He shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.” He leaned forward as if imparting a secret. “You see, we didn’t part on the best of terms.” He shrugged. “But I’m a helpless suitor who refuses to give up when I’ve found a true prize.”
“Aww. That’s awful sweet o’ you.” She leaned forward in return, lowering her voice slightly. “But you migh’ be too late to win ’er hand. She’s goin’ on auction this very evening.”
He lifted a brow as if he didn’t know to what she referred. “Auction?”
She nodded in confirmation. “Miss Wilson is taking ’er to a secret gentleman’s club so that ’er…waresmigh’ be sold to the ’ighest bidder. If you know wha’ I mean.”
He sighed heavily, as if terribly disappointed. “I fear I might have lost my chance to win her hand then.”
“Not if you ’ave the blunt.”
He inclined his head and donned his cap once more. He handed her a coin which caused her eyes to light up even further. “Thank you. You have been most helpful. For your discretion. I wouldn’t want to upset Miss Davies when she is about to embark on an enchanting evening.”
As Drake walked away, he had the strangest feeling in his gut. Normally that would be instinct warning him that danger was ahead. At the moment, it was just… unsettling. He wanted to tell himself to forget about Miss Davies and her errant brother. It wasn’t as though he needed the money that was due to him from Flavian. If he followed through with trying to collect the debt, it would be more about teaching the young pup a lesson in responsibility and not letting his sister fight his battles for him all the time.
He returned to his townhouse and headed for the modest study. He employed no servants because there was no need. He had a scarce amount of furniture and he had known how to use a stove since he was in short pants. He had always wanted to make sure that he wasn’t tied down to anywhere particular, which is why he had lodgings scattered all over the city and as far away as Scotland.
The same had always held true for the women he’d bedded. Temporary. No entanglements. Mutual gratification.
As he sat down behind his desk, he took a key from the inside of his jacket pocket and unlocked the top drawer. That wasn’t where he kept his special ledger. It was in a false bottom beneath the desk, which he opened using a special combination. The compartment fell open and he retrieved the documentation that kept track of all of his monetary investments. From various business investments to every single ha’penny that he held, it was all written down here.
He opened it and wrote down a few more expenditures that had transpired since his last visit to London. It was a small pittance compared to the overall value of his properties.
However, if he intended to purchase Miss Davies, it would put a slight dent in his coffers but nothing he was concerned with. No doubt he would be going up against noblemen who had no qualms about spending their inheritance on such a prize but he had amassed a fortune over the years. Money was no longer an object for him.
He sat back in his chair and lit another cheroot. He glanced at the pristine white ceiling that had likely belonged to one duke or another at one time, but which now belonged to him—a bastard son of a whore.
The irony almost made him smile.
He might actually accomplish the act when he left the club that evening with Miss Davies on his arm.
And in his bed.
* * *
The nerves flutteringinside of Fleur’s stomach were almost painful. Butterflies? They were more like chisels eager to slowly grind at her midsection.
She was not looking forward to this evening’s festivities. She thought she might have had more time to prepare herself for the loss of her virtue but Harriette had assured her that word would spread like wildfire that afternoon. There was no need to wait.
She did look through the few gowns that Fleur had brought with her and shook her head disparagingly. “These will never catch any man’s eye.” After threading her arm through hers, Harriette said, “We are going shopping.”
Fleur never dreamed that Harriette would take her to the modiste, the perfumery and the market where they gained several items that Harriette claimed to enhance the “complexion.” She purchased new silk undergarments to go with a brand-new gown that she believed might attract the highest bid from a prospective “buyer.” Fleur had cringed at the image of being auctioned off to a licentious man of indeterminate age but she reminded herself it was part of the show and she had no choice but to trust Harriette’s judgment.
That night, as the lady was helping to apply the rouge and various accoutrements to Fleur’s face to “enhance the beauty of her natural features,” Flavian walked into the room. At first, Fleur thought he might be horrified by the picture she presented but he only observed the handiwork by the courtesan until she finally stood back and said, “That should do it.” She waved a hand toward the full-length mirror. “Take a look.”
Fleur glanced in the mirror and her breath caught in shock.
Under different circumstances she might have been convinced that she looked presentable in the full black skirts and the lace trimmed chemise beneath. The silver and black corset was something she wouldn’t have chosen for herself but it complimented her dark hair that was left to flow in loose waves about her shoulders.
But it was her face that broke any illusion that she was headed to a ball or some other society event that would be appropriate.
She brought her hand up to touch her lips that had false color applied to them, the same for her cheeks. Her eyes were rimmed with dark enhancements. She could feel the butterflies return with a vengeance and for a moment, she prayed that there was a miracle that would keep this evening from transpiring.
With a deep breath, she turned and waited for her brother’s reaction. There was a pause and then the only thing he said was, “You look… different.”
“She looks like a remarkable achievement for any lucky man,” Harriette interjected.
Flavian was still wearing his simple garments. There had been no excursion to enhance his appearance. But there had been no need. He wasn’t about to lose all of his respectability in one night.
