“Aye.”
“Is it love?” There was no missing the sarcasm in the question.
“Hardly,” she shot back. The reply was surprisingly difficult to speak.
Doyle tapped his forefinger to his mouth. “I saw the way he looked at ye.”
“You’re mistaken.”
Doyle snorted. “Ye could run circles ’round that lord and rob him blind and he would ne’er notice. That’s how he looks at ye.”
Hortense shrugged. She wouldn’t give Doyle the satisfaction of rising to his words.
“Yer gonna stay married to him?”
“Doubtful.” Which was only true.
“Ye and me, Hortense, we could rule o’er London town.”
And another lightning bolt struck her. “It was me you wanted all along.” His reptilian smile only confirmed it. “But why? I’ve paid my taxes.”
“I want more of ye, pet.Allof ye.”
She felt suddenly winded. “I will not be your mistress.” The very idea brought sick up her throat.
Doyle looked genuinely affronted. “What do ye take me fer? An old lecher?”
Best to steer the conversation back in the other direction. Still, no small amount of relief coursed through her. “I’ll agree, but only if you let the boy go. Free and clear.”
Doyle sucked his teeth. “Now, how can I trust ye’ll follow through?”
“I’m a woman of my word.”
Skeptical eyebrows lifted. “Oh? Ye didn’t tell me ’bout yer dealin’s with that nob ye brought in. Makes me wonder what else ye be holdin’ back.”
He had her there. “What surety do you need from me?”
Doyle allowed a few beats of time to tick past. “His ring.”
“Pardon?”
“All those nobs got a fancy ring,” he continued. “A ring that says they’re more important than the rest of us. Ye bring me his.”
Doyle wanted Clare’s signet ring. Now that she thought about it, she’d never seen Clare wear it and hadn’t the faintest idea where it was. But, no matter. She could figure out the details later.
“What’s to stop him from calling the watch on me when he discovers it gone?”
Doyle snorted. “Call the watch on his wifey fer thievery? That would be right humiliatin’ fer a nob. Ye see men, and ’specially nobs, they don’t take too well to humiliation of the public variety. He won’t breathe a word of it, ye kin be sure.”
The truth rang through Doyle’s words. There was only one thing left for her to do. She nodded her assent.
Doyle spit into his hand and extended it. After a repulsed hesitation, Hortense did the same and shook hands. It was a bargain sealed. The real bargain. The one he’d been after all along.
“You’ll have it after I get the tiara and you hand over Rafe.”
Doyle nodded, and she turned on her heel.
“Once a eel, always a eel,” he called after her, the words following her up the stairs and haunting her step across London and into her bed.
