I can put in a word.’ And on and around it’ll go. Until there are more whispers about this elusive club. Even the men will hear about it. They might ask their mistresses if they know about the club where their wives are going.” She turned her attention back to him. “Your mother might hear of it, regardless of her station. She might even make an appearance, ask for a membership.”
“I very much doubt she knows who I am or anything at all about what became of me. For surely if she did, during all these years, I’d have had some word from her.”
Unless she’d died in childbirth. Or after. Perhaps she went mad with her child being taken from her. “Will you still not tell me who your father is?”
“He’s unimportant.”
“I wonder if he knew my father.”
“I suspect he did.”
“I wonder if they were friends.”
“Possibly.”
“I have a thousand questions I’d ask my father if he were still alive.”
“That would mean facing him.”
“Yes.” She looked back out the window. “I enjoyed going out tonight. I should like to do it again.”
“Then we shall.”
He made it seem so easy, as though there would be no consequences. She wondered how her mother had felt when her brother told her he’d called off the hounds. She didn’t trust her mother not to hire her own. “
Will you teach me to pick a lock?”
“If you have fears that they’ll lock you away again, know this, Vivi. If they do, I’ll come for you.” There was a vow, a promise, a determination in his voice that should have brought her comfort, peace, reassurance.
“But if they also lock you away? They’ve done that before as well.”
“Now my allies are stronger. My brothers have more wealth and influence. Mick has the support of the Duke of Hedley and married an earl’s daughter. My sister is a duchess, married to a powerful duke. And a few lords owe me for not breaking their bones when I came to collect monies owed. I’m not afraid of your family.”
She smiled softly. “I should have your confidence.”
“I think you do. You just don’t recognize it. My God, Vivi, you’ve risked your life on more than one occasion, traipsing about in the middle of the night.”
“My purpose outweighed my fear.”
The carriage came to a halt and a footman opened the door. Finn climbed out, then handed her down.
“We should still have some patrons being entertained,” he said. “Let’s go around to the back. I’m not in the mood to have the night ruined by any problems that might have arisen while we were gone.”
As they made their way inside and up the stairs at the rear of the building, she loved the way he kept his hand splayed firmly over the small of her back. The way he remained a half step behind her, providing her with a protective shelter. The manner in which he seemed in no hurry to escort her to her rooms.
“Where are you sleeping?”
“Where would you like me to sleep?” he asked, his voice low and seductive, his warm breath skimming over her ear as they reached the landing.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or smack him for ruining the spell under which he’d been placing her. “You said the rooms at this end weren’t furnished.”
“I lied.”
Coming to an abrupt halt, she faced him. “Why?”
The Scoundrel in Her Bed Page 22