Page 82 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
‘Good-day, m’lud.’ The boy tilted his cap. ‘An dun’t forget, if y’ur needing y’ur boots cleaned, I’m y’ur man.’ He was not a man, he looked barely ten, but Drew had always liked these boys. He bought them bread when he could, and soup when the weather was cold, and he’d stand and listen to their tall tales occasionally.
Mary’s fingers slipped off his arm as it lifted to tip his hat. He smiled. ‘Good-day, Timmy, lad. When I have a task, I will let you know.’
Mary’s expression turned odd. As though she saw that he was not the evil bastard her family portrayed.
Perhaps he should ignore the boys in her presence in future. He had no wish to improve her ill-informed image of him. He breathed away that contrary thought. He would never keep her if he did not learn to control his temper.
The entrance to his apartment was a hundred yards from the corner. He knocked on the door, it opened almost immediately.
‘Lord Framlington.’
Drew nodded at the doorman who gave him a formal bow.
‘This is my wife,’ Drew stated, looking from Joseph to Mary. ‘This is Mr Moore, Mary, our doorman. He is the man to call upon if you need anything. Literallyanything.’
‘My Lady.’ Joseph hid his surprise well and bowed deeply. ‘As his Lordship says, if there is aught you need, ask.’
Mary became the woman Drew had seen in the ballrooms, smiling and thanking the man with inherent grace.
Drew turned to the staircase and encouraged her to walk ahead. It left him with a view of her swaying bottom as he followed three steps behind.
The hallway was narrow, tiled with red and black polished diamond shapes and the stairs simple waxed oak.
Eyes wide, Mary took in all the details of her coming down in life.
If she had tried to picture his home, he doubted she had pictured this.
She stopped on the top stair, waiting for him.
Passing her, he went to his front door, one door along, put her bag down, withdrew the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. It swung open. She entered as he picked up her bag.
She walked to the hearth rug, her gaze spinning all about the square parlour.
He had a table, set to one side, which seated six. The other half of the room contained five armchairs at various angles, a games table, set for backgammon, a writing desk and a couple of other functional pieces of furniture. The room was extremely sparse, with Pembroke’s house as comparison. There were no ornaments, or decorations. The walls were pure green, nothing flamboyant. Everything he owned was for a purpose.
Her expression said she found it lacking.
He carried her bag into his bedchamber and put it on the bed. When he turned, she’d followed.
‘See, no notches.’ It was spiteful but he could not help it, defensiveness ran in his blood. Her lack of belief, the rejection of his love, was cutting at him.
He sighed.
She looked as if she’d been thrown into a lake and told to swim when she did not know how.
A wave of love washed over him, regardless of the feelings of betrayal warring in his chest.
He wished to take a hold of her and tell her gently not to be so foolish. To convince her of the truth. But she had made him a coward now. He was too afraid of more rejections. The kiss she had turned away from had left its scar.
Yet this was all strange to her, he did know that.
More sympathetically, he said, ‘The dressing room is through there. There is space there for one personal servant, but I have none. These are my rooms, the sitting room and this bedchamber. I buy in meals or eat out, at a friend’s or at my club.’ Of course she could not join him at his gentleman’s club. It was also a gentleman’s apartment block, though. The only females who usually called here were paid. Mary would probably die of mortification if she happened to see one of those women.
‘There are people below-stairs who will do laundry and such like, and a maid who cleans weekly and attends to the grates in winter. I do not expect you to keep house for me. If you need anything, just ring.’ He pointed to the bell pull. ‘The kitchens here can bring up hot water too.’
‘What will we do for dinner tonight?’ Her skin had paled. She looked… shocked.
He smiled. ‘I know a place that sells magnificent pies, I shall send someone.’
