Page 32 of A Rake's Redemption
“Aye, that I am.” The guarded look left John’s eyes, and he gestured toward the back end of the stable. “Right through those doors, if you please.”
Alex was surprised to see that two of the mares appeared to be thoroughbreds with slim-barreled bodies and long legs built for speed, broad chests for greater lung power, and slightly dished faces that spoke of Arabian ancestry.
Brice pointed to them. “Where did you get those two?”
John appeared affronted. “Are you asking if I got them legal?”
Brice gave him the affable smile he used to gain a buyer’s trust when he was about to sell questionable property. In this case, it almost looked conspiratorial. “Of course not. What I meant was, are the mares registered?”
“Aye. I won them from an Irishman in a card game, fair and square.” John looked at Alex. “I don’t always lose.”
If compulsive gamblers always lost, they’d eventually quit. It was the winning—even occasionally—that kept them going, but Alex was more interested in the fact that an Irishman had been mentioned.
“Did you win the horses while Inis—the lad—was still here?”
“The lad had been here a few days, I think,” John said. “Why do you ask?”
Alex shrugged nonchalantly. “Just wondering. The boy’s brogue is so strong, I thought he might have enjoyed meeting another Irishman.”
John frowned and then shook his head. “The lad offered to take one of the other horses to the smith for me the day they arrived.”
Alex felt the hair at his nape prickle. Had Inis avoided the Irishman deliberately? He’d never completely lost the feeling that she was hiding something from him. “You would think the boy would want to see one of his countrymen, given that he was orphaned here.”
John gave him a quizzical look. “I don’t know about that. The lad kept to himself, but when I found him in my carriage, he was wearing sailor’s garb and a brig from Dublin had just docked not far from the brothel.”
Only the years spent keeping his face impassive in the gaming halls saved Alex from showing his surprise. Inis had told him her parents had come over looking for work and been killed in a carriage accident. It seemed too coincidental that she’d stowed away in John’s carriage the same day the ship from Dublin had docked nearby.
Had she lied?
…
Inis walked up the several flights of stairs to her chamber late Wednesday afternoon, feeling unsettled. She felt like a yo-yo being wielded by an experienced hand. Her emotions plummeted one minute as she thought about leaving, only to rebound quickly when she thought about actually escaping to America.
She didn’t question whether Alex would go through with the deal. She had a strong sense that once he gave his word, he would keep it.
Could she keep hers? She’d originally had no intention of attending any Society function. But now it seemed she might make an actual appearance at some event, most likely at the Duke of Dansworth’s Mayfair mansion. There was the chance that no one would recognize her—she didn’t think the duke had actually ever seen her—but red hair was hard to hide. She couldn’t afford to linger longer than a week or two after the event took place in case word found its way back to her uncle. And that was her dilemma. She wanted to stay, but she couldn’t risk the chance of being found out.
She waited in anticipation for the footmen to bring the hot water for her bath. Maybe a good, long soak would help her think better. A few minutes later, they arrived, followed by Elsie. Inis admired the efficiency of Alex’s household staff. Even though she wasn’t a guest, the footmen never failed to bring water for her every day.
Elsie laid fresh underclothing on the bed after the tub had been filled. “These just came from the laundry.”
“Thank ye,” Inis said, “but I doona expect ye to run and fetch for me.”
“I don’t mind,” Elsie said. “The clothes were already stacked in a pile, and it looked like the laundry maid folded the pantaloons special, so the lace trim would be protected and not catch on anything. I thought best not to get it wrinkled.”
Inis smiled. “No one is going to find out if my pantaloons are wrinkled, but thank ye just the same.”
Elsie nodded and left, closing the door behind her. Inis looked at the folded garments. She’d never seen smallclothes arranged so carefully. She’d have to remember to thank the laundry maid as well. Taking her bar of scented soap from its tin on her dresser, she picked up a washcloth, stepped into the tub, and sank down onto the small bench. Warm water cascaded over her shoulders, relaxing tight muscles. Inis leaned her head against the edge of the tub and closed her eyes.
She hadn’t seen Alex since Monday morning when they’d gone for their ride and he’d reiterated his business proposal. That still smarted. She’d carried a tray up to her room Monday evening to avoid the possibility of running into him. Tuesday, he’d left early for the office and hadn’t returned home before she’d gone to bed. She supposed he was out carousing somewhere. This morning, she’d seen Caroline’s carriage leave. Inis didn’t know why she’d been there, but she was in no hurry to resume lessons. The longer she could drag them out, the better. She hadn’t seen Alex, either, since Jameson kept her busy working with the colts.
Her mind certainly hadn’t calmed down, even though her body felt more relaxed. She couldn’t keep hiding from Alex forever. She’d just wanted a little time to make sure she could handle her emotions around him. She hoped she could. She was his business partner. Business. He wanted nothing more. Neither should she.
She stood from the bath and gave herself a brisk rubbing with the drying cloth, then reached for the freshly laundered clothing. She reached for the pantaloons, shook them out from their square-wrapped arrangement, and pulled the drawstrings open. A moment later, she yelped in pain from a stinging sensation in the palm of her hand. Dropping the pantaloons, she opened her hand and stared down at an oddly-shaped brown spider.
Inis shook her hand quickly, sending the spider flying. Her hand was already beginning to swell, and she suddenly felt nauseous. The room spun around her and the last thing she remembered was falling to the floor.
Chapter Eleven
