“Of course it’s not,” Linda replied easily. “And Linda’s not mine. We don’t use our given names here unless they’re very pretty.”
“Oh.” The explanation satisfied Kenna.
“That’s it. Lie down.” Linda arranged Kenna’s gown prettily. The skirt had been split so the length of one bare leg could be seen.
Kenna fingered the soft material, little knowing in hours it would be in shreds about her body. “’S very nice.”
“Yes. It is.”
Katie came in the room somewhat breathless from her run up the stairs. She glanced about the walls, padded with heavy tapestries and grimaced. “God, how I hate this room! Mrs. Miller wants to know if Diana’s ready. She’s fairly frothing at the mouth to let Tremont at her. Diana shouldn’t have attacked her.”
“I hardly think she knew what she was doing.” Linda bound Kenna’s wrists together and tied them overhead. “Is that bastard waiting for her?”
“He hasn’t arrived yet. Come, we should go.”
Linda bent over Kenna and brushed her forehead with her mouth. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”
Kenna smiled a trifle dreamily and said nothing at all.
Linda and Katie could not leave the chamber quickly enough. They nearly collided with the madam in the hallway.
“Everything is in readiness, girls?” They nodded simultaneously. “Good. His lordship will be here any moment. In fact, he’s a little late. No matter, he’s paying dearly for this evening. Everything I paid for our stubborn Amazon and more besides. Even if she doesn’t make it through this evening, I’ve recouped my loss.” And my pride, she thought, paying no attention to the drawn faces of her girls.
Linda and Katie exchanged pained glances. Mrs. Miller was as good as giving license to Tremont to kill Diana. The knowledge weighed heavily upon them but they were helpless.
Mrs. Miller opened her mouth to speak again when a commotion below stairs drew her attention. “What in God’s name is going on down there?” She hurried to the top of the stairs and what she saw taking place in her drawing room had her rushing down.
Katie and Linda bumped into her when she stopped abruptly at the foot of the stairs and she had to grasp the newel post to keep her balance. One of her carefully arranged curls came loose from the pins and flopped against her ear.
“She looks much like a basset hound I once had, don’t you think, Lord Tremont?” Polly asked gaily, nudging the ribs of her companion. “That poor dog had but one ear also.”
Lord Tremont chuckled appreciatively, leaning heavily on Polly’s arm. Surrounding him were six other girls from the Flower House, all in a state of attractive dishabille in spite of the cold temperature outside. “Let down t’other curl, Betty, and you’ll look like the bassetIonce had!”
Mrs. Miller cringed visibly at the familiar use of her name. She stamped her foot hard against the step, demanding quiet, and received another gale of laughter as a sausage curl fell over her other ear. The humiliation was not to be borne. “What areyoudoing here?” she demanded, glaring at Polly.
Polly’s eyes widened innocently as some of Mrs. Miller’s customers deserted the corners of the room to be part of the revelry. They gathered around Polly’s girls and were greeted with a great deal of billing and cooing. “Yer ’eart, Betty. Think of yer ’eart. We was only ’aving a bit o’ fun with ’is lordship. Weren’t we, luv? Quite lost his way, he did. The poor dear.”
“Didn’t,” Lord Tremont said, lifting a glass of whisky to his lips.
“Did.”Polly insisted sweetly between clenched teeth.
“S’all right. I did.”
“There, you see, Betty, he did lose his way.” She dropped her accent and picked up her aitches. “Quite thought my house was yours. Though how he could make such a mistake doesn’t bear thinking. I shall have to do something about the trim and the fence. Look, I’ve brought him back to you. I wouldn’t want you to think I was stealing your business.”
“He’s foxed,” said Mrs. Miller tersely.
The young lord agreed. “Quite.”
“I’m afraid he arrived this way, which possibly accounts for his confusion in the matter of establishments. He kept insisting he had an appointment with a young goddess.”
“Diana,” offered Tremont helpfully, taking an unsteady step toward the stairs. “Want to see Diana.”
“Since I don’t have anyone by that name I assumed he meant to come here. Have I the right place?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Miller snapped. “Katie. Linda. Help his lordship upstairs. Get out of here, Polly. You’re not welcome.”
“Oh.” She feigned disappointment. “How cruel of you. And after I extended myself.” She waved to her girls. “I must be going, ladies. Don’t be late.”
