Carenza hesitated. She was alone in a part of London she didn’t know well. Mr. Cox would ensure that she came to no harm, but if Julian was correct, and there were members of the press hanging around, she should accept his offer and stop being stubborn about nothing.
“Carenza …”
She let out a breath and lowered her veil. “Fine. You win.” She set her gloved hand on his proffered arm. “We can leave through the back entrance of Mr. Cox’s residence next door.”
“That was clever of you,” Julian commented as they exited the room. He allowed her to lead him toward the back of the building, where a second set of stairs took them into the other dwelling.
Mr. Cox, who was sitting by the fire reading a printed tract, stood up when they entered. “Mrs. Sheraton said to offer you her apologies for leaving, my lady, but that she knew you’d be safe with his lordship, here.”
Julian had asked Mr. Cox not to mention their prior financial arrangement, which had given him access to the inn through this very kitchen.
“Thank you. I’ll take good care of her, Mr. Cox,” Julian said, and received a wink in return.
He reckoned the landlord must have done well over the course of the day, what with all the bribes and the increased custom in the public bar. He only hoped the man had the sense to keep his mouth shut if anyone came looking for information. He’d have to ask Simon to keep an eye on him.
“Shall we?” He offered his arm to Carenza, who hadn’t spoken a single word. “My carriage is at the Golden Dove, which is a short walk from here.”
After making sure nobody was watching, he escorted her from the building and walked her through a series of lanes to the stable yard of the Golden Dove. He usually preferred to drive himself, but on this occasion, he’d brought his closed carriage and coachman in case he needed them.
In the carriage, Carenza took the seat opposite him and waited until the door closed behind him before raising her veil. Julian risked a smile at her and was met with a glare.
He sat back against the seat and regarded her. “How many men turned up?”
“Enough.”
“Did any of them come up to scratch?”
“That’s my business.”
He allowed a considerable silence to develop between them before he spoke again.
“I doubt any of them can offer you what I can. Discretion, reliability, all my own teeth, good health, expertise.” He ticked the list off on his fingers.
“You consider yourself an expert in bed?” Carenza asked.
“I’ve never had any complaints.”
“You do know that women lie about such things.”
“Not about me.” He smiled because he had a strange desire to annoy her, and he was enjoying himself.
“Perhaps I should ask my acquaintances.” Carenza crossed her arms. “I’m sure someone has some interesting things to say about your rakish ways.”
“Please do. Although, I pride myself on my discretion, and I choose my partners for the same reason.”
“You mean married women who wouldn’t want to risk their position in society.”
“Yes,” Julian agreed. “Mostly, but not always.”
She sniffed. “Widows, then?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled again. “Come on, Carenza, admit it. You wanted a rake. I’m the perfect lover for you.”
“You’re almost as conceited as Hector,” she retorted.
“But is it conceit, when I know I’m an expert in pleasuring women?” He raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order.”
The carriage came to a stop, and she held up her hand, her expression flustered.
