Miss Ida Strong’s surprising return from the dead?”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Simon lied while heat crept up the back of his neck.
“No?” Yates frowned, then gave a slight shrug and relaxed against his chair. “Fair enough. But it is interesting.”
“What is?” Simon croaked. He feared his cravat might suffocate him.
“You being at the brothel the same night her existence there was discovered. How it happened to coincide with your little spectacle. The fact that I know you were a friend of her father’s and—”
“Enough,” Simon hissed. He glanced around quickly before returning his gaze to Yates’s. “Not another word. Whatever you think you may know is entirely wrong. Got it?”
Yates slowly nodded. “Of course.”
“Can I count on you to let others know there’s nothing more to it? That the rumor is false?”
“Is everything all right?” Yates asked with a frown. “You look a bit ill.”
Simon felt ill. He took a moment to simply sit, stay silent, and think. If Yates had unraveled the truth so quickly, others would too. His only hope was to squash the rumor immediately. “I was turned away from Amourette’s that night for complaining about a whore who didn’t quite meet my standards. Things got a bit heated.”
“Oh,” Yates muttered and suddenly grinned. “Ohhh. Wily fellow, you. Well done.”
“No, I don’t mean…” Simon stopped himself.
If Yates mistakenly thought he was telling the truth, he’d be better able to convince others that Simon had nothing to do with Miss Strong. Anyone daring to say otherwise would do so at the risk of their own reputation. They would have to admit where they’d been and what they’d been up to. Simon could only hope they weren’t reckless enough to do so, but one could never be sure.
He schooled his features to hide his concern. “Care for a game of cards?”
“I’d rather play chess if you don’t mind.”
Simon didn’t care which game they chose just as long as it helped change the subject and pass the time. Having spoken to Kirksdale, he still hoped Elmwood might show. And once he’d learned if the earl also had an investment he might want to safeguard by getting Napoleon back on the battlefield, he’d go have a word with his uncle so he could return to Miss Strong with results.
Chapter Six
Awareness crept into Ida’s limbs, stirring her from slumber. Tap, tap, tap. With a disgruntled groan she tried to ignore the sound by burying her face in the pillow and pulling the blanket up past her shoulders. It offered a blissfully warm barrier between the cool room and her body. Tap, tap, tap.
What was that infernal noise?
Yawning, she stretched her arms and back, which effectively undid the lovely cocoon she’d made for herself. She puffed out a breath, opened one eye to the light of day, and sat bolt upright the moment she spotted him.
“What are you doing here?” How long had Fielding been watching her sleep?
He was sitting in the only chair the room offered, diagonally across from the foot of her bed, the very image of an obstinate aristocrat. His eyes were hard, piercing, and gleaming fiercely.
“Where were you last night?” he asked, ignoring her question.
Ida’s brain tried to focus. “Here, obviously, or I wouldn’t be where I am right now.”
Fielding shot to his feet and stalked to the side of the bed. “Don’t try to be clever.” He leaned forward, narrowing the distance between them. “It rained last night and you left marks all over the entryway floor.”
She swallowed. His cutting tone suggested a dangerous streak lurked within him. It was far more evident now than it had been the day before when he’d learned of her walk. That had been no more than slight concern compared with the anger he now conveyed. To the average observer, Fielding might look like the perfect gentleman – a fop even, some might say – but it was becoming increasingly clear to Ida that he was not a man to be trifled with.
To her astonishment, she realized she liked that. There was something so elemental about it, so attractive in its display of masculine authority, it caused every nerve in her body to hum with excitement. It also made her realize she’d better start being honest.
“All right.” She stared into his darkened eyes with her own degree of stubbornness. He stared right back with unflinching determination and…an almost predatory degree of pleasure lurking somewhere in those shimmering depths. Ida’s pulse raced. Everything within her grew tight with the sudden