And so, after ferreting out a few facts and knowing Lord Tremayne wasn’t one to scrimp, Sarah proclaimed, “If I’m not mistaken, that townhouse with the overdone Grecian garden you described belongs to Dunlavy’s mistress. It was in Belgrave Square. I’ll have Peter drive around that way and you can tell me if anything strikes a chord.”
The clouds had parted, letting in a few, nearly horizontal weak shafts of sunlight and Thea eagerly agreed.
“But I warn you,” Sarah cautioned, “it’ll be full dark in less than an hour.”
Ever pragmatic, she acknowledged the time. “I know full well the futility of keeping you and your coachman out much longer. If we have to, you could write to Lord Penry and he could fetch Lord Tremayne—”
Sarah was laughing again. “Penry fetch Tremayne? Which means you have not his address either?”
“Guilty.” A flood of heat washed over Thea. “There’s more to this mistress business than I bargained for, I admit. I—”
“Tell me of that,” Sarah interrupted with an air of urgency. “You spoke of Buttons and the Samuels and delicious meals, but what of Tremayne? Was he gentle with you? Patient?”
“More than necessary, in truth. Why?” Every moisture-laden particle of air settled heavily on her lungs. At once, the confines of the carriage combined with the sudden suspicion and her soggy self had Thea suffocating under her uncomfortable garments. “Did you have anything to do with that?”
“Me? Perish the thought. Now tell me how he’s been treating you. Are the two of you getting on?”
Just like that, as though her fairy godmother had waved a wand, the air shimmered and sparkled with all the excitement Thea couldn’t contain. “Positively lovely! Oh, Sarah, he’s everything I could have hoped for. Considerate and kind—and how he makes me laugh. He possesses a wicked sense of humor.”
“Tremayne?” Sarah sounded intrigued. “I know he can bite off a pithy remark on occasion, but I’ve never thought of him as a mirthful man.”
“With me he is. I believe I make him laugh as well; we’re well matched in that regard.” She thought of their ribald Shakespearian exchange the day before and didn’t attempt to subdue her own smile. “And the home he procured for me? It’s the grandest place I’ve ever lived. All gold brocade and crimson velvet and giant—”
Mirrors. Which Thea swallowed at the last second. “To be sure, I find Lord Tremayne thoughtful and generous and his inexpressibles you mentioned—” She heard herself prattling on but couldn’t seem to stop, not even when venturing toward such an inappropriate subject. “Well, I needn’t expound upon how happy he makes me in that regard.”
Granted, she’d yet to actually experience the full measure of his “inexpressible”, but she had no doubt when the time came (which she assumed would be soon—tonight?) that the particular encounter and resulting sensations would rival what he blessed her with the night before.
Instead of being delighted at Thea’s good fortune, Sarah only eyed her critically. A look of censure—or was it resignation?—found its way to her friend’s expression. “It’s only been, what? Two nights? And you’re waxing on as if you’ve fallen— Nay. I won’t tread that path. But, Dorothea, mind, don’t lose your heart to him.”
She waved the concern away. “Of course not! We’ve only just met.”
But was he married? She opened her mouth to ask but Sarah cut her off. “Heed me well, dear. Take joy in your new circumstance and pleasure in his company, but don’t mistake your interactions for anything more than what they are: he’s paying for your services. It’s naught but a business transaction, though I admit, a singularly intimate one.” Avoiding Thea’s gaze, Sarah spread out one gloved hand and began straightening the soft leather where it stretched over every fingertip. “We can delude ourselves and paint it up pretty as a tulip but it doesn’t change the facts—women who are paid for sex are, at heart, nothing more than whor—”
“Don’t say it! Really, Sarah,” Thea remonstrated, more than a little astonished at hearing her friend speak thusly. “At heart, I was a woman in need and his money has provided for those needs. ’Tis all.”
“Well, make sure you don’t lose yours.”
“Of course not,” she said again, turning once more to gaze out the window. “I know better.”
Oh, but hearts to Hertfordshire, she was playing herself for a fool if she truly believed that.
Yet again Lord Tremayne came to her rescue. For not five minutes, and at least fifty unspoken self-recriminations later, she spotted not her new townhouse exactly, but the man who’d leased it for her.
“There he is!” she said urgently, so relieved every concern about her heart took wing. “Walking up to the porch— Lord Tremayne!”
While Thea gestured wildly as though she could halt the horses herself, Sarah knocked on the roof, alerting her driver, and leaned forward so she could see. “’Tis him all right. His silhouette is rather splendid.”
They neared and Thea’s shouts captured his attention. Though the evening light was hazy, and his face shadowed by his tall-crowned hat, when he swung round, she could easily make out the grimace distorting his features. “Oh, dear.”
“What is it?”
“He looks angry.”
“I’m sure that’s simply worry over where you got off to,” Sarah consoled, already relaxed back into her seat. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’m journeying to Bucklesham to visit my sister. She just sent word her baby came early and—”
As they rolled closer, Thea saw that worry was the least of it. “Egad! It looks like someone took a mallet to his face!”
“What?!” Sarah flew forward and jerked the curtain aside. “Dammit, Penry!” she swore, startling Thea’s head back around. “He promised he’d exercise restraint.”
“Did Lord Penry do this?” Thea was aghast. She’d never before heard her friend curse and couldn’t fathom Sarah knowing about— Actually condoning…
But what did it mean? “What reason would Lord Penry have to attack his friend? To hurt him so?”
Explanations could wait for later! The second the
