“Arty, you know the girl’s addle-pated father, and you’ve just met my wife. What do you think is going to happen to Annabelle Winthrop if Idon’tintervene?” His face soured.
Harris chewed his lip. “I’ll keep me eye on ol’ Winthrop, but I can’t be there at every turn.”
“I simply need you to keep her safe until I can arrange a proper marriage.”
Harris shook his head. “Inform yer lady wife, Jasp. If she’s not in the know then?—”
“If Lizzie is at all in the know things will go south decidedly fast. You’ve no idea the temper on that woman.”
Harris laughed. “Temper?You,Jasp, marry some blueblood with a temper? Why, this day can’t get no better!”
Jasper glowered, like he usually did, but Harris took no heed. He’d known his best mate all his life, having grown up with him in the East End, a whoreson like himself.
And he made damn sure Jasper Audrey never forgot it.
Because climbing ranks was something Harris had never understood, though to be fair, he didn’t know his own sire, and frankly, didn’t care. Still, Jasp had enough blunt now to live the lap of luxury. Hell, he’d set Harris up in business, God bless. But marrying this fancy lady and interfering in the fancy sister’s affairs wasn’t right.
He’d do his bit to help his friend, but he didn’t have to like it. Though he did like the look of yon miss—some toff was sure to snatch her up. Jasp would have no trouble marrying the young lady off, provided her old ‘pot and pan’ didn’t auction her to a high bidder first.
Elizabeth felt dizzy. She longed to lie down and escape the boisterous voices which all clamored for her attention. Hadn’t Milton promised her a rest before dinner? Were all weddings so exhausting? She’d lost count of how many colorful ‘characters’ she’d met.
She edged her way toward a door, hoping to find a room she might lie down in. She slipped inside, eyes landing greedily on a chaise. She headed straight for its soft cushions when noises ground her steps to a halt.
Two guests pressed into a corner seemed wholly unaware she’d entered the room. Worse still, they looked as if they were, well, rutting! A man stood behind a woman, skirts lifted to her waist, his hands angling her hips as he thrust against her in that same rhythmic motion Mr. Damon had used to avail himself of Evie’s mouth atMadame LeBrecht’s.
A hand clapped over Elizabeth’s lips as her husband’s voice whispered, “Come away, wife, give the lovers their privacy. There’ll be time enough to watch some other day, time enough for our own play.”
That same hand left her lips to brazenly trail its way to her bosom, making Elizabeth arch her torso back against his own. He lowered his head to her neck as he ground his hips into her bottom, palm gripping her bodice.
“Lizzie, you wanton—” Milton broke off, his breath hot on her skin. “Come away now, quick, before I lift your skirts too. Let me show you to your bedroom, though God knows I ought to find someone else to take you there instead.”
Their walk upstairs passed in a haze, Elizabeth’s senses remaining heightened from the encounter, though Milton did not speak or touch her more. He merely showed her inside a room.
“You may retire here until dinner. Your lady’s maid will rouse you when it is time to dress.” He began to undo her wedding gown’s numerous hooks.
“I’m sure I can manage, sir, you needn’t?—”
“Allow me to assist you, wife.” His tone, as usual, commanded.
Elizabeth ceased further protest, for why should she now resist? As husband he’d every right to undress her, every right to take her right this minute if he wished. She flushed to recall what she’d seen in that room, the sounds made, the motions of bodies in sway.
Her dress fell to the floor as Milton gently unlaced her stays. Before she knew it, her corset slipped free and her head fell back against his chest, his chin resting atop her head.
***
Milton held his wife a moment longer before he scooped her up and laid her on the bed. His eyes traveled up her white, stockinged legs to the V visible beneath her all too sheer, clinging shift.
He wrenched his gaze to her face to remove her spectacles, then pressed a kiss to her brow and a firmer one to her lips. And then he stepped from her room into the hall, directly into Li’s path.
The lady took his arm. “I feared you were up to no good.” She marched him down the hallway, and then down his grand staircase, one blasted step at a time. “Patience is a virtue Jasper, you of all men know this.”
“I am not without willpower, Li.”
“When it comes to your bride, I fear you may be.”
He harrumphed as they entered the ballroom, Li making a moue as she surveyed the guests cavorting about, some of whom careened unsteadily across the room.
“This is not at all what your mother and I envisioned.” She angrily snapped open her fan.
