“It’s a lady. Came through the back and dressed in black, she is—and veiled like a bloody apparition.” Tim shuddered. “Scared the bejesus out o’ Cook and the kitchen maids.”
Hope seized Andrew.Don’t be a fool. Primrose would never come here, would never want to see you again now that she knows who you are.
“Send her in.” The footman left, and Andrew said to Fanny, “We’ll talk later.”
The bawd took her sweet time gathering her things. The door opened, and Andrew forgot all about her as Primrose swept in, taking center stage. Her slender form was cloaked head to toe in black, lace veiling her face, yet he’d know her anywhere. She lifted the heavy veil, revealing the golden jade eyes that haunted his every waking and sleeping moment.
He strode over to her. Staring into her exquisite oval face, he thought he must be dreaming. He lifted a hand to touch her cheek—as smooth and silky as he remembered. Real.
“What are you doing here, sunshine?” he said hoarsely.
“I had to see you.” Primrose’s voice trembled.
A foreign emotion leapt in his chest. It took him an instant to recognize it as joy.
“Ahem.”
The indiscreet throat clearing from behind him brought reality crashing back. Hell, he and Primrose weren’t alone. He turned to Fanny, deliberately blocking Primrose from the other’s view.
“You were just leaving,” he said curtly.
“Was I?” Fanny inquired.
Before he could march the other out, Primrose peered around him. “Who’s she?”
He would be damned if he introduced her to a madam. “No one to concern—”
“I am Mrs. Fanny Argent. I work with Corbett.” The bawd gave Primrose a once-over, her brows lifting. “Who are you?”
Primrose stiffened. Before Andrew knew what was happening, the two women were facing one another, their expressions reflecting mutual animosity.
“I am a friend of Mr. Corbett’s,” Primrose said, her chin lifting. “Not that it is your place to inquire about his affairs as you are a mere… employee.”
The glance she raked over the bawd’s working attire made Andrew wince. Clearly, she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion and assumed Fanny was one of the wenches.
“Forgive me.” The dangerous glitter in Fanny’s eyes belied her apology. “Due to mycloseworking relationship with Corbett here, I see so many of his hoity-toity friendsthat it can be difficult to sort out who is who.”
Color flooded Primrose’s cheeks.
Enough is enough.He said sharply, “Be off with you, Fanny.”
The bawd smirked and sailed out. Andrew shut the door, locking it.
The instant he turned, Primrose burst out, “Who is she?”
“She works for me.” He couldn’t take his eyes off Primrose, couldn’t believe that she was standing in front of him. In his club—wait. What thehellwas she thinking? “You shouldn’t be here. Your reputation—”
“Is she your lover?”
He blinked. “Who…you meanFanny?”
Primrose gave a fierce little nod. She was… jealous? While, normally, he avoided possessive females like the plague, the idea of Primrose feeling that way about him filled him with tenderness.
He touched her cheek. “No, she isn’t. She manages several of my clubs.”
“You mean she’s a... procurer?” Primrose’s golden lashes swept up.
“Yes. Like me,” he forced himself to add.
