Page 7 of Temptress in Disguise
Mr Chance gritted his teeth. “We have an appointment across town. Wait outside, and I shall have Godby find you a hackney.”
Naomi bit back a chuckle as Mrs Wendon closed the door. “We have time to take a small detour to Leicester Square.” She had planned for a delay in case Mr Chance proved difficult. And the Reverend Smollett would be drinking at the Copper Crown until dawn.
Mrs Wendon sat beside Naomi and cast her a sidelong glance. “Hester is acquainted with Mr Chance’s sister Delphine. They get along famously. They’re practically inseparable.”
Hester found her voice. “I’ve spoken to her twice, Mother.”
“Yes, but she gave you excellent fashion advice and recommended her own modiste. Is that not a sign she holds you in high regard?”
“If you’re riding with me, I won’t mind my manners,” Mr Chance warned. “If you wish to save yourself any embarrassment, Mrs Wendon, I suggest you alight.”
Hester moved to stand, but her mother hit her with her reticule.
“Sit down. Mr Chance is merely testing your resolve.” Mrs Wendon smiled. “We can make allowances, sir. On account it’s late and men have the devil in them at night.”
Realising it was easier to make the five-minute journey to Leicester Square than to prise Mrs Wendon from the carriage seat, Mr Chance barked instructions at Godby.
The vehicle lurched forward and picked up speed.
“You can say anything to Hester and she’ll not take offence. She has the heart of an angel and a backbone of steel.”
Hester sat quivering like a perfectly set blancmange.
Mr Chance rose to the challenge and offered a wicked grin. “Mrs Wendon’s husband lost his fortune at my gaming hell. Consequently, she means to harass me until I marry her daughter.”
“Have you told her that’s impossible?” Naomi said.
“At least three times this week.”
While Hester avoided touching Mr Chance, Mrs Wendon decided to question the competition. “I suppose you work at the theatre, my dear. Actresses have a tendency to look a little desperate.”
“Is that not a sweeping generalisation?”
Mrs Wendon gave Naomi’s knee a reassuring pat. “No need to be tetchy. Hester understands a man’s needs. She’d not object to a gentleman’s pastimes.”
“I’m not a gentleman,” Mr Chance countered. “And as Miss Wendon looks like she might cry if I untied her bonnet, I won’t be bedding her anytime soon.”
Hester breathed a relieved sigh.
“Rest assured. She’s had instruction in the pleasures of the flesh,” Mrs Wendon persisted. “She’ll not be shy on her wedding night.”
Mr Chance swore. “I’m not marrying Miss Wendon.”
“Of course you’re not,” Naomi said, giving the man a covert wink. “How can you, when you’re marrying me? Though, I have had no such instruction on how to please a man and will probably scream like a babe.”
While Mr Chance folded his arms across his muscular chest and grinned, Mrs Wendon wheeled out the cannons. “Only a fool would marry a nobody when he can marry the niece of a baron. Actresses are two a penny.”
“Only a man in love would marry a nobody rather than the niece of a baron. Is that not so, Mr Chance?”
Naomi imagined Mr Chance would rather sell his soul than admit he loved a woman. For the benefit of Mrs Wendon, he glanced at Naomi and said, “Love should be the only reason a man marries.”
“Poppycock,” Mrs Wendon countered. “Were that the case, we’d be overrun with bachelors, not rats. No. Love is merely a tool?—”
“Enough. I see we’ve arrived at our destination.” Mr Chance sighed with relief when the carriage stopped in Leicester Square.
With skin as thick as an oak trunk, the matron showed great tenacity. “Hester is available to ride out most days. She has lessons from a card sharp on Wednesdays. A lady must be useful to her husband.”
Hester cast an apologetic grimace as she alighted.
