Page 20 of West End Earl
They’d never slept near each other before except for the occasional midday nap on the pair of drawing room sofas. Adam always insisted on returning home to that tiny room no matter how late the hour of their escapades. That made sense now.
The coffee burned as it slid down his throat, so he set the cup down with a rattle and balanced it and the saucer on the arm of his favorite chair.
Curiosity had compelled Cal to stare at the lines of her face until something stirred within him that hadn’t gone away with the rising sun. It had been a revelation to watch his friend at rest in the dim light of the meager fire in the grate.
Puppy wasn’t ugly—but not likely to turn heads either. Taken as a whole, her square jaw fit nicely with her angular cheekbones. Angular everything, to be honest. Amidst all the sharp points reflecting in the firelight last night, her nose stood out as perfectly straight—obviously never broken.
Cal rubbed at the bumped bridge of his nose. The badly healed break was a reminder of a scuffle at Eton with a boy who’d called Cal a molly when he discovered his friendship with Lord Hopkins. He and Hopkins had only been friends, but people who called others names for reasons like that weren’t often prone to logic. Such things weren’t discussed openly at Eton, but they weren’t uncommon. Cal knew a few men who, in those explorations, found home. And there were others who lived as authentically true to themselves as possible, even when society didn’t endorse their choices. This was an area where Cal didn’t care about society’s disdain. Everyone deserved to live their life with dignity and honesty.
There could be many reasons behind her choice of disguise. Perhaps she preferred women lovers and felt more comfortable in a man’s persona. Yet he had never seen Adam show interest in a woman. Or a man, for that matter.
As he puzzled through it, he tested another sip of coffee and found it cool enough to drink. Thank God.
One thing Puppy had said last night nagged at him. She’d said she was hiding until it was safe to live as herself again—which implied living as a woman. The fact that she’d said that while beaten and bruised wasn’t lost on him. He’d wondered if the attack was random or the result of one of her information-gathering jaunts for him.
But a third option had occurred to Cal sometime in the wee hours of the morning. Especially given that she was already living in disguise when they met. There was a history of tension between her and her uncle, whom she never spoke of favorably. Her uncle could be behind this.
It was a mystery. And like a curious cat, his brain couldn’t let it go.
Licking a drop of coffee from his lip brought to mind the time he’d spent staring at the full curve of Puppy’s mouth while she slept. Too much time, if he were honest. As she dreamed, her body had given off a warmth that had changed the usual sandalwood Adam wore into something more personal, especially wrapped up in his coat. Her sandalwood and his spiced soap had combined into a scent that had sent a curious humming of interest under his skin.
Inconvenient ponderings for a man who’d spent years cleaning up his father’s financial and social messes, only to be forced into marriage with a complete stranger. When would it end? The choices appeared limited. He could marry a woman who, last night at Vauxhall, had looked as unenthusiastic about their introduction as he’d been. Did she know about this bet and engagement already? Was that why she’d been so quiet and uncomfortable? Beyond a few monosyllabic answers, she hadn’t seemed inclined to get to know him.
Or he could refuse to comply with this nonsensical plan of his father’s and face complete ruination of everything he held dear.
There must be a better option.
Cal was filling his cup for the second time when Ethan sauntered into his library as if he owned the place.
“You look like shite,” Ethan said.
“Did I send out a silent cry for help?” Cal asked.
“Aye, my friendship antennae tingled.”
Cal smiled around another sip of coffee.
“Actually, Lottie isn’ feeling well this mornin’. Too much champagne last night. Threatened tae cut off my bollocks when I proposed a shag. She’s insisting I leave her alone tae die till at least noon. I decamped for my safety. Now, why do you look like something I should scrape off my boot? I never see you in your shirtsleeves. Where’s your coat?”
Out of habit, the pair took their customary seats by the fireplace. The black coffee rippled through Cal’s system, shaking off exhaustion with every sip.
“I left my coat with Puppy. Long story. Where to begin? On the way home last night, Puppy was robbed and beaten. No”—he motioned for Ethan to remain in his seat—“he will recover. But it isn’t pretty. I stayed with him all night. The stubborn mule refuses to move from Shoreditch.” He’d promised her he would keep her secret, and he would, even from Ethan, his closest friend.
“Bloody hell. What can I do tae help?” Ethan leaned his elbows on his knees, concern etched in the deep valley between his eyebrows.
“Not much at the moment. I haven’t talked to Adam yet about the men responsible. This can’t go unanswered, though.” Cal ran a finger around the smooth porcelain rim of his cup while his brain scrambled every which way, playing through possible scenarios. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that the uncle from Northumberland would be all over the situation when they found the assailants. But on the off chance that this wasn’t random or orchestrated by her uncle, Cal would accompany her on the next few trips to the docks. It wasn’t unheard of for him to do so, but he’d been taking a more hands-off approach lately. No more. Not now that he knew there was a threat.
“Aye. He may be young and pasty, but he’s ours,” Ethan said.
Cal couldn’t have said it better himself. “Exactly. Then my father sent a message that he planned to call, so the day is going to go to hell.”
“I wonder what happened this time? Opera dancers or cards?” Ethan’s posture relaxed as the conversation veered into familiar territory.
“In this instance, I already know. He summoned me yesterday afternoon, and I haven’t had a moment alone with you since.” Yesterday afternoon seemed like a lifetime ago. Pasting on a wry smile, he said, “It seems Eastly traded me for a horse.” The look on Ethan’s face almost made the circumstances comical. Almost.
“You’ll be tellin’ me the details of that. But do ye want tae check on Adam? Is he alone?”
“I left a footman and strict orders to send a message every hour.” Which meant a message should have been due a quarter hour ago. Cal checked his watch. After snapping the cover closed, he tucked the timepiece in his waistcoat pocket.
