“Did you just swear, Miss Winthrop?” He stifled a smirk.
“Bartholomew Brown does indeed swear and gamble and flirt with ladies, Mr. Harris. And if you’d let well enough alone out there he would have?—”
“Cleaned me out o’ house an’ home, I’m sure.” Harris was amused, aroused, and now all sorts of entertained. “Damnation, Bella, you are one?—”
He stopped himself.
“One what?” She glared back, hands on hips outlined so perfectly in those snug breeches Harris had to shake himself straight. “I am goin’ to take yer home now an’—”
***
“No.” Annabelle stood her ground. She’d not come this far for nothing.
“What do you mean,no?” Mr. Harris crossed his arms, cutting a most fine figure, blast him.
“You will do nothing, sir. For youare not my keeper, regardless of what brother Jasper says. I will see myself home, and you will not breathe a word of this to anyone or so help me I will … I’ll …”
She could not come up with a single executable threat,damnation.
Harris stepped close enough to scald her with his gaze. “You will do exactly asIsay, miss.” His lips brushed her jawline as he spoke low into her ear. “And notbecause your brother-in-law asked me to deal with you, but because you enteredmyplace of business, floutedmyrules at cards, and then cheated shamelessly atmybloody tables. Do you know what I do with guests who disrespect my house, Bella, hmm?”
His breath was hot on her cheek, his hands hot at her waist now too.
“If they are gentlemen, I settle it as gentlemen do, at dawn with pistols, or I tip them off to the coppers and land them a while in gaol. But a girl as fetching as you, well…” She heard him lick his lips. “I put her to work t’ pay off her debt. Would you like that, pretty Bella? To pay off yer debt in service t’ me?”
She gasped, panic flooding her chest along with something else she could not name.
“Annabelle,” he whispered seductively into her ear, “answer me.”
“No,” she got out weakly, her legs beginning to fail as he steadied her waist, his hands slipping lower than they ought.
She froze, and he swiftly stepped back.
“Good,” he told her brusquely. “I’ll find you more respectable clothing before I drive you home and inform your father of your?—”
“Arthur, please.” Her heart galloped in her breast. “Deliver me home only do not tell Papa. He mustn’t know. I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I’ll do your books for free, only please do not tell him.” If her father knew of this, he’d marry her to Finch tomorrow. “Baron of Milton need never know either, I’ll do anything to?—”
“Anything, Bella?” He harshly cut her off. “Take care what you offer, miss, for a man less than myself might turn such offer into somethin’ else.”
She backed away. “I didn’t mean … That is, I didn’t think you’d …”
“That’s just it.” His eyes bored into hers. “Y’ didn’t thinkat allthis night. For this is not theTon, miss. Men here’ll treat a girl like dirt if she’s not protected by family, money, or a husband. Imagine yerself in just this situation, in a different gamin’ hell, locked in a room, defenseless and alone, beggin’ on yer knees an’ me a different man.”
Annabelle pulled a knife from her pocket. “I am not defenseless.” She waved it wildly at him. “And I am not a?—”
In a flash he grabbed her wrist and squeezed until she yelped and dropped the knife. Then he bent back her arm to roughly pin her to his body.
“Thisis what I meant.” He tightened his grip until she winced. “Don’t ever show yer hand in battle, woman. Like in cards, always keep yer cool. Had you let me approach, had you softened t’ me and then, when I were close enough to touch, used yer knife t’ gut me, thrustin’ in an’ up, you’d’ve had a chance in hell.”
He pushed her away, his boot landing neatly over the knife as he bent to pick it off the floor and slide it into his pocket.
“Fine.” Annabelle exhaled a shaky breath, forced to concede defeat. “I am clearly not your match, sir. Only if you’ve any decency at all, Mr. Harris, you will escort me to my father’shouse in secret. I give you my word I’ll not gamble atThe Leafagain.”
Mr. Harris nicked his head in a sour grimace as relief flooded Annabelle’s breast.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Elizabeth sat tucked in bed, reading Austen’sPersuasion. The servants’ loud revelry still filtered through the house as they continued her birthday celebration with bottles from her husband’s cellar.
