Valiant (Gentlemen of the Order #3) - Adele Clee Page 0,25
a lady in breeches appeals to my rakish nature. I cannot concentrate on the case when eye-level with your shapely thighs, madam.”
Vivienne’s heart pounded under his visceral invasion. Mr Sloane had a way of making a woman feel like a wicked temptress. Thoughts of kissing him entered her head, as did the notion of him stroking his large hands over the thighs he so admired.
“However, I must confess to being somewhat curious.” His rich voice raised her pulse another notch.
“Curious? About what?”
“Whether your lips taste of innocence. Whether you would struggle under the weight of experience. Or would the wild woman who rides bareback in the darkness take command of the reins?”
She might struggle at first, but Mr Sloane would tempt a saint to sin.
“There’s only one way to know, sir.”
Mr Sloane rubbed his sculpted jaw as he scanned her body. “Are you saying you want me to haul you onto my lap, Miss Hart, and plunder your mouth in true pirate fashion?”
Oh, he made debauchery sound so inviting. Yet she wasn’t about to surrender just yet. “No, Mr Sloane, I’m saying you will have to wait until our wedding night to find out.”
Chapter 7
According to Miss Hart, the offices of Golding, Wicks & Sons occupied an entire townhouse in Long Lane, West Smithfield. Evan had been so captivated by his conversation with the lady seated opposite, he’d not considered the invariable problems they would encounter upon reaching their destination.
Being the third day in September, the first day of the infamous Bartholomew Fair, Evan’s carriage came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of Holborn Hill and didn’t budge.
“What’s causing the delay?” Miss Hart gazed out of the window at the hordes of people heading towards Smithfield.
“It’s the Bartholomew Fair. Every cloth merchant in the country has descended on the capital to set up stalls and sell their wares. I’m afraid we may have to walk the short distance to Long Lane.”
“Walk through this rowdy rabble?” Miss Hart clutched her chest. “Then let’s make haste before every cutpurse from the rookeries hones in on their prey.”
Bartholomew Fair was a playground for the debauched and provided a host of opportunities for every crook from Southwark to Shoreditch. “If we’re to walk, you must hold on to me, Miss Hart. Promise not to let go.”
“I’ve heard terrible tales about the fair. I shall cling to you like a leech. Indeed, you will have to prise me from your arm once we reach Mr Golding’s office.”
Even when nervous, Miss Hart proved amusing company. And to think he’d presumed she would be tedious, a dullard, a bore. As with most men, the fault lay with him for not looking beyond the beauties vying for attention, for not appreciating those wallflowers who sat with their hands clasped in their laps, wilting from boredom.
Evan opened the carriage door and vaulted to the ground. He told Buchanan to follow discreetly behind until they reached the lawyer’s office, instructed his coachman to turn right onto Shoe Lane and wait there.
“Take my arm, Miss Hart.” Evan clasped her elbow and assisted her descent.
The lady didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as her feet hit the pavement, she hugged his arm as if they were lovers who couldn’t bear to be parted.
They bustled through the excited crowd, amid the din of hawkers flogging their wares and the raucous laughter of those huddled around a puppetry booth. Although Evan noted a few shady characters lingering in doorways, they arrived in Long Lane without incident.
“Mr Golding’s office is opposite the Old Red Crow,” Miss Hart said.
Like the coffee-houses and alehouses along the row, the tavern proved popular with cloth merchants and those seeking boisterous entertainment. It was only a matter of time before a fight broke out amongst the drunken revellers.
“I assume Buchanan accompanies you when you visit your lawyer?” Evan experienced unease at the thought of Miss Hart wandering these streets alone. Not that it was any concern of his, but still.
“He does, yes, though Lady Hollinshead was kind enough to lend me the use of her carriage the last time I visited.”
Yes, he recalled seeing Miss Hart in the company of the countess. Surely a lady of great social standing would have found a suitor for the daughter of her closest friend. Lady Hollinshead knew enough eligible gentlemen to fill Miss Hart’s dance card. Yet Evan had never seen his wallflower grace a ballroom floor.
“Does Lady Hollinshead know why you came to visit Mr Golding?” he said, directing