The Leopard Prince (Princes #2)(55)

“You ought to put a poultice on that,” Harry said, nodding at the crusted scar on the man’s face. It was oozing pus.

The other man grinned, stretching the end of the scar on his cheek until it broke open and leaked blood. “Does she give you pretty things for your stud work?”

“Maybe she dresses his pud with gold rings.” One of the man’s cronies giggled.

Beside him, Harry felt the boy tense. He laid his right hand on his shoulder. “I can open that wound for you, if you like,” Harry said gently. “Drain the poison away.”

“Poison. Aye, you’d know about poison, wouldn’t you, Pye?” The scarred man sneered in amusement at his own wit. “Hear you’ve turned your poisoning from animals to women now.”

Harry frowned. What?

His opponent correctly interpreted his frown. “Didn’t you know, then?” The man cocked his head. “They found her body on th’ moor this morning.”

“Who?”

“That’s a hanging offense, that is. Murder. There’re those who say your neck should be stretched right away. But you’ve been busy with your mistress, haven’t you?”

The big man leaned forward, and Harry’s left hand dropped to his boot.

“Does she tell you when to spend, Pye? Or maybe she doesn’t let you spend at all. Would soil her fine, white body, wouldn’t it? Having common spunk on her. Don’t bother with that.” He gestured to where Harry’s hand hovered near his knife. “I wouldn’t want to hurt a man-whore.”

The three men walked off, laughing.

Harry froze. Whore. The name they’d called his mother so long ago.

Whore.

The boy moved beneath his hand. Harry looked down and realized he was clutching his shoulder too tightly. The boy didn’t complain, just shrugged a bit.

“What’s your name?” Harry asked.

“Will.” The boy looked up at him and wiped a hand across his nose. “My ma’s a whore.”

“Aye.” Harry released Will’s shoulder. “So was mine.”

GEORGE PACED THE LIBRARY THAT EVENING. The windows were black mirrors, reflecting the darkness outside. For a second she paused and studied her ghostly reflection. Her hair was perfect, a rarity, but Tiggle had redressed it after supper. She wore a lavender gown, one of her favorites, and her pearl drops. Perhaps she flattered herself, but she felt she looked well, almost handsome, in the frock.

If only she felt as confident inside.

She was beginning to think that the library was the wrong place for this meeting. But what other choice was there, really? With her brothers in residence at Woldsly, she couldn’t ask Harry to her rooms, and the last two times she’d gone to his cottage… George felt her face warm. They hadn’t done much talking, had they? So there wasn’t an alternative. But still. The library felt somehow wrong.

The sound of booted footsteps rang in the hall. George squared her shoulders and faced the door, a lonely offering waiting for the dragon. Or maybe the leopard.

“Good evening, my lady.” Harry prowled into the library.

Definitely the leopard. She felt the hairs stand on the back of her neck. Harry gave off a sort of volatile energy tonight.

“Good evening. Won’t you have a seat?” She gestured to the settee.

He flicked his eyes in the direction she indicated and back to her. “I think not.”

Oh, dear. “Well…” George inhaled and tried to remember what she’d planned to say to him. Her speech had made sense in her rooms. But now, with Harry staring at her, now it fell apart like wet paper tissue.

“Yes?” He cocked his head as though to better hear her thoughts. “Do you want it on the settee or the floor?”

Her eyes widened in confusion. “I don’t—”

“The chair?” Harry asked. “Where do you want to make love?”

“Oh.” She felt a flush start on her cheeks. “I haven’t called you here for that.”

“No?” His eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? You must’ve ordered me here for something.”

“I didn’t order you…” She closed her eyes and shook her head and began again. “We need to talk.”

“Talk.” The word was flat. “Do you want my resignation?”

“No. What makes you think that?”

“My lady.” Harry laughed, a nasty, hoarse sound.

“I may be merely your servarry laughed, a nasty, hoarse sound. “I may be merely your servant, but credit me with some intelligence. You were closeted with your three aristocratic brothers all day, and then you summoned me to your library. What is this if not a dismissal?”

She was losing control of the conversation. She spread her hands helplessly. “I just need to talk to you.”

“What do you wish to talk about, my lady?”

“I… I don’t know.” George squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think. He wasn’t making this any easier for her. “Tony is pressing me to make a decision about us. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Are you asking me what to do?”

“I…” She drew a breath. “Yes.”

“It seems simple enough to me, poor commoner that I am,” Harry said. “Let us continue as we have.”