her gently to her feet. He stood, holding her against his body for a moment as she swayed.
“When I take a woman to bed, I want her sober.” His eyes burned into hers with erotic intent. “So she remembers all the wicked things we do.”
Before Anya could protest, he bent down and swept her into his arms, cradling her against the hard wall of his chest.
She bit back a moan of disappointment. He was refusing her? Unfair! She might be a little tipsy, but she wasn’t drunk. Still, it had a certain neat symmetry. She’d turned him down at Charlotte’s, after all.
The stupid man had clearly made up his mind to be noble. She closed her eyes as he carried her into the hall and up the curving staircase to her rooms. He jiggled her in his arms and managed to open the door, then strode through to her bedroom and deposited her gently on the bed.
Anya glared up at him. “I’m really not drunk.”
“You’re not entirely sober either,” he countered, with irritating logic. “And whatever else you can say about me, I’ve never slept with a woman who didn’t know exactly what she was doing.” He bent and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning, Miss Brown.”
Anya let out a groan of utter frustration as the door clicked closed behind him.
Chapter 20.
Anya woke with a pounding head and uncomfortable memories of the night before. Kissing Wolff had been glorious, but she shouldn’t have let down her guard. What if she’d let her secret slip?
When she asked Mickey about his whereabouts, she learned he’d gone out, but had left her a note:
Several Russians from the delegation will be attending the club tonight, including Prince Trubetskoi. My colleague hasn’t found a Russian speaker to mingle with the guests, so I have a request: Will you do it? You can wear a mask to hide your face. I shall expect your answer when I return.
Anya frowned down at the paper. Venturing out in a crowd would be a risk, certainly, but she was desperate to escape the confines of the living quarters again, even for a few hours. There was little chance of anyone recognizing her if she did as Wolff suggested and dressed as a masked courtesan. Most men, in her experience, only saw what they expected to see. Especially when it came to women.
And perhaps doing her captor a favor would be no bad thing. If he was in her debt, he might be persuaded to do something for her in return.
A short while later a knock sounded at the door, and she turned to see Mickey ushering in the elegantly clad figure of Charlotte Haye.
“Charlotte! What are you doing here?”
Charlotte returned her hug and stepped back with a wide smile. “I’ve come to see how you’re holding up, of course. And don’t worry. Elizaveta told me you’re concerned about meeting that brute Count Petrov again. I made certain nobody was watching the house or following me. I even changed carriages three times and went all the way to Limehouse and back, just in case. It was quite the adventure!”
She held Anya at arm’s length and studied her through narrowed eyes. “I do hope you don’t mind me coming. We’ve all been dying of curiosity.”
“Not at all! I’ve been in dire need of female company. And you’ve come at a most opportune time. I need help dressing like one of your girls.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened in scandalized interest. “And why is that? Please tell me you’ve changed your mind about seducing Lord Mowbray?”
Anya felt heat rushing to her cheeks. “No! At least, I don’t think I have.”
Charlotte sent her an amused look. “That doesn’t sound like a definite no. What’s going on?”
“Mowbray is letting me visit the Tricorn’s gaming floor tonight. But since the only women who attend are … less than respectable … that’s what I need to be.”
Charlotte gave a crow of delight. “How marvelous! I’ve been itching to get my hands on you and your far-too-practical wardrobe for months! Show me to your bedroom. I can’t wait to get started.”
A little dazed, Anya led her up the stairs and into her set of rooms. Charlotte looked around approvingly, and when Anya showed her the gowns Wolff had provided, she gasped in delight.
“Mowbray bought you these?” she breathed, wide-eyed. “Darling, you’re going to look ravishing! Now strip.”
Anya did as she was told.
The evening gown Charlotte selected was a superb example of the dressmaker’s