Chapter 3 #2
“I can teach you how to read,” she said, “and you can show me your life.”
An astounded three seconds ticked past before he snorted. “Ladies.”
She was having him on.
The crease of her brow, however, looked disinclined to relent. “Three nights.”
“Pardon?” He’d sat forward in his chair.
“You give me three nights in your world.” Her head tilted to the other side, as she seemed to reconsider her words. “Or four. Or five. However, long it takes, and I’ll teach you how to read.”
“Are you playing a jape?”
“I’m not the jape-playing sort.”
Blaze considered that answer…considered her.
The woman was serious.
But then, she would be.
It was a family condition.
After all, the serious Duke of Acaster was her brother and the equally serious Marchioness of Ormonde was her sister. It only followed that Lady Viveca would be serious, too.
Run—and never return to Sirens Circulating Library.
That was what he should do.
What he shouldn’t do was take this woman up on her offer, if for no other reason than he was business partners with her brother and sister.
Which was as far as his relationship with the family went.
He’d never been invited to their social affairs nor had he been introduced to their younger sisters.
It was all unspoken, because who would have ever thought of telling him explicitly that he was to stay away and leave the purity of the Ladies Saskia and Viveca unsullied.
But here was Lady Viveca asking to be sullied.
Well, not precisely.
But she wanted a taste of rough, didn’t she?
And from the light in her eyes, he sensed she was the sort who would have whatever she put her mind to—whether with him or with some other rogue. So…
Wouldn’t it be better with him?
God’s teeth.
He shifted back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “All right, let’s hear your proposition, then.”
A measure of tension released from her shoulders, and he understood she’d been worried he would deny her. “One for one,” she said. “One lesson for one experience.”
And there was his equilibrium gone again.
It was that word—experience.
Crikes.
The experiences he could give this woman abounded.
And they would never have to leave his bedchamber.
But he had to say yes, didn’t he?
Simply, he couldn’t have her out there on those London streets gaining experiences from any old rotter.
He was in this up to his ears.
He cleared his throat and extended his right hand. “You have yourself a bargain.”
As for the smile she sprang on him as she shook his hand… He thought a man would agree to sell his soul to Beelzebub himself to be on the receiving end of that smile.
“Oh,” she exclaimed and released his hand. “I’ll be right back.”
As she dashed from the room, Blaze held his hand in front of him and squinted. It looked the same as it always did, but it felt different.
He shouldn’t have agreed to this bargain.
The mistake was a dire one, and he would pay.
He knew it.
This wouldn’t be one for one.
The price he would be paying for this experience would be much, much steeper.
People thought him hungry and unpredictable and ruthless, but it wasn’t the truth about him. Well, the ruthless part was. But his rise up in the world had been a methodical thing. Further, he had a code. But this…
This bargain with Lady Viveca Calthorp fell well wide of his code and was out of character for him.
But for her?
Well, he didn’t know her.
Not really.
But that edginess in her eyes told him the one thing he needed to know—this bargain was well within character for her.
He needed to batten down.
By the time Lady Viveca returned, Blaze had already reshelved the books he’d taken out and was waiting with a hip propped against the table. She stopped within reaching distance and held out a book. “This is a primer. It’s where you will start.”
She moved to his side, sidling close, the entirety of her attention fixed on the book, and flipped open the cover. She pointed to the top line of letters. “See? I’ve written your name here. Blaaaaze Jagger. When there’s an e at the end of a word, the first vowel makes a long sound.”
“All right.”
Crikes, she smelled good.
Like a hot cross bun.
“And when there’s two consonants doubled up—like the gs in your surname—the vowel before it makes a short sound. So, the a is ah, rather than ay. See?”
“I’m getting there.”
She flipped to another page. “And this is the alphabet. You’ll have to learn it.” She glanced over at him. “Do you know the song Baa Baa Black Sheep?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you can sing the alphabet to it.”
She began singing and waved her hand, encouraging him to join in—which he did.
God’s teeth.
“I’ll sing it using the alphabet for words.” Her finger moved across the page as she sang the letters. “Now, you join.”
And he did.
It took a few rounds, then…he knew the alphabet by sight.
Knock him down with a feather.
“Keep practicing before our first lesson.” She closed the book and left it in his hand. As if she’d only now noticed how close she was to him, she took a step away. “And, erm, I think it would be best if we conducted the lessons at your townhouse.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, we shall want to keep our arrangement to ourselves.”
Though Blaze happened to agree, irritation needled through him. “Like to keep your bit of rough a secret, do ya?”
She didn’t rise to the bait. “My family is most protective.”
“So, a lady like you will be venturing into the East End for these lessons?”
She didn’t skip a beat. “Your townhouse on Tichborne Street will do.”
He’d asked the question to shock her, but she’d countered him handily, hadn’t she?
“Shall we pick a day to start?” she asked. “Neither Thursdays nor Saturdays will work for me, as I have evening meal with family on those days. Well, technically, Eloise isn’t family, but she’s as good as.”
Blaze nodded. “Let’s leave out Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays, too.”
“Wednesdays, then?”
“That’ll do. But not this Wednesday.”
“Oh?”
Her lifted eyebrows were waiting for an explanation.
He supposed that was all it took for Lady Viveca Calthorp to get every single thing she wanted out of life.
He couldn’t begrudge her that gift.
There were those to whom the universe gave with both hands.
So, though he didn’t owe her, he said, anyway, “I have some business to conduct outside London—”
“Ah, you’ll be at Epsom Downs for Derby Day, correct?”
Derby Day was more like Derby Week, as race day was the least of the bacchanalia. He was setting off tomorrow, actually, to see his interests were in place and running like a freshly oiled clock.
But Lady Viveca didn’t need to know all that, so he nodded.
“Then I shall see you there.”
A sudden laugh ripped through him. “Not bloody likely, if you’ll pardon the old francais.”
Her head tilted to the side. “Why is that?”
“Have our paths ever crossed at a horse race or anywhere else?”
A vertical line formed between her eyebrows. “I rather see your point.”
“Tichborne Street a week from next Wednesday,” he said. “Ten o’clock.”
“At night?”
“Indeed, milady,” he said, and with that, he tipped his hat, waved the primer, and set his feet for the street.
It wasn’t until he was half a block away that his breath released.
Crikes.
What had he just agreed to?
That tidal wave he’d thought might overwhelm him?
It had.
And when such natural disasters overturned the balance of a life, it never returned to its previous state, now did it?
That was the future he foresaw down to the mortal cockles of his soul.