Chapter 6 #3
King followed her, feeling like the wolf she had named him stalking a sweet, tender lamb, before reminding himself Mrs Adamson was nothing of the sort.
She was no innocent, but a widow, despite her youth, and she had already shown her teeth.
He did not doubt she had sharp claws too and would use them to devastating effect if she felt the least bit threatened.
Not that King had any intention of doing so.
What glory was there to be had in taking something by force or by underhand means?
No. He would have Mrs Adamson come to him, wanting him and him alone, or he would not have her at all.
“Please be seated,” she said, crisp and businesslike now as she surveyed their dinner.
A small round table, not unlike those in the dining room that were set for two, had been arranged, with a larger table beside it. This was covered, though not crowded, with a variety of chafing dishes.
They began with chestnut soup, which was delicious, and moved through dressed crabs and baked sole and onto the roast meats.
Throughout, King studied her, admiring her elegance, at how right it seemed to see her presiding over such a table.
She did not pick at her food, though she did not eat nearly as heartily as he, and he wondered if this was good manners, her usual habit, or nerves.
“Mrs Fairway is to be commended,” he remarked, carving a quantity of roast beef before offering Mrs Adamson the choicest pieces.
“She will be gratified to hear you say so,” she replied. “Do help yourself to wine, Mr King. I believe the Bordeaux in the decanter to your right to be just the thing for the roast beef.”
“I sincerely doubt anything I have to say would gratify Mrs Fairway,” he replied with a wry smile, pouring her a glass of the red wine before helping himself.
“You wrong her. Indeed, you do. She admires you a good deal.”
King snorted, cutting into a slice of roast beef that was perfectly pink and exquisitely tender.
“Oh, yes, and I imagine she was delighted to discover I was to dine with you, alone in your rooms. Is she outside the door this moment, brandishing a pistol, perhaps? I assure you, I would not be surprised.”
To his delight, she laughed at that and raised her glass to him. “Perhaps that is true, though no, she is not outside the door, but I cannot say for sure she does not own a pistol.”
“I would not bet against it,” King replied, grinning now.
“Tell me about yourself then, Mr King. We have established you are a wolf, but perhaps not one as black as you have been painted? You say you are a businessman, but I do not know what manner of business you are involved in.”
King regarded her with amusement and appreciation. She refused to be daunted by him, nor to shy away from subjects most would never dare to broach.
“What have you heard?”
She inclined her head, her lips pursed as she considered that, and King had the sudden and urgent desire to go to her and press his own lips against that soft pout to prove what it was about him made her cast him as a wolf. Instead, he tightened his grip on his knife and fork and endured.
“I heard you were born here, the son of a poor fisherman.”
“True,” he said, watching her face for any sign of disgust at the low origins of his birth.
There were none, but then she had surely guessed he was no gentleman.
Upon hearing his name, Mrs Fairway must have told her just who he was, and King of the Rookeries was hardly a title given over to a respectable man.
“I hear you were friends with William Jenner.”
“Untrue,” he almost growled, the idea of his name being spoken in the same breath as that vile creature more than he could stomach, though he feared he was not being as honest as he might have been.
He scowled for a moment and then sighed.
“We were the same age, in the same place, I suppose we were friends of a sort, but I never trusted the devil, and nowadays, I wouldn’t spit upon Bill if he were on fire, if you’ll excuse the coarseness of my language.
He was a part of my youth, an inescapable part.
When we were young, our fathers worked and drank together, and I could no more avoid him in this place than I could my da, though I promise you I tried. ”
“I see,” she said, and he could sense as much as see the relief his words gave her.
“He does not trouble you?” he asked, suddenly appalled by the notion that Bill might have the temerity to do so.
“Oh, no. Indeed, not, and I am quite capable of dealing with the likes of him,” she said, and with such scorn he smiled. Lord, but she was a wonder, for he did not doubt her words. “It is only that I am sorely tempted to set the fire myself.”
There was such anger in her eyes, her temper showing so readily and fiercely that King felt his breath catch. “Why, if he does not trouble you?”
“Because men like Mr Jenner are contemptible, and any woman with the misfortune to be caught in his net ought to be set free as a matter of Christian charity.”
King considered her words, hearing the rage in them, the frustration at not being able to do something she clearly considered very necessary.
“His wife,” he said slowly.
“His wife,” she agreed.
“Ah.” King set down his knife and fork with a frown. “I’d heard he had married but not given it much thought. Damn him.”
“Quite so,” she agreed, and then let out a breath. “Forgive me. I ought not to raise such topics during dinner. I am afraid it is so long since I attended a formal dinner, I have quite forgotten my manners.”
“Your manners are just fine, and no topic is off limits with me, Mrs Adamson. You speak as you wish, as candidly as you desire, about whatever you want to discuss.”
She looked startled by that, gazing at him with such a mixture of surprise and interest that he wondered if perhaps he had finally raised himself in her estimation. “You do not think it wrong of a woman to discuss politics then, or finance?”
He laughed at that, lifting his glass and regarding her over the rim.
“You are running a successful business, Mrs Adamson. That gown you are wearing is worth a small fortune, as are the pearls about your throat and in your beautiful hair. Every gown you wear is expensive, the entire hotel is the height of luxury and decorated with the best of everything. I did right by you when I bought those rubies, but somehow, I think you would not live so lavishly if you were not assured of your income. I may be wrong, but—”
“You’re not wrong,” she said, looking as if she had startled herself now by answering so honestly.
King shrugged. “Then you have every right to speak with the voice of experience about finance, and about politics, for no woman of intelligence can fail to see how the decisions made in parliament might affect her own life. Perhaps we would agree upon such subjects, perhaps we would not, but I would never deny myself the opportunity to spar with a mind as lively as yours.”
He saw at once the depth of pleasure his words gave her, the way her skin flushed, her eyes bright with appreciation.
“You are… an unusual man, Mr King,” she said at length.
The words slid under his skin, and he recognised them for the compliment they were. “And you are an unusual woman,” he replied, raising his glass and drinking, but never taking his eyes from hers.
Her flush deepened then, the suggestion that like ought to cleave to like implicit.
Before he could act upon their sudden intimacy, she reached out and grasped a small brass bell he had not noticed until that moment.
She gave it a sharp ring and a moment later the door opened.
Mr Cogger hurried in, giving King a wary look and clearly sighing with relief to discover there was no trouble.
King almost laughed at the notion Mr Cogger could have saved her if aught was amiss but then checked himself.
She knew that as well as he did and had not believed herself in any danger.
The notion pleased him, for he wished her to believe him honourable in that much, and at least to trust him as far as she would trust any man—which he suspected was not far at all.
“You may clear the table and bring the ices, if you would, Mr Cogger.”
“How are you, Sid?” King enquired as the man began loading a tray with dishes. “Is life treating you well?”
Sid flashed him a grin. “Landed in clover, I did, King. Reckon I should thank ye for that. Better late than never, eh?” he added over his shoulder.
King snorted, hearing the fellow chuckling as he hefted the tray out of the room. Turning, he met Mrs Adamson’s amused gaze.
“He’s a dear fellow, and though he will be most vexed, I shall get more staff next year. He’s not as young as he once was, though he works like an ox and has been such a help to me I would have been quite lost without him, so I shall thank you too, Mr King, for releasing him.”
“Is that what I did?” King said with a laugh. “He was supposed to see you safely here and come back once he was assured you were settled and needed nothing more but never showed his face again. I never released a blasted thing.”
“Well, we do still need him,” she replied playfully, before adding with a more serious tone, “but if he’d been afraid of you, he would have returned at once.
It has always puzzled me that he was not afraid, knowing a little of your reputation, but now that I have met you, I believe you are a fair man if people deal fairly with you. ”
“I would like to believe that much is true,” King replied.