Page 8 of Temptress in Disguise
Before closing the carriage door behind her, Mrs Wendon remembered to say that Hester had attended a bare-knuckle brawl near Camden Town and did not swoon at the sight of blood.
“For the love of God,” Mr Chance muttered before telling Godby to drive to the inn near Highgate. “The only way to silence that woman is to cut out her tongue.”
“I doubt that would deter her. I imagine she would stand outside your establishment waving placards.” Not that it would do any good. Should everything go to plan, Naomi hoped Mr Chance would agree to marry her once they reached the Copper Crown. “I didn’t realise you were in such high demand.”
“I’m a man of many talents, Miss Grant. If you’d care to cross the carriage, I shall give you a private demonstration.”
“Half an hour ago, you were keen to throw me out.” Indeed, she was surprised she’d lasted this long. There was every chance he’d abandon her at the thieves’ den once he heard her plan.
“That was before I found you mildly interesting.” He raised his hand to silence her. “Don’t excite yourself. These rare flickers of emotion soon fade.”
Hence she had to do everything in her power to keep him entertained. “Luckily, I’m not looking for a man with a passionate spirit and a penchant for poetry. A cold-hearted blackguard will do.”
He laughed, the sound deep and husky. “Tell me. How is such an adventurous and amusing woman still a virgin?” He sounded keen to resolve the issue.
“When a lady finds herself destitute, she must learn to survive or die. I’m like a chameleon and know how to blend into the background.”
“I beg to differ. You’re the only bright star in the night sky.”
The compliment caught her off-guard. She should be grateful Mr Chance saw her at all, yet doubts surfaced. She needed a scoundrel. A selfish beast. A man with a damaged heart who took pleasure in flexing his fists.
“You don’t want to know why I’m destitute?” He might agree to her plan if she could make him see her as an ally, a fellow sufferer of fate’s cruel injustice. “I have lost everything because of my stepmother’s treachery. Now I must scrape a living with what little talent I possess.”
Something she’d said had a marked effect on his countenance.
Suspicion glinted in his hard eyes, and the devil’s fury darkened his tone. “I knew my brothers had hired you. Don’t think you can play me for a fool, madam. Don’t think you can rouse my pity by reminding me of my own tragic past. I feel nothing. I’ll always feel nothing.”
Naomi steeled herself. Mrs Wendon was right. This man had Lucifer’s temper. At any moment, he might stop the carriage and leave her stranded. So why was she not afraid? Perhaps because a lady knew where she stood when a man spoke his mind.
“How much did my brothers pay you?” he snapped, his volatile reaction an indication of how deeply he had once been hurt. “This talent of yours. Does it amount to more than sucking a man’s?—”
“Mr Chance!” Doubtless he meant to shock her while he gathered his defences. “Speak to me in that despicable tone again and Iwillshoot you in the foot.” Naomi glared at him. “Unlike you, I have a talent for prose. Mr Budworth, the theatre manager, paid me to write a short play. It will be performed during Thursday’s matinee.” Although, after the incident in his office tonight, he’d probably tossed the script in the grate.
He remained silent.
“Regardless of your opinion, I am a lady of gentle breeding. At least I was until my stepmother stole my inheritance.” Determined to prove her point, she tugged down her hood. “I have nothing to hide. And while your brothers’ reputations precede them, they did not pay me to… to…” She gestured to the placket of his trousers.
“To what, Miss Grant?” He found her inability to repeat the phrase amusing. “Surely a playwright can express herself eloquently.”
“I’m not a playwright but a storyteller of average ability. Mr Budworth pitied me.”Pitywas not the appropriate word. The manager requested private meetings, hoping to sate his lustful cravings. “Hence the play will be performed on the quietest day of the week.”
“Still, I should like to hear you stutter over the lewd description. You owe me something for the ride across town.”
“I refuse to let you intimidate me.” Though her life was a shambles and she needed this man, she would not stoop to his level.
“I intimidate everyone. I’m known by the moniker the King of Spades. What is a spade if not an inverted black heart?”
“You make hostility sound like a medal one should wear with pride. Compassion is a far more attractive trait in a man.” She thumped the carriage roof and cried, “Stop the vehicle, Godby.”
“What the blazes?” Mr Chance jerked at the sudden change of plan. He glanced out into the darkness at the scattering of houses nestled amid an expanse of fields. “We must be three miles from the Copper Crown.”
“I’m not sure you’re equipped to deal with the problems that lie ahead. I shall find another mode of transport. You may return to your gaming hell and enjoy that bottle of claret.”
Mr Chance frowned. He was used to getting his own way and evidently disliked the lack of control. “Godby won’t stop unless I issue the command.”
Naomi smiled. “Then you have a choice, sir. Be warned. This is a game of deception and murder.” If that didn’t appeal to his thirst for intrigue, nothing would.
“Murder?” he scoffed. “Whose murder?”
