He took hold of her hands. Removed them from his person.
"Not today," he said.
Bloody hell... mayhap not ever again.
17
Friday evening,Gavin paced the length of his suite as he awaited Percy's arrival. He'd given into Stewart's relentless nagging about not taking "unnecessary risks" and arranged for her to be brought here for their second meeting. It was for the better. In his own territory, he would not have to contend with outside distractions.
Tonight, he meant to seal the deal and seduce Percy. Days ago, he'd found himself ending things with Evangeline because a meaningless tup no longer appealed. He wanted something else, something more. Something he could only have with Percy. Anticipation simmered as he heard the sound of approaching voices.
Davey came in first. Free of bruises now and looking much like any other adolescent beanpole, the boy held a lumpy bag in hand. Percy followed behind, and though his pulse quickened at the sight of her, Gavin frowned. What was the bloody thing she was wearing on her head? It was a hideous shade of green and resembled a dead animal. A bird, maybe. It hid all of her gorgeous hair and for that reason alone deserved to be incinerated.
"Davey, would you mind putting my things..."—scanning the room, Percy pointed to the chair—"over there, if you please?"
The boy almost tripped over himself in his eagerness to do as she bade. "Anyfin' else, miss?"
"No, thank you," she said. "But I'm so glad we had a chance to chat."
Chat?What on earth had she and an orphan from the gutters to talk about? Besides, the boy was not what one would call a conversationalist. With Gavin, he spoke only when spoken to; when asked about what had happened at his last place of work, he became silent as a clam. Understanding the desire to shut out the past, Gavin had stopped prying about the boy's abuser.
Though perhaps what he ought have done was put Percy in the role of interrogator. From the looks of it, if she asked Davey to jump, the boy would somersault into the air. As Gavin had long suspected, the chit had a disconcerting effect on the males of the species—and apparently age offered no protection against her charm.
"This is for you, Davey. I hope to hear good news the next time I see you," she said brightly.
The boy's eyes grew as large as the coin she handed him. With a moonstruck expression, he stammered, "Th-thank you, miss. I'll not forget your advice."
"That is all for now, Davey," Gavin said shortly. "Close the door behind you."
The boy left, taking Percy's smile with him. Tension filled the room as she took stock of the private chambers and assiduously avoided Gavin's gaze. He'd had the sitting room set up for seduction. Beeswax candles flickered in silver holders; crimson roses bloomed in crystal vases. A cloth-covered table sat ready for an intimate supper for two.
"What were you and Davey talking about?" he said.
"Oh, this and that." Percy wandered over to the table, looked it over. "Mostly I was giving him some pointers on love."
"On love?" Gavin scoffed. "He's a boy, for Christ's sake. He has better things to fill his head with than such nonsense."
"Be that as it may, he has quite the crush on the milkmaid." Percy's cheeks took on an apple-sweet curve. "Her name is Nan. She has red hair and freckles on her nose."
"He's wasting his time on rubbish," Gavin said. "He needs to build himself up, prove himself a man. Hard work and self-discipline—that's the ticket for the boy."
"Is that what you were doing at that tender age?" she asked innocently.
At thirteen, he'd been living in the hulks amongst criminals and vermin. He'd given and received beatings in equal measure. On a good day, he'd escaped the guards' violent whips and had a crust of stale bread in his growling belly. The bad days... he didn't care to remember those.
All because of Morgan. Stay focused.
"Suffice it to say," he said in grim tones, "I was planning for the future, not mooning over some wench. I'll have a word with Davey and set him straight."
Percy came nearer, her eyes searching his face. "Why is it that you have such compassion for children? According to Davey, you've given him food, shelter, the skills of a trade—and he's not the only one. It would seem that you're the benefactor of many an unfortunate orphan."
His cravat seemed to tighten. He didn't like the gentle expression in her gaze. He did not need her pity—anymore than the children did.
"I'm no soft touch, if that's what you're thinking," he said flatly. "Anyone who works for me earns their keep. If they don't, they get tossed out on their arses."
She continued to study him, head tipped to the side. "Tit for tat—that's your philosophy?"
"In my world, it's called justice. Nothing comes for free, and anyone who owes me will pay." Deliberately, he added, "I'd have thought you understood that by now."
