Page 10 of Hazard a Guest
“Yes,” he said immediately. “As many moments as you want.”
She smiled at him and he immediately forgot every single thing that had changed in his life since the last time he’d seen her. When had it been? The Murphy wedding, when she’d poured his wine and teased him with hope that she never intended to honor?
Had that been the only time she’d ever spoken to him? Had it been the only time he’d ever stood in the same room and merited her interest?
“Wonderful,” she chirped. “Shall we?”
Joe Cresson followed her into the flat and quietly realized that those memories wouldn’t have been the only time. As of this morning, it would instead be the first time.
Yes, that had been the first time.
That sounded better.
CHAPTER 3
“Youoweme, Freddy,” Ember said again, fisting her fingers in her skirts. She could feel the impatience bubbling under her skin, threatening to fly from her fingertips or out of her mouth at any given moment.
She glanced at a calm, baffled Mr. Cresson, who’d perched himself by the window, and forced herself to breathe. Calmer, she added, “You know you do.”
“I did!” Freddy shot back, clearly exasperated. “I paid my debt! Did you not skin me for every penny I had? I can’t even go back to my own damned estate anymore!”
“That was what you owed to your wife,” Ember reminded him. “That was Claire’s repayment.”
“Oh! Well, that’s news to me, then,” Freddy returned, his cheeks warming. “What about smuggling two fugitive women out of the country last year? Whose debt was that? Still not yours?”
“That was Dot’s,” Ember replied. “And you know it.”
“I can’t go to Blackcove, Ember!” Freddy raged, coming up out of his seat. “You know I can’t!”
“I’m not asking you to throw the dice yourself,” she returned, just as loud. “Not unless it’s completely necessary! Freddy, this is my entire life. It’s the very ground I stand on. I almost lost it once before, because ofyou. Don’t let it happen again!”
“But why does it have to be me!” Freddy cried, a raggedness to his voice that spoke to barely contained tears.
This gave her pause, a buzz of discomfort landing on her skin at his rawness. It felt a little bit like guilt.
He was right that he shouldn’t go there, and Ember knew it. Freddy Hightower had ruined his life in the roll of so many dice, and these last few years he’d finallystopped.She didn’t know how he’d stopped, how he’d managed it, because God knew she saw plenty of men who had already lost everything stumbling through her doors even so, but Freddy, one way or another, had found a path to abstinence.
“Because,” she answered, softer now, almost apologetic, “everyone else already left London for the low season. Everyone else who’d be invited. And I know you always are. I won’t make you play, Freddy. I wouldn’t do that.”
He looked at her warily, as though she’d entirely missed the point.
“If I might,” said Joseph Cresson, leaning forward in that damned open shirt in a way that made Ember’s pulse spike, “could the invitation just be transferred to Miss Donnelly?”
“No,” they both answered with identical looks of displeasure over this fact.
“Right,” said Cresson, frowning.
He steepled his fingers, heaving a little sigh as he regarded Freddy, then quickly flicked his eyes to her with a shake of his head.
She realized then that he knew. He knew about Freddy’s demon, his hunger for the tables, and this man, this lovely, sweet man who’d once blushed every time she entered a room, wasupsetwith her. He was upset with her for threatening it.
She didn’t enjoy that at all.
The clock at the end of the street chimed, alerting them to the hour. Each toll echoed through the little sitting room like a death knell.
“Let us get some additional opinions,” Cresson decided, glancing over his shoulder with a look that, if the clock had been able to see it, would have shut down those peals mid-ring. “I need to go to the office this morning anyway, and it’s only a short walk. Does that sound agreeable?”
Both Ember and Freddy stared at him, perhaps simply out of shock that he’d said so many words just now, all at once, without being prompted. This muscled, golden-skinned stranger who was wearing Mr. Cresson’s face had discomfited them both.
