Chapter Eight
T he next evening as Griff, Cole, and Dell brought their game of Hazard to a close in the Athenaeum Club, he looked at his friends and stretched. “I think I’ll head over to The Market now. If anyone would be interested in joining me, I have guest tokens.”
Lou had sent a note suggesting he stop by, though she had been clear her meeting had not taken place yet. Griff was curious about what she wanted if the meeting had not occurred.
As for his friends…well, she had given him guest tokens, and for once they were having an amiable night with Dell. It was reminiscent of days gone by.
Both men grinned.
“Bloody hell, I have heard that members can invite friends, but it seemed you’d never ask.” Cole stood with alacrity as Dell followed suit.
“Always wanted to see the inside of those hallowed halls.” Dell grinned wolfishly.
“Heading off somewhere?” Sir Francis Hathaway, a vague acquaintance of theirs, walked into the game room as they were leaving.
“Yes, off to our next stop.” Griff offered a strained smile to the known Voltacrat.
“Apologies, Sir Francis, but we are off,” chimed in Dell, smiling jovially. “I had hoped to have a word with you about locomotive steam engine development. Perhaps we can have a drink here at the club tomorrow?”
Griff couldn’t help but wonder what that was about. Sir Francis was one of those members who he would argue didn’t belong in the Athenaeum Club, but then he was a member, and a supporter rather than an actual contributor to modern technology.
“I’ll be here any time after five o’clock tomorrow afternoon.” Sir Francis nodded. “By the by, how is your uncle? I haven’t seen him about lately.”
Dell clapped Sir Francis’ arm. “Still holed up in his Scottish estate. Claims he hates London and all the congestion. I shall tell him you asked after him when I write to him next.”
“You do that,” Sir Francis replied and moved past them as they continued their progress through the club.
Griff’s brows drew together at the notion that Dell and his uncle corresponded so regularly. Last he knew the man sent Dell an annual note at most. At least, that had been true when they were boys. But then his thoughts returned to their next destination, and a new concern wafted up. “Listen you two, you had best behave yourselves. No making a fool of me at The Market, if you please.”
The pair laughed and slapped him on the back as they all headed out of the club.
“I can’t imagine either of us doing such a thing.” Cole smiled wickedly, and Griff was suddenly regretting the invitation.
“When did you become a member of The Market? I heard a rumor about you and the place, but dismissed it as mere innuendo,” Dell said as they piled into Griff’s carriage.
Odd—where would Dell have heard that rumor? Griff swallowed and tried to dig up the nonchalance he knew he should feel at such a question. He and Lou had discussed how he might answer this question if he was asked. “I met an intriguing lady quite by accident, and she happens to be Madame LaRoux. I managed to arrange a contract with her.”
“Met? Where did you two meet?” Cole asked with a gleam of mischief in his eyes.
Dell leaped on the question. “Yes, where on earth would someone as boring as you meet such a notorious madam?”
“You could say we bumped into each other under unusual circumstances. We became thick as thieves right away.” Griff silently pleaded that his friend would accept that at face value. This version at least, technically, wasn’t a lie.
“Now that sounds like a good story. Do tell,” Dell urged with a salacious grin.
The carriage pulled to a stop, rocking slightly. “We have arrived, most unfortunately for you—I suppose I shall have to tell the tale of our meeting another time.” Griff shrugged and hopped out of the carriage before Dell could make further inquiries.
Moments later, they walked into The Market and were greeted by Philippe. “Good evening, my lord, gentlemen. Masks for anyone?”
The man seemed to have an uncanny knowledge of who was who and how to greet them. Of course, Griff had been there before, so he was at least familiar—but Cole and Dell had never been. He’d have to ask Lou how the man did that. It was quite the skill.
“Anyone require a mask?” Griff tossed the question over his shoulder to his friends.
“Not for me,” Cole chirped happily.
“I’ll take one,” Dell said.
Phillipe handed him a simple black mask that his friend donned, though Griff found it laughable since they were all together as usual. It’s not as if anyone wouldn’t know who their companion was. But he supposed if it made Dell more comfortable its was nothing to remark on. “Is Madame around this evening?”
“Of course, my lord. You will find her in the main salon.” Philippe motioned toward the large, open archway across the entry hall from where they stood.
The trio pressed forward, bypassing a few people Griff was fairly certain he knew, but who wore masks. While the masks at The Market had always been the patron’s choice, in the last ten years as England had become more sexually open, the need to hide one’s identity had fallen away for most. He had not bothered to don one himself. He and Lou had determined it was best if it was clear he had an arrangement with her.
As they entered the main salon, Griff spotted Lou sitting comfortably, an elaborate filigreed mask in place that matched her ensemble— so that hadn’t been just for me —in a chair surrounded by young and old men alike. She was truly enchanting when she chose to be charming, and based on her bevy of admirers, she’d been turning on the charm this evening.
Griff approached his current lover with his friends in tow as a very unexpected green-eyed monster reared its head. “Here you are, Madame LaRoux, tempting all these poor devils despite the fact you’ll be spending your evening with me.” He grinned in a parody of a smile, still reeling from the realization that he was, in fact, a jealous man.
She trilled a fake laugh that had him cringing inside. “Lord Melton, you of all men should know you can’t keep a lady , such as myself, waiting.” She let one brow rise in silent rebuke.
Griff chuckled. “Touché, Madame. Touché.” He drew in a breath. “Now, perhaps you would be kind enough to extricate yourself from so many admirers and come meet my friends.”
She nodded. “Very well, my lord.” Turning to her collection of men, she smiled. “Thank you all for keeping me company while I waited for Lord Melton. You turned this into a diverting evening.” The soft lilt of her fake French accent made her words sound even more gracious.
To a man they bowed as she stood and approached him. Griff wanted to whisk her away to her private rooms and ravish her, remind her who she belonged to, if only for the next six months. He mentally sighed. This is quickly becoming a problem . He’d just been with her the night prior. How could he possibly be so in need of a woman he’d just had? He’d gone months without a woman before with no issue.
It was her. She was the problem. There was something about Madame LaRoux— no, Lou —that was utterly intoxicating.
Bowing to the lovely lady as she joined them, Griff took in her gown of red and black satin that once again bared her long, luscious legs to every man’s view. Though this time they were encased in black stockings that looked more like thin black wires encasing her legs than hosiery, the effect was still devastating when paired with her little ankle high button side boots.
“Madame LaRoux, may I present my companions Captain Colechester Chapman and Mr. Lawrence Dellinger?” He left off that Dell was the Under-Secretary of Steam for the Bureau of Modern Technology, since he’d opted for a mask. He seemed to desire some level of privacy this evening.
Lou smiled widely in welcome. “Gentlemen, The Market is pleased to have you join us this evening.”
Cole took her hand in his and bowed over it. He then flipped her hand over and pressed a wholly inappropriate kiss to her palm. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madame.”
Griff wanted to throttle his overly flirtatious friend.
Next, Dell bowed to her and placed a slightly more appropriate kiss on the back of her hand. “Enchanted, Madame. I can see now why Griff is so be-spelled by you.”
The person in question sputtered and coughed as heat crept up his face.
Lou laughed, low and throaty, sending shivers down Griff’s spine while causing half the men in the room to turn and look toward them. “Griff, where have you been keeping these two charmers?”
Annoyed with his friends, who he had specifically told to behave on their way here, he straightened up stiffly. “In a dungeon to which I should promptly return the pair.”
Lou laughed again and cast a small look of surprise his way. “Oh, don’t be jealous. They are adorable!”
Cole winked. “See Griff, best behavior.”
The charming woman in their midst smiled and stepped between the two men. “Now, Captain Chapman, Mr. Dellinger, please tell me what you look for in a companion.” She began to steer them further into the room leaving Griff to trail sullenly behind.
“I prefer a woman with a sweet and responsive demeanor. I bark enough orders at the crew of the Air Nymph, I prefer a woman who can follow direction and maybe take the lead when needed, but is still soft and womanly. And please, call me Cole,” said Griff’s terribly charming friend.
“Perfect! I have just the companion for you this evening.” They stopped before a masked woman who sat pleasantly chatting with two men who looked very disappointed when Madame stopped near them. “La, Mary Margaret, I should like to introduce you to Captain Colechester Chapman.”
The woman, Mary Margaret, stood up and curtsied to the men she’d been sitting with. “Gentlemen it was a pleasure chatting with you.” Then she turned to them—or more aptly, Cole—and curtsied again. “Why Captain, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She looked up at Griff’s friend with big green eyes framed by a cascade of golden brown hair that was pulled back from her face in some kind of half-up style that suited her even with her mask obscuring the upper half of her face.
Cole bowed, taking her hand and used the same palm up kiss on the woman that he had on Lou. It settled the green-eyed monster riding Griff, but only a bit. “The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.”
Mary Margaret smiled sweetly up at Cole, the woman barely coming up to his chest.
“If you will see to entertaining Cole this evening, I would appreciate it.” Lou nodded in satisfaction as she handed Cole’s hand over to Mary Margaret.
“Of course, Madame.” She smiled and winked at Cole. “He’ll be in the best of hands with me.”
“Excellent.” Lou turned to Dell and led him further into the room. “Now for you, Mr. Dellinger?”
“Please, Dell will do fine,” he winked. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to throw old Griff over and take up with me this evening?”
Griff couldn’t help but growl at Dell’s suggestion, which of course only made Lou laugh harder. “Oh dear, I don’t think he liked that suggestion.”
His idiotic friend grinned. “I didn’t think he would. Well, if you are not available, perhaps a woman with dark hair and eyes who might have an air of mystery about her? Someone unusual?”
“Hmmm.” Lou paused their step a moment and then angled them to the very back of the room where a lone woman—also wearing a mask—stood leaning against the wall. “Elena, I would like to introduce a dear friend of Lord Melton’s. This is Mr. Lawrence Dellinger.”
Elena pushed up from the wall, crossed her arms, and eyed the man as though doing a thorough assessment of him. If Griff wasn’t mistaken, she seemed to find Dell—lacking. But then her lips curled up on one side in a half smile. “He’ll do,” she said, standing still and not offering her hand or any pleasantry.
Dell coughed. “Will I, indeed? How gracious of you to allow me your esteemed company. Precisely how will I do?”
Griff groaned silently. This was not going well.
Elena smiled like the cat that got the cream. “You look fit and hale enough to keep up with me.” Her light Spanish accent slipped out as she threw down the gauntlet. “Assuming you haven’t spent too much time stuck behind a desk or a card table.”
Her words purred from her mouth in a sultry sound that confused Griff. He could only imagine how Dell was taking such challenge.
Dell straightened up, clearly willing to meet said challenge. “I am more than capable of keeping up with a woman.” He paused. “Any woman.” He then looked at Lou and bared his teeth. “She’ll do.”
Lou nodded and slipped away, leaving the pair to move forward as they wished. When she finally tucked her hand into the crook of Griff’s arm, he looked at her confused.
“Why the devil—”
She leaned over and patted his chest as she cut him off. “Not here, wait until we get to my room and I shall explain.”
Curious as the devil, but realizing there was something at play here which he did not understand, Griff nodded and escorted her from the main salon and up the stairs. Neither spoke as they made their way to her rooms. He was content to just be near her and alone…or as alone as one could be in the hallways of The Market. Once inside her chambers, Lou locked the door, removed her mask, and led him back to the settee.
“Thank you for holding your questions until we were alone. I’m sure that was…challenging,” she added with a smile.
“Why on earth did you leave Dell with that woman? They seemed terribly unsuited.” He asked the question that was burning to get free.
“But were they unsuited?” His paramour waited, her head cocked to one side slightly. “Stop and consider the body language between them, as well as what was said.”
Griff considered what he saw, or perhaps what he thought he saw, once more. The woman had held herself straight and tall, arms crossed, and posture perfect. She’d felt closed off, to him. As though she did not find Dell appealing. But then she had smiled at his friend, though again, it could have been one that suggested future torment rather than pleasure. Dell seemed equally rigid and spoiling for a fight from what he could see behind him. He thought about the words exchanged and still couldn’t see the attraction. “I feel as though I was in a very different room than you.”
Lou laughed that same low, sexy laugh she’d uttered downstairs. Not one she put on for show, then. “Let me tell you what I saw. I saw a woman who took notice of a man as soon as he approached causing her to push up from the wall. I saw a woman who crossed her arms and pushed her breasts up on display. And I saw a woman—who is aggressive on a good day—challenge a man in a way she knew he was unlikely to backdown from. Even had I missed all of that, her eyes said it all. She found him attractive. When he responded in kind, whether he would acknowledge it or not, he found her equally alluring.”
Griff huffed out a breath of surprise. “How did I miss all of that?”
Lou laid a hand on his arm an expression that came just shy of sympathy. “Because you have not been trained to read all the nuances. You were taught to read basic body language and social cues, not the deeper subtext that I as both an assassin and a madame would need to understand. That subtext, and my or one of my girls’ ability to read that subtext, can mean the difference between staying whole and healthy…and being seriously injured. Possibly even killed.”
His gut curdled.
“To be honest, that is true for all women. It’s a survival skill we all develop from a young age as the fairer sex. It helps most of us to avoid the kinds of situations that might put us in harm’s way on a day to day basis,” Lou said, sadness pulling at her face.
A wave of nausea rolled through him at the realization that a woman must think about common interactions in such a manner. Did his mother feel so eternally threatened? Certainly as a man he always sought to protect the fairer sex, and he knew other men were not of his ilk. But to feel so unsafe every day? “How have I been so…so oblivious?”
“Because you are a man. You’ve never had to walk into a room full of strange men and worry about which one might be a predator. Which one might make unwanted advances or otherwise put your reputation at risk.” Lou paused. “But I digress. The important thing you need to know is that both Mary Margaret and Elena work for me, and they are well trained.”
Confusion swirled with the disquiet that roiled inside him. “Of course they work for you, they are here, at The Market.”
Lou smiled indulgently, and Griff once again felt like a lost little boy. “I mean they are trained assassins, as I am. I trained them myself. They are able to keep your friends safe, satisfy them in bed, and ferret out any information which may help us solve the mystery before us.”
“What?” Griff had thought he’d brought his friends for a pleasant evening at The Market, not an interrogation. Not even Dell, who he worried was headed down a separate path from he and Cole, deserved that. “I didn’t bring them here to be questioned—I have no suspicions of either of them in relation to this matter. I’ve known both since we were school boys.”
Lou sighed softly. “I find threats often come from the most unlikely of sources. Spouses, lovers, friends, even family. Fear not, however, they will not be tied up and questioned—unless of course they prefer that.” She winked cheekily. “In the course of their evening entertainments, Mary Margaret and Elena will tease out any information in very subtle but effective ways. They likely won’t even notice what they do or don’t say. As far as they are concerned they are about to have the night of their lives. I promise you.”
Griff looked at her, worry and doubt drawing his brows into a furrow. “I don’t like it. They are my friends.”
Lou stood up. “Which is why I didn’t tell you until we were up here. If all is as you say, then no harm will come of this evening. If there is anything to be concerned about from either quarter, we shall be aware of it by tomorrow.” She shrugged one shoulder with an insouciance Griff did not feel.
Lou walked over to where the decanters sat and poured him a drink before returning to the settee and handing it to him. “Here. It will settle your nerves. I promise all they will experience is the pleasurable evening you promised in bringing them here.”
Griff looked at her as he took the glass and a fresh worry surged to the fore. He froze for a moment. What if she put something in my drink? To drug me, or worse poison me?
No. They had already been intimate—she’d had plenty of opportunity to kill him again or worse. But what if she used the same tactics on him? Would he tell her his secret?
Griff tossed the drink down his throat and resolved to not worry about such things. The truth was so deeply buried, his own friends didn’t suspect who he really was.
How could Lou possibly discover it?