Page 77 of The Trick of the Treasure
“And I’m counting the wretched hours,” Constance said with a grumpiness that seemed to relieve Janey of the worst of her fears.
“You here for a bit, Janey?” Fran asked.
“Yes, I’ll stay with her,” Janey said with a warning glare at Constance, presumably in case she argued.
“Then I’ll go and get meself some nosh before the punters turn up.”
“Did you see Mr. Grey?” Constance asked Janey as soon as Fran had closed the door.
“Nah. I locked up the office. But he sent a note to say you were fine but recovering in bed from an accident. The girls is dead worried about you. Scared us all to death, you have.”
“Sorry,” Constance said meekly. “How is the case of Bibby’s locket?”
Janey glowered some more, lowering herself onto the bed. “Good and bad. Found the cove what nicked it—well, he found it on the ground and kept it. I said it was Bibby who’d lost it, and he said she can’t have it back ’cause he’s giving it to his wife for her birthday! There’s worse scum than thieves out there, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Sadly, there are,” Constance agreed. “Who is this man?”
Janey grimaced. “Customer of another girl further down the street. Young fella, thinks he’s better than us, drops by every once in a while, apparently.”
“Why don’t you take Bibby and this other girl round to his house, bump into him and his wife on their way to church? I expect he’ll give it back quick enough just be rid of you.”
Janey seemed much struck by this suggestion. “I thought we was supposed to be honest.”
“It’s not dishonest to walk in the man’s vicinity. What he reads into it is his own affair.”
“So it is,” Janey agreed, grinning.
They ate a companionable meal together while the guests began to arrive in the house. He wouldn’t come, now. Constance knew that, and she hated the longing within her, the emptiness of disappointment. Love came with vulnerabilities she had never imagined. Only, after his tenderness in finding her in Clarke’s house and bringing her home, she had thought he would come back today…
Angry with herself for being so pathetic, she told herself he knew she was safe here among her friends and protectors. It was the case she needed to hear about, nothing more.
Eventually, Bibby appeared in the doorway, grinned to see Janey there too, and said, “It’s my turn to sit with you, ma’am, only Mr. Grey is here. Should he wait?”
Constance threw back the bedclothes, more from instinct that any real intention to get out of bed. Janey caught them and pulled them back up, glaring.
“Send him in, Bibby,” Constance said, with a reasonable effort at calm. Inside, she was astonished. Had he really walked through the front door among all their usual gentlemen? Or snuck through the kitchen and up the back stairs with Bibby, the way Constance herself entered when she didn’t want to be seen by customers?
Janey stood up as he walked in. He still wore his overcoat and carried his hat. Back stairs, then. To her anxious eyes, helooked cold, and air of excitement cut through the concern in his eyes.
“Watch her, sir, she’s getting restive,” Janey said. “Ring if you need us. And she’s not to be alone until the morning. Bibby.”
He didn’t ask Janey for a health update, though he did spare her a searching glance before his attention returned to Constance.
He walked across the room and sat where Janey had been. He took her hand. Warmth flooded her. Hehadcome.
“How are you?” he asked, examining her bandage and then her face.
“Better, I think, as long as no one touches my head.” The door closed behind the other woman, so she added, “You can kiss me if you like.”
He smiled. “With no hands,” he said, spreading them wide as he bent and kissed her mouth.
“Your lips are warm,” she said huskily. “But the rest of you is cold and tired. Why don’t you come up beside me and be comfortable?”
As though he had been waiting for the invitation, he kicked off his shoes and leaned against the pillows beside her, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Then he took her hand again.
A man on her bed, even if not quite in it. A man’s hat and coat cluttering her feminine room. Unprecedented. And rather wonderful, considering it wasthisman. Intimate…
“Did you come up the back stairs from the area door?”
