“Fine,” the apprentice croaked. “Fine, who is it you are looking for?”
Gabriel smirked. “Lord Kerrington is a frequent gambler at the Spindle, and we’ve been told that all his bills are sent to a boarding house. I need the address of this boarding house.”
“Lord Kerrington?” the apprentice echoed. With an even paler face than before, he nodded, and his shaking hands gathered up the paperwork. He turned to a filing cabinet behind him, rooting through ledgers and files. “Here. They are sent to the Finchwood.”
“The Finchwood?” Lady Kerrington asked.
“A boarding house not far from here,” Gabriel supplied.
“The bills are addressed to Miss Catherine Tremaine,” the apprentice added, quickly returning to his desk. “That is all I can and will tell you.” Almost desperately, he eyed the coin purse before stuffing it into the top drawer. “Good luck, Madam.”
Gabriel and Lady Kerrington both nodded and walked out, leaving the harried man to his work.
Gabriel gave the Finchwood’s address to his driver, clambered inside after Lady Kerrington, and sighed, pinching the bridge ofhis nose. Through the dark streets they rode, and he couldn’t help but speak about their destination.
“The Finchwood is one of London’s most popular boarding houses near the docks,” he revealed. “It’s known for the stream of women who frequent it. It’s one of the safest places for lone female travelers and boarders, but enough seedy dealings take place in its halls. Be prepared; if your husband is involved with a woman from this boarding house, it won’t be… pleasant.”
“I do not care,” Lady Kerrington answered tightly. “I do not care where my husband rests his head at night, whether it is Kerrington House or otherwise. I only care about the fact that he promised to provide for my daughter and me, and now he has broken that promise. I deserve to drag him back to the townhouse to have the security he promised me.”
Gabriel only stared at her, his eyes tracing every line of her face, wondering what sort of man would leave his wife behind evening after evening.
No woman deserved to be left wondering if she was truly safe, but Lady Kerrington looked so young against the dark carriage window, her face illuminated by the lamp above the door.
Gabriel thought about how much she had faced; he understood why the risks mattered to her.
When he said nothing, she spoke again, her tone haughty. “Does bribery come to you naturally, Your Grace?”
She turned her head towards him, looking insulted.
He narrowed his eyes at her, his jaw working. “You have a funny way of showing gratitude, Lady Kerrington.”
At that, she sighed, and her shoulders slumped against the bench. “Thank you.”
“It is only fair,” he said mildly. “After all, this woman we are about to meet is likely your husband’s mistress.”
He was aware of how detached he sounded, how callous, but Lady Kerrington only clenched her jaw and said nothing. There was no outburst, no protest, yet a fire still burned in her eyes.
He thought of her anger over her lack of security. But did she really not care if her husband took a mistress?
Gabriel shifted, drawing her attention again. His eyes dropped to her mouth, a place he could not quite pry his focus from ever since he had first let himself look in the parlor.
Her lips were soft, pink, and he found himself wondering how they would taste.
“If you were mine, My Lady,” he murmured, his tone as intimate as the light in the carriage, “I would never need another woman in my bed.”
Lady Kerrington’s face flushed, and her mouth moved as though she could not quite find her voice. Gabriel could have sworn she shuddered, and the corner of his mouth quirked up.
He opened his mouth to continue when the carriage drew to a halt, and the driver knocked on the door.
“We have arrived.”
“If you were mine…”
Despite her best efforts to focus on the pretty boarding house in front of her, lights flickering in many windows on the several stories that rose into the night, Sibyl could not quite push the Duke’s voice out of her mind.
How velvety it had sounded, like the most expensive material draping over her skin indulgently. It had wrapped around her with the promise—or perhaps it could not be called that, for she was a married woman, and the Duke was a stranger.
She had to keep her wits about her, even if his voice and intense gaze made her feel so deliciously warm.
