“What can I get ya?”
“Two ales, please. Whichever you recommend, darlin’.” Noble had a cocky expression on his face and was looking at the woman through his lashes.
The waitress raised a brow, though her eyes softened a bit, as if he was just the type of character that made her compliant. “Right away, dearie.” She gave him a wink and barely spared Marietta a glance.
He leaned back in his chair and splayed out with his arm across the back of hers. He shot her a hot glance beneath his lashes. It made her skin heat and her toes curl, even though she knew it was for show. Noble had said in the carriage,I’m going to be the worker who is trying to worm up the pretty tavern girl’s dress. I’m wooing you,after a fashion. After we have a drink or two,who knows what position you’ll find yourself in outside in the alley.
She could only imagine.
He leaned closer to her, so that they were touching at the shoulder, his head dipped toward hers. He wasn’t going to try that again, was he? She felt exposed and uncomfortable, and was horrified to be the slightest bit excited. From the corner of her eye she watched some of the patrons give them a look.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Didn’t we just establish ourselves?”
“I’m making us invisible to the rest of the pub, except to those lechers that get off on this kind of thing.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He nodded to the corner. Through the shifting bodies she could see a man and a woman writhing against one another, their mouths fused and their hands in motion. No one was paying them any attention.
“We are not doing that.”
He had the temerity to laugh, a warm, rich sound this time.
Soon they had their drinks. Marietta thought she hadn’t tasted anything quite as awful as the ale in front of her, but she forced herself to take small sips.
Noble and she whispered back and forth as they sipped their ale and watched the regulars. Every so often he pulled her into a mind-drugging kiss, if they’d gone too long without one.
His strategy seemed to be working. They had passed the initial inspection and were now mostly ignored.
The hierarchy in the pub became obvious. The men around the bar area were clustered around a few central figures—the leaders—while a few men by their sides—the main lackeys—held their chins aloft. The other men vied for attention or listened attentively.
The men seated at the tables looked to be a bit more democratic in their groupings. Still, the main cluster at the bar held the power. That was where they would find their information without asking direct questions, as those men looked as if an audience was their most desired commodity.
She hadn’t even needed Noble’s subtle finger pointing to tell her that. And when another bunch of men squeezed into the bar area looking similar to the band of men already there, it was like seeing two sides square off for a prize.
Noble leaned into her and nuzzled her neck. He captured her hand in his when she jumped. “Just relax, Marietta. Watch the two men near the edge of the bar. The ones who lead their groups. Don’t make it obvious. Tip your head back. That’s right.” The side of his face rubbed along her throat, his lips dropping kisses as he mapped the area. She couldn’t think while he was doing this. He clamped his lips around her pulse point and the men wavered in her vision. “No,” he whispered. “Don’t close your eyes. Tell me what you see. Softly.”
“The man in green is—” Her breath caught. “—arguing with the man in blue.”
The conversation filtered a bit their way. The bodies shifted and the noise dimmed, as if everyone else in the pub wanted to be privy to what was happening too.
“I don’t care what youthinkyou can do, magistrate, we handle that area.”
“Who said that?” Noble whispered into her ear as his hand worked up her side and one thumb grazed her breast.
“Green,” she choked out.
“—as if you can handle your own district, watchman.”
Noble’s thumb began a slow circle around her breast through the dress, stays, and chemise. Thin protection against his warm, moving fingers, his hot palms. “Blue.” The word got strangled in her throat as he brushed the tip.
“Shhh, shhhh.” He whispered against the skin under her ear. “I’ve got it. Just relax and watch. I’ll listen.”
She didn’t think that was possible. Any outrage and maidenly virtue had flown right through the pub’s doors. Her body was undulating, sinking into his, like the charmed snake she had seen at a sideshow. Her eyes fought to remain open as his lips moved against her throat, under her ear, beneath her chin, and his hands spiraled a coil of heat that kept spreading further outward.
“Marietta, stay with me.” His hand moved down along her breast and brushed between her legs. Her eyes flew open. He rested his hand on her thigh, which at this point was about the most innocent placement she was likely to receive.
“Damn magistrates thinking they can run things. Stay in Holborn where you belong.”
