Page 45 of His Scandalous Lessons
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Anne paced her room,repeating the message she’d written to on that small scrap of paper in her mind.
Take this to Mr. Grey.
The staff go quiet after midnight. The back garden is protected by a gate that I have left open. The tree outside my window (third floor, directly above the statue of Bacchus) is easily scalable.
Yours,
Anne
Had Richard got her message? Did his man take it to him? Perhaps she’d made a mistake. Maybe that man wasn’t really following her. Perhaps he hadn’t seen the note when she’d dropped it on the ground.
Anne was so worried that she didn’t notice Richard climb through the window. She jumped when his arms closed around her from behind.
“Easy,” he said, laughing softly at her small squeak. “It’s only me.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “You scared the blazes out of me.”
Richard pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “I said your name. You were deep in thought. Worrying about me?”
She whirled in his arms, shutting her eyes as she breathed in his scent. He smelled so wonderful, like smoke and soap and whiskey. He sank a hand into her loose hair with some small, rough noise and held her close. It was never close enough, in Anne’s opinion. She wanted to peel his clothes off, hers. To press herself against his naked skin and have him slip inside her. Again and again.
“I always worry about you,” she told him. “My father is determined to destroy you, you’ve a habit of employing confidence artists and thieves, and men are notoriously reckless creatures with little regard for their own lives.”
He chuckled. “Oh, I assure you, I value my life quite highly. It’s the criminals who make it interesting.” At her snort, he said, “You terrified the devil out of Samuel, by the way. My felonious hireling.”
“That manwas a criminal? You have acriminalfollowing me about?”
Richard was openly laughing now. “Criminals make the best agents, sweetheart. There’s not much they won’t do when they’re well-paid, and being in my employ gets them off the streets. Samuel is a retired thief.”
Anne huffed. “Well, I suppose in the realm of criminality,retired thiefis preferable toretired murderer.”
“A gentleman has to have standards on the sort of criminal he has guarding his lady,” Richard agreed. “Samuel’s never been noticed before today. He began to think he was losing his touch.”
“No, no,” she reassured him. “He was very good. I just notice—”
“Everything,” Richard finished for her, pulling back with a smile. “Clever Anne,” he whispered, grazing his thumb across her lower lip. “Beautiful Anne. What did you wish to tell me?”
“I think my father found something. He gave me a map along with some addresses yesterday, and it looks like he’s tracking a person’s movements. Some to an address in St. James’s.” She read it back to him. “Do you know it?”
For a moment, it seemed as if he stopped breathing. “My brother’s house. The others?”
“Less frequent. They pointed to a very specific location in Whitechapel, but I’m not familiar enough with the area.”
When she told him, he swore softly. “That’s the Brimstone.” At her confused expression, he explained, “Thorne’s club. Gentlemen go, but only when they want to play deep, drink deep, and destroy themselves.”
Anne froze, her heart slamming against her chest. “Do you think he knows? About Mr. Thorne helping you with those votes?”
Richard took her by the shoulders. “Anne, I employ Thorne because he can handle a man like your father. My dealings with him are far from secret, and this still doesn’t explain why my brother’s address was on your father’s map.”
“Perhaps the earl—”
“No. James has been a bloody mess.” Richard gave a brittle laugh. “I’ve had his woman staying at my place while he figures out how to grovel.”
Anne felt a pang of something unfamiliar in her chest. Jealousy? She did not like it. “Will she be there long?”
“Already left. She booked passage to America and he followed her to marry her.”
