He was relieved that Tobias had insisted on staying at the town house. He was going to have enough problems getting his young card-playing companion out of here. At the moment, he had no idea how he was going to get both of them back downstairs to the kitchen.
Elyse turned at the sound of the door opening as she heard sounds from the hallway. But the figure that emerged from the shadows was not Fatima.
Elyse stared at the tall man with fair hair, slightly too long, hanging over his elegant collar. A swath of black eye-patch slashed his face. It was St. James!
"I told you this evening would be special, Elyse," he remarked wryly.
Her mouth fell open at the sound of her name. "How did you know?"
His expression was amused. "As charming as I'm certain the young women would have found you in that disguise, there are vast differences between men and women. No matter how you tried to disguise your walk or flatten your breasts," he gestured to her jacket front. "There are still differences. You, my dear, have a very nice bottom. I remember it well, from our little ride the other day. And there is that other thing."
What other thing? she wondered as she took a step back in an attempt to leave. He reached out, fingers closed over her wrist in easy restraint. Then he seized her by both shoulders.
"Let me go!" Elyse protested then gasped as she caught sight of her reflection in the large mirror. The mustache she'd worn, lost, and then hastily reattached was upside down!
"Oh."
"Is that all you have to say?"
The long evening, the brandy, Fatima, and now this. She could think only of how ridiculous she must look with that mustache. And Jerrold hadn't noticed?
The giggling began as she turned back around to inspect the mustache.
"It was a good disguise."
"You can compliment yourself later," Zach told her. He reached up and pulled the mustache from her upper lip.
She cursed him as her eyes watered and the skin above her lip reddened.
"Such language, but I think you'll survive," Zach informed her, and then, because he couldn't resist, he bent over and kissed her, slowly and thoroughly, then seized her by the hand, and pulled her toward the door amid loud protests.
At first too surprised to react, she quickly recovered. "What about Fatima?" she snickered, then rubbed the tender skin above her lip.
"Shouldn't we wait for her?" she added sarcastically.
He fixed her with that maddening gaze: "Were you thinking of a threesome?" he quipped with a trace of irritation. "Sorry to disappoint you, but Fatima's already left and we're about to have other company, if I don't get you out of here first."
"Who?" She had no idea what he was talking about.
"The London constabulary. It seems there's someone here they'd like very much to take in."
"What are you talking about?" Elyse started past him, only to have herself flattened against the inside wall.
"This is not a game." He looked at her hard. "It seems Barrington wasn't here all evening."
She looked up. She didn't trust him for a moment, but she was aware that Jerrold had been conspicuously absent during a good part of the evening.
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about a bit of trouble down at the docks. It seems a certain young lady of questionable reputation managed to get herself killed tonight," he informed her.
"What has that to do with Jerrold?" The laughter was now gone from Elyse's voice. But no matter how angry she was at Jerrold, she didn't see how he could be connected to such a thing.
Zach watched for her reaction. "It seems the girl wasn't quite dead when her attacker finished with her. She was unable to provide a description of the man, a rich gentleman."
An uneasy feeling slipped down Elyse's spine. My god, it wasn't possible that Jerrold had anything to do with that. Was it?
"The authorities are here. It seems they have proof the man who killed the girl was a member of this club. They intend to question everyone."
