“I will. I’m sorry, Hugo.” Her enormous blue eyes glassed over with tears.
Hugo wanted to clap. Instead, he stood and came out from behind his desk, offering her his hand and helping her to her feet. “Don’t be sorry, darling—just be a good girl from now on, hmm?”
She pressed her lush body against him before he knew what she was doing, her hand running from his chest to his flaccid cock. Maisie frowned when she felt physical proof of his lack of interest. She caressed him with her palm. “Can I make it up to you, Hugo? I’ll do anything you like.”
Hugo gently but firmly removed her hand from his groin. “Save your enthusiasm for Amherst, darling.”
“Don’t worry, Hugo—I wouldn’t tell your missus.”
Hugo took her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Who told you I was married, Maisie?”
She shrugged. “Everyone knows.”
How in the world did people hear about his marriage? He’d not told a soul. Maybe they were just guessing, based on the fact he no longer took clients. Whatever the reason, he didn’t like talking about his wife while at work. It felt too much like he was soiling her, even if nobody ever saw Martha’s face or knew her name.
He looked down into Maisie’s sly eyes. “As appealing as your offer is,” he lied, “I’ve got a pile of work waiting for me.” He escorted her to the door.
She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding, Hugo.”
As he watched her teeter off on her ridiculous heels, he was tempted to plant a boot in her fleshy arse for believing she could play her tricks on him. Instead, he shut the door and went back to work.
Hugo was half-way through the mound of bills and other correspondence when another knock disturbed him.
“Yes?”
The door opened and Daniel entered, a large tray in his hands.
Hugo shoved his hair off his forehead and glanced at the clock. “Lord, dinner already? Well, come in and make yourself comfortable,” he said. “And you’d better lock the door behind you. What I want to ask is for your ears alone.”
Chapter 30
Mr. Duncan glanced at his watch. Yet again.
“I’m sorry,” Martha said. “Something must have happened to keep him.” Hugo was already an hour late and the estate agent had become increasingly fidgety. “If you have another appointment, you can always leave me with the key. I know he will come.”
“Well…” He chewed his lower lip.
“It will be fine, Mr. Duncan. Perhaps you could leave all three keys and we can drop them off later?”
“I normally wouldn’t do that, but I’m afraid I only budgeted two hours, as you requested. However, if you are sure that you will be all right here by—”
The front door opened, and Hugo entered, his black overcoat and top hat dotted with diamonds of water. His dark eyes flickered dismissively over the agent before they landed on Martha and softened. “I’m so sorry, darling. I’m afraid I got tangled up in something of a riot.”
“Oh, goodness,” she said.
“Is that over on Haymarket?” Mr. Duncan asked.
Hugo nodded absently, taking Martha’s hands in his. “Forgive me?”
“I thought you were coming from the Exchange,” Mr. Duncan said.
Hugo turned slowly to the agent. Whatever the other man saw on Hugo’s face made him recoil.
“Er, not that it’s any of my affair,” he mumbled.
Hugo made a low humming sound of agreement.
“Mr. Duncan needs to be somewhere shortly, Hugo. He said he could leave us the keys and we could drop them by later.”
“Now that your husband is here, I’d be happy to stay and—”
“That’s a capital idea.” Hugo held out his hand.
Mr. Duncan hesitated.
“Is there a problem?”
“Er, no, no, of course not. Um, if you’ll just—”
“I’ll have a servant run them over later this evening.”
“Very good, sir.” Mr. Duncan gave them both a nervous smile. “Well, then, I suppose—”
“Thank you for your time,” Hugo said.
“Thank you so much,” Martha said warmly, her face hot at Hugo’s rudeness.
Once the door shut behind him, Hugo heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Thank God for that. I don’t know how you tolerate that old stick, Martha.”
“He’s quite nice, Hugo. You needn’t have been so sharp with him. He was—”
He slid his arms around her and lowered his lips over Martha’s. The kiss was both gentle and firm, and he took possession of her mouth in a masterful way that left her breathless when he finally pulled away.
“Let’s not talk about Duncan,” he whispered, his eyes sparkling.
Martha blinked up at him, a bit dazed. “Oh … well, all right.”
He took her hand. “Come, show me which room is going to be our bedroom.”
“Hugo!”
“What?” he asked as he all but dragged her toward the stairs. “It’s the only room I’m really interested in.”
“You say that now,” she said, breathless as she tried to keep up, “But you will change your mind when you find the study too small or the fireplace in the dining room too drafty.”
“Which door?” he asked when they reached the landing.
“The one at the end.”
Martha laughed when he darted forward, almost yanking her off her feet. He flung open the door to a large bedroom.
“The dressing room connects to—
Hugo drew her toward the bed. “Lie down, darling.”
“Hugo,” she shrieked as he pressed her down on the bed, which had a Holland cover over the mattress, just like all the other furniture in the house.
“I want to test out the room,” he said, untying her cloak and pushing it back before taking her reticule and tossing it onto a nearby chair.
“But—”
“Hmm?” He pulled up the skirts and petticoats of her navy-blue walking dress.
“What if somebody comes?”
“Oh, somebody will be coming.”
“Hugo!”
“I do love it when you yell my name, darling.” He thrust up her
