Surely not. She definitely was notthatkind of woman either.
However... if that were the case... might she nudge him toward handling her father’s case a bit differently than he would otherwise? He suspected her of possibly trying to bribe him. Should she?
She almost slapped herself for entertaining the idea. How unworthy of her. How manipulative. Disgraceful, really.
And yet... if a daughter had that power, shouldn’t she use it? Would it not be a bigger sin to turn away from a chance to help her father? In the least shouldn’t she give it serious thought before throwing the opportunity away?
She rose and removed her dressing gown. She snuffed out the lamp, climbed into bed, and tucked the bedclothes around her. She stared up at the shadowed billows of the bed’s drapery.
As soon as she closed her eyes, memories deluged her. Ives commanding her body with his mouth and hands... Ives driving her mad with a hundred featherson her inner legs and thighs... Ives holding her close while profound pleasure eddied through her.
***
Ives went in search of Strickland after leaving Padua. The night was still young, and there was the small chance that if he occupied himself now he might eventually throw off the frustration and erotic energy that had his teeth grinding.
He found Strickland at Damian’s, a gaming hall. Strickland liked to play faro and vingt-et-un, and many nights could be found doing so in one of the town’s haunts, sipping brandy while he avoided the wife he had never loved.
Strickland spied him approaching and hailed him enthusiastically. Ives assumed that meant Strickland was up for the night.
“Damned glad you are here. You can admire my good fortune,” Strickland said, casting a gloating glance at the man beside him at the vingt-et-un table. “Take a chair. Join us.”
Ives did not gamble much. He had never developed the taste for it. All the same he sat beside Strickland and called for cards.
“I saw Crippin tonight,” Ives said after they passed some small talk. “You remember him, I am sure.”
Strickland shook his head. “Hell, yes. I did not realize he was in town. I thought he was up north. That is where he gets his nose into trouble.”
“He goes where he is told to go. Apparently he was told to come to London.”
Strickland peered at his cards. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“I hope not. I’ve a mind to thrash someone, and I would not want it to be you.”
Strickland looked over, alarmed. He threw in his cards. “You are in a mood, I see. Let us get some air.”
Together they repaired to a small terrace attached to the gaming hall. Strickland offered a cigar. Ives declined. Strickland lit one for himself. Positioned out of the light, he puffed away. With each inhale the burning end of his cigar made tiny orange highlights on his face.
“Why do you want to thrash someone?”
“Crippin has been keeping watch on Langley House. He stands in the shadows across the street and spies on its occupants.”
The glowing tip stopped moving. “Surely not. No one would be so stupid as to set him on your brother’s house. Aylesbury could break any man in the Home Office.”
“And yet someone has done it.”
“Zeus. Is your brother residing there now?”
“No.”
Puff.“Are you?”
“No.”
“Is anyone? If not, it makes no sense at all.”
“Hadrian Belvoir’s daughter is currently using the house, at my invitation. Her father’s situation led to her losing her place at the school where she teaches.”
“Ah. I see. Unfortunate for her.”
