Tenacious Trents 03 - A Reluctant Rake (25 page)

“Mr. Jordan Trent would like to call on
you this afternoon, Uncle.”

Her aunt and uncle shared a look that
was anything but relief. This did not bode well.

“Is it a matter of urgency?”

Urgency? “No.”

Her aunt visibly relaxed.

“He said he wishes to marry
me.”

“I would certainly hope so,” her uncle
declared.

“I’ve noticed that you have spent a
good deal of time with him, Audrey,” her aunt said.

They hadn’t spent that much time in
each other’s company. Had they somehow learned about yesterday in
the carriage? No, something would have been said to her, unless the
driver reported back to uncle that Trent was a passenger on the
return.

“And he does have a reputation,” she
continued. “We feared—”.

“—
Never mind what we
feared,” her uncle interrupted. “I’ll be happy to speak with Trent
when he calls.”

Other than their concern, Audrey still
didn’t know what her uncle would tell him. Did she dare
ask?

Oh, she had to or she would worry all
day. “What will you tell him?”

A slow smile formed on his lips. “That
all depends on how he answers my questions.”

That did not bode well. What if Trent
said something wrong? What if Uncle demanded a history, though the
gossips could provide that as well?

“Then I will have to write to your
father, of course.”

She sighed. Yes, her papa would need to
be consulted but who knew when that answer would come. It was
racing season. Would he even take time to read the letter let alone
respond? She could still be waiting for the answer when the Season
ended.

Audrey would just have to make sure she
wrote to her mother as well. If anything, the woman would be
thrilled at the match and not give Papa rest until he
responded.

“I will await your answer.” What else
could she say? She was a lady and had no control. It really was
rather unfair.

Jordan waited in a small parlor off of
the main room. He had only been in this particular room a few
times. It was usually used for small planned gatherings or private
meetings. The settee was covered in white with gold thread
embroidery while the matching chairs were upholstered in gold. The
room was painted a light cream color in contrast to the dark wood
of the furniture and floor. He paced, ready to be done with his
work and return home. Though the furniture looked inviting, he had
stiffened upon the short ride from his home. He didn’t dare sit
again until necessary.

The house was eerily quiet. Not that
there would be much noise at this time of day. No doubt most of the
girls were still sleeping from the late night of work. Hopefully he
hadn’t woken Madame Devine by calling so early, but he wanted this
business out of the way.

There were whispers beyond the open
door but Jordan could not make out the words. Did the servants
spend their day in quiet so as not to disturb the ladies of the
house? Certainly they couldn’t hear what was happening below all
the way up in their chambers.

Madame Devine sailed into the room a
moment later. Her hair was pulled back, not yet arranged for the
evening or guests. She wore none of her usual rouge or kohl. In
fact, her skin was deathly white and her eyes and mouth were
drawn.

“What is wrong?”

She closed her eyes and simply shook
her head.

Perhaps it had simply been a busy
night.

“Do you have the papers?”

Madame Devine was usually not so
brisk.

“They are still being prepared.” He
reached into his inside pocket and withdrew the deed. “I wished to
give you this.” He glanced back at the open door. “Will Angelique
be joining us?”

“No,” Lady Devine answered and sank
into a chair. She bent her elbow on the arm of the chair for
support and rested her forehead into her raised hand.

Jordan sat without being invited and
grasped Lady Devine’s other hand, his gut churning. Something was
terribly wrong. “What happened?”

She lifted her gaze to his. “When
Angelique went out yesterday someone attacked her in the back
alley.”

The brothel wasn’t in the best part of
London, but women are usually not assaulted in the middle of the
day. “How badly was she hurt?” he asked, his voice sounding far
away.

“Her face.” Tears sprang to Madame
Devine’s eyes. “He took a knife and slashed her face. He said she
should remember her place and not to usurp her betters.”

A chill went down his spine. First Lady
Rothsbury and now Angelique? Were the two connected? It couldn’t be
possible. Neither knew the other. But, they both knew him. Why
would someone hurt the ladies he was fond of? It had to simply be a
coincidence because he had no enemies that would commit such a
heinous act. But if it was because of something he did could Audrey
be in danger. As much as he didn’t wish to discuss brothels with
her uncle this afternoon, Jordan knew he would have to tell him so
that Audrey could be protected. “Did you report it to Bow
Street?”

Madame Devine nodded and sniffed.
Jordan drew out his handkerchief and handed it to her.

“Will she be okay?” Jordan
pressed.

“In time.” Madame Devine dabbed her
eyes. “But she can’t work until her face is healed and even then.”
Her eyes met his. “It is the beautiful women who bring in the
customers and now this monster has scarred her.”

Jordan squeezed Madame’s hand. “Assure
Angelique that it will not matter. There are many gentlemen who
adore her, if they are not in love with her. They may have been
drawn to her beauty at first, but that is not what kept them
returning.”

A sad smile formed on Madame’s lips.
“She will be glad to hear that.”

“Besides, did she intend on working in
such a way after she became owner?” Jordan would have thought
Angelique would no longer have a need to make a living on her
back.

Madame Devine chuckled. “We never
totally give up the profession. There will always be a few
gentlemen we will never be able to decline.”

If he weren’t committed to being
respectable, and if he were not courting Audrey, Jordan would have
made every effort to visit Angelique and assure her that she
remained desirable despite what scars she may be left
with.

“If not the agreement, what did you
bring us?”

For a moment Jordan had completely
forgotten about the deed. “I purchased the property before Jester
could.”

Madame Devine straightened and truly
smiled for the first time since she entered the room. “That is
marvelous.” She paused and studied him, her eyes narrowed. “Unless
you plan on raising the rent.”

He barked out laughter. “No. Quite the
opposite.” He handed her the deed. “I am giving it to
Angelique.”

Her mouth dropped open and she unfolded
the document. “Why? This is far too generous a gift.”

“Not after everything you and Angelique
have done for me.”

She playfully tapped him on the
shoulder with the document. “I recall you paid well for what
Angelique has done for you.”

Heat infused his cheeks. “It is
something I wish to do.” He wasn’t even sure if he could explain
why he was giving the property to Angelique, he just needed
to.

“Thank you,” Madame said quietly. “At
least this will be one matter she will no longer worry
about.”

Jordan stood, his upper thighs
protesting at the moment. He clenched his jaw and tried not to
groan. “Take care, Madame.”

She put a hand out and
grasped his arm. “If you find yourself
alone
,” she winked. “Whatever you
wish for will be here.” She grasped the document to her bosom. “On
the house.”

Had this happened five years ago,
Jordan would have made it a point to make a nightly visit. However,
that part of his life was over and the only bed he will be enjoying
is the one he planned to share with Audrey.

Jordan made his way toward the door. In
a matter of hours this place would be filled with rakes, dandies,
gentlemen and all manner of men, wishing for an hour or two with
one of the lovely ladies upstairs and a sense of peace came over
him, as if he had finally closed the door on a life he did not
want.

It was a fine day and he loathed to
enter the closed carriage once again. Standing on the stoop he
looked around. Day or night Covent Gardens was busy. The
coffeehouses seemed to be full and the little shops were doing a
fine business today. Instead of retreating into the darkness,
Jordan turned toward the Piazza.

It was only a few blocks away and when
he stepped into the thriving flower and vegetable market the scents
of various blossoms permeated the air as did the smell of fresh,
ripe vegetables. They were all from hot houses because of the time
of year, yet Jordan still closed his eyes and inhaled through his
nose. What he needed was a bouquet for Audrey. He hadn’t given her
one gift yet and a gentleman should at least do that on the day he
asked for her hand in marriage.

He made his way down the line of
vendors trying to decide if roses or daisy’s suited her best. Or
perhaps tulips or lilies. He didn’t even know her favorite flower,
or color, or scent, or season. There was still much to learn about
his future wife but the first thing he would find out was what her
favorite stone was so he could have it fitted into a perfect
betrothal ring.

His favorite color on her was blue so
perhaps he should choose it himself. But should he purchase an
aquamarine or sapphire?

Perhaps he should also purchase blue
flowers.

Jordan stopped in the middle of the
market and looked about. There weren’t many blue flowers and most
were closer to lavender or purple. He frowned. Perhaps a mixture,
of all colors under the sun. Yes, that was what he would do. He
took a step forward and was brought up short. The face on the
opposite side of the stand was so familiar yet he knew he did not
know her.

He studied her as she gathered flowers
and added them to the packages she was already carrying. She was
the image of Adele. He knew it couldn’t be Adele since the woman
would be near forty but the young woman across from him had the
same light blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair. She was almost the
exact image of the painting of Adele hanging in the family gallery.
“Julia?”

Audrey was convinced time had slowed to
a standstill. Each time she looked at the clock, certain it was an
hour later, only a few moments had passed. She watched out the
front window as carriages drove by and residents strolled the
square without a care in the world. She wished she could be so at
ease but she still didn’t know what her uncle would say, or
Papa.

What if they declined his request? What
if her Papa determined he wanted her to marry someone else? What if
Jordan changed his mind?

Oh, all of this thinking was getting
her nowhere. She blew out a puff of air. She couldn’t remain here a
moment longer. The room seemed as if it was closing in on her and
she would need her aunt’s smelling salts before Jordan ever
arrived. Audrey glanced back at the clock. That was at least five
hours from now. With a groan she sank into a chair. Reading a book
would be impossible. How could she concentrate on a story? Nothing
was so riveting that it would hold her attention.