Because of Rebecca(23)

“Hello, Rebecca.”

Goose flesh prickled her skin as his gaze roamed over her, taking in her attire. “Going somewhere?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. What are you doing here at this late hour?”

“I need to speak to you. May I come in?”

The polite gesture would have been to invite him inside, even at this late hour, but she didn’t have time to spare. She had to meet Rory by ten o’clock. She waved to her aunt and stepped out into the hallway, closing the suite door behind her.

Jared backed away, frowning.

“I’m afraid not. I have a train to catch. I’ll be back in a few days after I take care of important business. Can’t this wait?” She asked, heading toward the stairs with her one bag.

“Rebecca, please. I want to apologize for my reaction yesterday. I wanted your answer to be yes, but I realized my proposal came too soon. You shouldn’t have to explain why you turned me down.”

“I’m sorry, I really have to go, or I’ll miss my train. Can we talk more about this when I return?” If I return.

“At least let me carry your bag and see you off,” he said, catching up to her as she went down the stairs.

She stopped at the bottom landing and whispered. “I don’t think this is a good idea. People are already talking about us.”

His brows knitted together. “Who’s talking?”

“I’ll be back in a few days, and I’ll pay a call to Mrs. Paxton,” she said loud enough for the night clerk to overhear. He’d been straining his neck as she descended the stairs, trying to hear their conversation.

“Good night, Mr. Hollingsworth,” she called over her shoulder.

Jared watched as she stopped outside of the hotel, sat down her valise and donned the garment she had draped over her arm. From the distance it looked like a cloak, which he found odd since it was late June. Yet, she wore it, covering her person from head to toe. He could only see her dainty hand as she reached out to hail a hired cab.

Curiosity demanded he discover what she was doing. He stepped out of the hotel and motioned for Higgins to bring the carriage, and climbed up beside his driver instead of getting in back. He was not surprised at all when the cab he followed turned down Brewerton Street instead of going to the train station.

“Slow down, Higgins. We don’t want Miss Davis to spot us following her,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir. Do you mind my asking why we’re doing so?” The driver pulled back on the reins.

“I suspect she’s headed for trouble.”

“Then she needs our protection.”

Jared grinned at his faithful servant. Taking care of Rebecca was something he was prepared to do. And he might as well get used to doing so if they were going to marry.

His brow furrowed and he thought back to what she’d said on the staircase in the hotel. People were talking about them. He clenched his hands into tight fists. His personal reputation being in question was old hat. He had accepted the murmurings behind his back long ago. But to drag Rebecca’s reputation down by association was something he wouldn’t allow to happen. He would find out who was doing the talking.

His carriage slowed even further as Rebecca got out of the cab and turned down an alley.

“Looks like you’ll have to walk,” Higgins said, pulling the Victorian to a complete stop.

“Wait right here,” Jared ordered, and jumped to the ground. He quickly walked down the street and stopped at the alley entrance. He could barely make out her silhouette at the other end of the dim passage. She turned left which took her to Amherst. The only establishments there were a few gaming halls and a brothel. Not a place you’d expect to see a lady visit.

What in the hell are you up to, Rebecca?

The night was quiet except for the sound the click of horse hooves made on cobblestone as Higgins slowly approached with the carriage disregarding his orders. “Meet me over by the river, but don’t let her see you. She’s headed toward Amherst.”

“Aye, sir.”

What’s she doing? It’s the middle of the night. No woman in her right mind would even consider walking down by the river alone. This explains her wearing the cloak. She thought no one would recognize her if she hid herself.

Jared’s breathing grew labored as he walked quickly down the darkened alley. He came out at the other end just in time to see Rebecca pass under a gaslight and enterer Madame Monique’s House of Delights with his cousin Rory.

Rory!

If someone had kicked him in the gut Jared wouldn’t have been more surprised. Or angered. He hurried to the front stoop of the establishment and knocked rapidly until the door opened.

“Well hello, love. You looking for some company tonight?” a painted woman in a snug fitting red dress asked, leaning on the door.

“I believe a well-dressed woman just entered here. Can you show me to her?”

“Ah, I see. You interested in a little ménage á trios?”

“No.”

“You want some special pleasure, but you don’t know exactly what? I’ll get Madame Monique for you. Follow me, love.”

Jared watched her saunter into another room and slowly followed, noticing several small parlors where women in silk wrappers entertained gentlemen or served drinks. But he did not see Rory or Rebecca among them.

He didn’t get any farther than the stairs when the painted lady returned with a woman wearing a transparent black dress, leaving little to the imagination. Her breasts, round and plump, looked as if they were about to burst forth from the black lace bodice. Sparkling jewels graced her neck and earlobes.

“What can I do for you?” she asked, taking a drag on a cigarette and blowing out a puff of smoke.

Jared coughed. “I’m looking for a couple who just entered this establishment together. The man is my cousin, Rory Hollingsworth.”

“Ah, dear Rory.” The woman blew smoke rings over his head and winked naughtily at him. “He’s busy at the moment, but if you’d like to have a seat I’ll be glad to tell him he has a visitor when he finishes.”

Jared took a step backwards, finding her words hard to swallow. Rory busy.

“The woman who came in with him. Is she with him now? Does she work for you?”

“What woman?”

“In the cloak.”

“Ah, the cloak. Rory likes his women to be mysterious. They must be playing out la petit chaperon rouge. This could take hours. Rory is a notorious big, bad wolf. If we listen closely we might hear his triumphant howl as the deed is completed. Won’t you have a seat?” She gestured toward a vacant chaise. “We can have a few drinks while you wait.”

“I don’t want to sit down. I don’t want to have drinks.” He roared. “I want to see that woman!”

“I can wear a cloak for you,” the painted lady in the red dress wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can be anything you want, honey. You don’t need Rory’s used goods.”

He wrenched himself free of the woman’s hold and glared at them both. He didn’t like their innuendos about Rebecca. There had to be some mistake. “If he’s laid one hand on Rebecca, I’ll kill him.”

Monique snuffed out her cigarette on the stairwell banister and flicked it into a nearby potted plant.

“Chérie, leave the man alone. Go fetch Rory.” Monique’s tone changed and so did her features. Her smile was gone and now she looked bored. “Tell him the Master of the Plantation is here to see him. We’ll be in my suite.”

“Oh, so you’re the master of Oak Hill? Rory talks about you all the time.” The painted lady gave a yearning look and vulgarly blew kisses in the direction of his crotch.

Jared recoiled back a step.

“Come with me.” Monique put her hand on his shoulder to draw his attention back to her. “I’m sure you’ll wish to speak to your cousin in private. It’ll be a nice little reunion.”

He followed her down a corridor and up a second staircase into her suite. He’d expected the room to have gildedmirrors, bold colors and gaudy draperies. Instead, the room was soft blue with sheer drapes cascading at the windows and bed frame, giving the room a peaceful and innocent feel much like Charisse had decorated the nursery. The low burning candles around the room added to the serenity.

“Rory said you looked alike, but you’re nothing like I imagined.” Monique smiled. “Clearly you’re the more handsome cousin.”

“What else did he say about me?” Jared looked around the room. “Are they here?”

Monique laughed, going to a drinks table. “Oh, not much. Rory’s as cunning as a fox. What’s your poison?”

“Rory.”

“Touché.” She poured herself a splash of Bourbon then looked up at him. “Are you sure you’ll not join me?”