Rubey had moved to the window. She left the curtains and windowpane open wide, but closed the shutters, leaving only a fraction of the sunshine sliding through the top half of the opening. The room was still well illuminated by the day, but the warmth was gone.
“Oh,” Angelica said in dismay, her attention turning to the other woman. “Why did you do that?”
“It’s safer,” Voss replied, stepping farther into the chamber. “We must take no chances Moldavi’s men might glimpse you through the window.”
A spike of fear jolted her. “Do you think they’ve followed us? Or know where you’ve taken me?”
“I suspect they haven’t, for they didn’t know you were with me when we left Sterlinghouse last evening. But I intend to take no chances with you and your safety, Miss Woodmore.” His eyes settled on her as he smiled slowly. “Not at all.”
Standing by the window, Rubey made a soft sound that could have been mistaken for a snort, but Angelica wasn’t certain. Thewoman eyed Voss with a raised brow, and he merely turned his charming smile onto her.
“Now, Rubey.” There was affection in his voice—something that Angelica hadn’t noticed when he spoke toher—and also a bit of warning. “You give me too little credit.”
“And a lie that is, to be sure. I give you more credit than you deserve,” she replied, folding her arms over her middle. For the first time, Angelica noticed a bit of Irish lilt in her voice. “And it lightens me coffers more than I care to admit.”
“But Rubey,” he said, his voice still easy, “you know I’m good for it.” His voice lowered and Angelica felt a little responsive shiver in her belly.
“That you are, which is why I keep you around. But a little slow on the settling up. After this”—she gestured abruptly at Angelica and moved toward Voss—“I expect your account to be settledmostgenerously.” Then, to Angelica’s shock, she poked him in the chest with her finger, just below the loose neckcloth.
Voss didn’t seem to care. “I am always generous,” he told her in that low, nearly purring voice that made Angelica vacillate between warmth and annoyance. He was fairly ignoring her and quite clearly flirting with this woman.
She didn’t like it at all.
Rubey gave a little huff of laughter that ended on a low note. “Indeed,” she added in a more husky tone. “When you are finished here, I’ll expect you to see to all of it.”
She glanced briefly at Angelica to say, “I’ll send clothing up for you shortly. And a maid.” And then she left the chamber, closing the door in her wake.
For a moment, Angelica sat stunned and speechless. She was alone in a bedchamber, clothed in little more than a thin shift,with a man.
With Voss.
He turned to look at her, but before she could speak, he gave a little smile. “Ah, yes. Propriety.” To her relief, he opened the door, leaving it more than halfway ajar.
“Thank you,” she said, fumbling her hands over the top of the puckered coverlet. The thing that frightened her most was that the idea of being alone in the bedchamber with Vossdidn’tfrighten her, or concern her. In fact, the thought was more than a bit alluring.
Standing near the door’s corner, against the wall, he nevertheless seemed to fill the room, his shoulders wide and solid against feminine wallpaper. Though he remained near the darker side of the room, his skin picked up a hint of the golden glow of sunlight. Thick hair, the color of her old ginger cat, streaked with all shades of bronze and honey caught by the light, had been combed back neatly and rose above his high forehead. Yet its very color and the hint of untamed waves near his ears and throat suggested something less staid and proper lurking beneath.
The sensual little curl at one side of his mouth contributed to that lack of propriety…along with the fact that his neckcloth hung loosely knotted from the opening of his shirt. The shallow V of golden skin and the hollow of his throat she found fascinating, and more than a bit disturbing as her imagination ran to places it had never been.
“Angelica.”
Her gaze flew to his and the expression she saw there made her insides plunge.Oh.
“If you persist in looking at me like that, I’m going to close the door again,” he said in a voice that tempted her to ask him to do so.
Heat rushed to her cheeks and Angelica caught her breath, aware of a sudden, very pleasant tightening in her insides. Whatif he did? What if he came to sit on the edge of the bed—no. That was outside of proper. She swallowed.
As if to put a distance between himself and that enticement, Voss stepped away from the opening and sat on an upholstered stool in front of a small dressing table. His long legs were bent up a bit and, sitting amid lace and glass, he appeared more out of his element than she’d ever seen him…Yet with him there was no real awkwardness. He wore no coat, but the crisp white sleeves of his shirt and the intricate pattern on his waistcoat detracted from the pink and yellow florals surrounding him.
Angelica decided she should be relieved that he’d taken a seat so far from her. “Where are we? And who is Rubey? Is she your…sister?”
Her cheeks warmed when he gave a short little laugh. “No, indeed, Rubey is not my sister.”
Angelica drew herself up a bit and pulled the coverlet higher. “I suspected not,” she added in what she thought of as her Maia voice. “I was simply giving you the benefit of the doubt. She is a proprietress of some sort, I suppose. Is this her home?”
A suspicion had begun to form during Voss’s exchange with Rubey, wherein Angelica realized she was missing some of the underlying meaning of their words. She didn’t know much about the demimonde or the sorts of women who would become a man’s mistress, but the way Rubey had looked at Voss and the ease of manner between them—along with the very low line of her bodice—made her wonder. She’d spoken of services and of settling accounts…Angelica became more suspicious.
“Rubey owns the place,” Voss told her. “One of several, in fact. She’s agreed to let you stay here until I can make other arrangements.”
