Esme did not want to touch anything so she folded her hands in her lap. As it was the floor was so filthy, it stuck to the soles of her shoes. She kept lifting her feet, simply to assure herself she wasn’t permanently glued into place.
Since discovering the bands had to be reunited in order to remove them from their wearers, Fielding had been using his sources to try to locate Waters. If the man was hiding from the Raven he wouldn’t be visiting his regular haunts, so they’d had to look elsewhere. The informant had been lucky and found the man at a dirty little pub near the St. Katharine Docks.
They’d been told that every evening for the last five days, Waters had come into this pub and stayed for nearly three hours. Tonight, though, Waters had yet to arrive.
Fielding decided they should not approach Waters here but rather wait until the man left, and then they’d follow him. A perfectly crafted plan wouldn’t matter, however, if the nasty man didn’t show. So for the time being they sat in silence, surrounded by the filth and the noise. And there was plenty of both. For someone more accustomed to the quiet halls of museums and libraries, this pub’s crowd of rambunctious men was an assault to Esme’s senses. It seemed every word spoken merited applause or cheers. At least they were a mirthful bunch.
Her cloak prevented her from seeing much farther than the end of their table but did nothing to impede from reaching her the foul stench of wretched body odor mixed with the smells tobacco and whiskey. Her eyes watered.
“Where is he?” Esme whispered.
Fielding scanned the room once more. “I don’t know.” A bar girl made her way over to their table. “Evening,” she said and bobbed a deep curtsy clearly designed to display her tightly corseted breasts, which currently threatened to fall out of her dress. “Can I get you and your lady friend something to drink?” She smiled widely, revealing several blackened teeth.
Fielding waved his hand. “No.”
She turned to go. Before she could reach the bar, a man with long, beefy arms reached out and pulled her onto his lap. Immediately the man began to fondle the girl’s breasts. She squirmed and fought, trying to get off his lap, but never lost her forced smile.
The offending man snaked one hand under the girl’s skirt. “Hold still, Minnie,” he growled. All the men around them cheered.
Esme came to her feet, unsure of what precisely she could do, if anything, but she was feeling rather incensed by the entire display.
“Enough,” Fielding said, his deep voice carrying across the noisy pub.
The large man didn’t remove his hands from the girl’s body, but he did turn in Fielding’s direction.
“Who the ’ell are you?” the man growled, then came to his feet, dropping poor Minnie onto her bottom.
She scrambled to her feet and slugged the big man in the stomach, then turned to Fielding. “I can take care of myself,” she said, her voice etched with bitterness.
“Esme, we should leave,” Fielding said as he pulled her close to his side. As he and Esme crossed the crowded pub, he turned to the oaf. “When the girl says to stop, she means it.” He tossed a small coin purse to Minnie as they left the door.
Once safely inside the brougham, Esme found that despite the chill in the air, her cheeks felt warm. Her hands still shook with indignation.
“I should never have taken you in there,” he said quietly.
“Fielding,” she said, placing her hand on his knee, “I am unharmed.”
“You shouldn’t have had to witness any of that.”
“Why? Do you believe I am so naive that I’m unaware of how some girls make their living? I can assure you that while I’m an innocent, as you say, I am not ignorant.”
“I never suggested you were naive or ignorant,” he said defensively.
“Minnie is trying to make as reputable a living as she can by serving those oafs, and they only want to take what she’s not offering. I feel sorry for her.” She twisted her hands into the folds of her cloak to steady them. “Sorry for the fact that she’ll probably never know a man’s kindness or gentleness. Every day she has to live with the groping of disgusting men or risk losing her position.”
He said nothing in response.
“Look at us. I’ve done everything save ravish you myself,” she said quietly. “Yet, you have been able to withstand my temptations. You are a good man.” Or maybe that wasn’t it at all, the little voice inside her head suggested. Maybe it had little to do with Fielding’s temperament and everything to do with her appeal. Regardless, she knew he was a good man.
“Although I’m unable to completely ignore your temptation,” he began. “I will not take advantage of you.”
“But—”
“I know you believe it won’t matter. But Esme, you don’t know what you ask of me.”
“I don’t know what you think I’m asking, but it’s certainly not for a commitment,” she said.
“Damnation, woman.” His voice was lined with frustration and something else. Something dangerous. Before she knew what was happening, he’d pulled her onto his lap and began to kiss her passionately. His lips moved firmly against her own, and she didn’t care if he was angry or trying to prove a point. She wanted him, plain and simple; it mattered not what excuse he gave himself.
