Charles slid off the bed and, turning his back to her, approached the bellpull. She let out a low cry, and when he turned, he caught a flicker of disgust in her eyes before the veneer of false seduction once more gleamed in them.
“That mark on your back,” she said. “What happened? Are you perhaps a hero from Waterloo?”
He wrinkled his nose in a sneer.
Yes, because in battle, an army always prefers to use whips instead of guns or swords.
She stared at his hands as he signed, confusion in her gaze.
“What are you doing?”
He gestured to the door once more, then pulled the cord over the fireplace. Within a suspiciously short space of time, a knock came on the door, then John opened it.
Get rid of the woman.
John knew better than to argue. He nodded to the doxy.
“My master’s done, miss,” he said.
“But you paid for the whole night,” she whined petulantly. “You’re not expecting me to return my fee, even if your master couldn’t—”
She broke off as Charles drove his fist into his palm with a sharp slap. Then he motioned to John.
Get the slut out before I throw her out myself. Give her an extra sovereign for her trouble—and her silence.
“Very good, sir.”
The doxy moved her gaze from Charles to his valet and back, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Tell her that if she breathes a word of what she saw, I’ll hunt her down and toss her into the river.
John had no need to translate. The doxy’s eyes widened in fear as Charles plucked her discarded gown from the floor and held it out. She reached for it and slipped it on, securing a sash about her waist. Then the fear was replaced by greed as the valet fished a coin out of his pocket.
“For your discretion,” John said. “We may require your services again…”
No, we fucking well won’t.
Ignoring Charles’s signing, John continued, “Therefore, it’s in your interests to maintain the discretion that your profession is noted for.”
She sidled up to John, her eyes gleaming with seduction, then palmed the coin. “You’re a right proper gentleman, Mr. Richards,” she said, all trace of faux-Italian accent now gone. “I’ll be happy to accommodateyouanytime. What do you say?”
“I say that it’s time for you to go.”
“Very well,” she said, pouting. “But you know where to find me.”
She eyed Charles, dipped into a curtsey, then let John escort her out.
By the time John returned, Charles had stripped the sheets from the bed and dropped them in a bundle beside the door. The valet arched his eyebrows.
“Fancy yourself as a chambermaid, sir?”
Charles frowned, and John raised his hands in appeasement.
“Very well,” he said. “I take it the woman was not to your satisfaction?”
She satisfied me well enough, but I’ve no wish to have a woman in my bed longer than necessary.
“A pity,” John said. “She’s known to be very accomplished, both in giving pleasure and in teaching men of limited experience how topleasure women.”
