Chapter 8
“Your Grace. Good to see you. It has been a while since you visited our establishment.”
Adrian continued to glare down into Bridget’s wide, honey-colored eyes as Tommy, the guard at the Blue Parrot, greeted him.
“Yes, I have been quite busy with this one, you see,” Adrian answered, sweeping his gaze hungrily over Bridget’s body.
He had come to the Blue Parrot after finding out it was one of the Earl’s favorite establishments, and his jaw had nearly dropped to the ground when he recognized Bridget standing at the door.
She might have been in a simple dress that she wore in the most wicked manner, but after meeting her the previous night, he would have known her face anywhere. After all, what little sleep he had got the night before had been haunted by the dreams of her.
“Well, she tells me she won’t take any new customers tonight. She’s promised to the Earl of Winslow, so she says,” Tommy remarked.
Adrian flicked his eyes to Tommy as he mentioned the Earl.
“Is he here?” Adrian demanded.
“As I told your bird, no,” Tommy replied. “Haven’t seen him in four days.”
Annoyance surged through Adrian’s veins as yet another one of his leads brought him to a dead end.
“Told her to check at Henry’s,” Tommy grunted, nodding toward Bridget.
Recognition sparked in Adrian. Henry’s was a more private, illegal gaming hell just a few streets over. They specialized in high-stakes card games and offered women who were willing to perform more… unusual acts.
“Thank you, Tommy,” Adrian answered, tightening his grip on Bridget’s arm as he looked down at her. “Time for us to go.”
Bridget, who had been silent throughout the entire exchange, just nodded and thankfully did not fight him as he pulled her down the street. He waited until he heard the door to the Blue Parrot shut before he stopped and whirled her around to face him.
“What in God’s name are you doing here?” he demanded.
Desire pooled through his veins and gathered tightly in his groin as he once more swept his gaze down her body.
“And what on earth are you wearing?” he demanded next.
To his surprise, Bridget shoved him away, giving him an indignant look.
“You know well enough that I need to find my husband,” she whispered angrily. “And I am going to do so by any means necessary! I am tired of being made a fool by his actions!”
“And I told you I would handle it and I would keep you informed,” he snarled back, stepping up to her. “You cannot be walking through these streets dressed like that. Do you have any idea of the danger you have put yourself in? How improper this is?”
“I know that,” Bridget retorted, reaching up to her hair.
Another bout of lust hit Adrian hard as her wild curls fell over her shoulders, and she revealed a dagger.
“That is why I have this,” she stated, holding up the dagger between them.
Adrian shook his head, not sure whether to be amused, impressed, or infuriated.
One thing he knew for certain, though, was that he was incredibly aroused not just by the way she looked, but by the determination that ebbed off of her in waves.
And this was an entirely cumbersome thing to be at this time.
“Do you even have any idea how to use that thing?” he asked testily.
“Of course I do,” Bridget said with a shrug, pressing the tip of her left index finger into the blade. “You take the pointy end, and you stick it in the person trying to hurt you.”
Adrian groaned as he reached up to rub his eyes.
“And you truly think you could do that?” he asked when he looked at her again. “That you would be capable of such a thing?”
Bridget’s intense gaze softened a little as she drew the dagger down to her side.
“I am starting to understand that there are many things I am capable of when I stop trying to please everyone around me,” she said quietly.
Her words struck Adrian’s heart, and he felt his anger dull.
“You need to go home,” he said gently. “I will escort you to your carriage and continue the search alone.”
“No, I am coming with you.”
Again, he could not help but take in the scrumptious way she looked in her disguise.
“Absolutely not. You cannot continue your search looking like that.”
Bridget’s breasts swelled higher as she squared her shoulders and leaned back on her hips. Adrian had to focus not to let out a groan. He had to hide her before anyone saw her like that.
“I can. And I will. I am not going home, Your Grace. At least not yet,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Adrian gritted his teeth with renewed frustration, but short of throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her home himself, he understood that this woman was not going to obey.
“Where is your carriage?” he muttered in defeat. “Henry’s is a few streets over.”
The smirk that spread across Bridget’s face nearly had him reaching for her just so he could kiss it away, and he both cursed and sent up a prayer of thanks as she turned her back to him.
“This way, Your Grace,” she said, walking with a confident stride down the darkening street.
Desire hit him hard in the groin as he watched her hips sway. He grabbed the back of his neck as he let out a frustrated growl and then moved to catch up with her.
“This woman will drive me to insanity,” he muttered to himself.
“My lady!” Bridget’s driver exclaimed as she and Adrian approached the carriage. “What happened to your dress? Did those fiends attack you?”
“Worry not, Farley, I made the tears in it myself,” Bridget replied, fluttering her hand through the air.
Adrian felt a surprising surge of possessiveness as he watched the driver’s wide eyes travel up and down his mistress’s body.
“Watch yourself,” he snarled, the words escaping him before he could help it.
Farley’s eyes shot up toward Adrian as his ears turned crimson.
“Farley, this is the Duke of Redgrave,” Bridget explained, opening the carriage door for herself. “He is going to sit up there with you and tell you how to get to our next location. He, too, is on an urgent mission to find my husband.”
Farley bowed his head respectfully toward Adrian before his gaze shot worriedly toward his mistress.
“Next location? My lady, it is growing dark. I really must insist—”
“Do not bother,” Adrian gritted out as he swung himself up onto the driver’s board. “Your mistress has chosen not to listen to reason today.”
“Reason is absent from this entire situation, Your Grace,” Bridget replied haughtily as she leaned out of the carriage door.
He glared down at her in just enough time to catch that smirk of hers, then she drew the door shut.
“Go up to the next intersection and then turn right,” Adrian commanded.
Farley flicked the reins, signaling the horses to move, and the carriage began to travel leisurely down the street.
“Has your mistress always been this way?” Adrian asked, breaking the silence.
Farley glanced over at him.
“Been what way, Your Grace?”
“Obstinate,” Adrian gritted out.
Farley shook his head as his eyes returned to the road.
“Her Ladyship has always had a quiet way about her until of late,” Farley answered.
Adrian’s brows rose, finding that hard to believe.
“Surely you are just trying to be polite,” he insisted.
“I will always be polite to Her Ladyship,” Farley answered. Adrian noted the loyalty in the man’s voice. “I have worked for members of the ton since I was three-and-ten, and I have never been treated so kindly as Her Ladyship treats me.”
That, Adrian decided, was something he could believe.
“What else do you know about her?” Adrian asked.
Farley grew silent again. Adrian sensed his hesitation about discussing his employers and admired him for it.
“You can speak plainly, lad. This is a private conversation that will not go beyond us,” Adrian prompted.
“I know that she does not deserve this,” Farley answered quietly as he turned the carriage onto the next street. “Running about the slums of London to find a husband who does not appreciate her.”
Even though Adrian had insisted that Farley speak plainly, he was shocked at the driver’s words. Still, he knew servants observed more than most members of society would ever understand, and gathered that Farley’s opinion was based on what he had witnessed in the Winslow household.
Adrian dropped the subject, speaking only when Farley needed a new direction. As they travelled for the next several minutes along a busier street where Henry’s was located, Adrian’s curiosity about Bridget deepened.
When they stopped in front of Henry’s, Adrian hopped down from the driver’s board and opened the carriage door for Bridget. She gave him a shocked look as he held his hand out to her, but after a moment, she slid her fingers over his palm.
Sparks traveled up his arm as they joined hands, and Adrian gritted his teeth as he silently reminded himself that the woman was married. Albeit married to an obvious buffoon and possible murderer who did not deserve her.
“Stay by my side and stay quiet,” he demanded. His words came out harsher than he intended, but he did not apologize. Instead, he added, “If we are going to do this, we are going to do it my way.”
He bristled, waiting for Bridget to argue with him, but to his surprise, she nodded her head as she lifted her chin proudly.
His eyes once more roamed down the state of her dress, and he shook his head.
He could not let her walk into Henry’s like this.
The men would snatch at her like starving beasts.
“Farley,” he barked. “Hand me your cloak.”
The driver removed his cloak and handed it over to Adrian without protest, and he quickly wrapped the fabric around Bridget’s shoulders.
“Now, wait a moment—” Bridget started to argue.
“No,” Adrian stated, tying the cloak close together at her throat.
“Your little act will not do well in there. You do not understand what sort of place this is. The men who frequent this establishment will not ask questions as Tommy did. They will simply grab at you. Now keep this on and keep it closed.”
He tugged the sides of the cloak tight around her front so that her dress was completely covered. Bridget glared at him, but she grabbed the edges of the fabric from the inside and held the cloak closed.
With his hand on her back, Adrian led Bridget inside the gaming hell.
He noticed how her eyes went wide with curiosity as they stepped out of the street and into the establishment.
Her head swiveled left to right as she took in the busy card tables, the music of the band, and the sound of boisterous and drunken laughter at the bar.
“Do not wander from me,” he murmured into her ear.
Bridget nodded quietly as her eyes landed on the nearest card table. Her head tilted slightly as she took in the men seated there, and the women who were seated on all of their laps.
“How many of these men are married?” Bridget asked him.
Adrian grimaced at the question.
“Probably all of them,” he answered under his breath. “I told you, this place is not suitable for you. You should not be here.”
Bridget turned to him with a spark of determination glittering in her eyes.
“If my husband is here, then this is exactly where I should be,” she stated plainly.
Again, Adrian marveled at her strength and will.
“Your Grace!”
Adrian forced his eyes away from Bridget as he heard his title being shouted above the melee of sound, and saw one of the gaming hell managers, Tibault, approaching him with a wide, welcoming smile.
“Tibault,” Adrian greeted, forcing a charming smile.
“I hope you are not here to start trouble again, Your Grace,” Tibault said with a chuckle as he extended his hand to Adrian.
From his peripheral vision, he caught Bridget giving him a curious look.
He had visited the establishment approximately six months ago, searching for those who might have had a hand in Evander’s death.
He and Damien had upset quite a few of the other patrons with their intense questioning, and a brawl of sorts had broken out.
“That depends on what you are about to tell me,” Adrian said with a threatening smirk.
The grin on Tibault’s face faded as he let go of Adrian’s hand.
“We are looking for the Earl of Winslow. We were told that he comes here on occasion,” Adrian went on.
Tibault’s gaze fell on Bridget, and Adrian had to fight the urge to stand between them. Then he startled at the thought.
What is wrong with me? Why am I feeling so protective of a woman I barely know?
“You know we do not discuss our patrons, Your Grace,” Tibault replied, still looking at Bridget. “Especially with wives present.”
His eyes flew back to Adrian’s, narrowing.
“I would have heard if you married, Your Grace, so I know she is not yours.”
For a moment, Adrian floundered. He was not sure how Tibault had figured out such a thing.
“You are correct, sir,” Bridget said, taking advantage of the moment of silence.
“Stop,” Adrian whispered as Bridget stepped between him and Tibault.
However, if she heard him, Bridget chose not to obey and only leered up at Tibault.
“I am the Earl of Winslow’s wife. My husband has been missing for going on four days now, and it is time that he returned home.”
Tibault’s gaze hardened, though he gave a forced bow of his head.
“With all due respect, my lady, I have no answers for you. The marital status of our patrons is none of our business, and when they are inside these walls, their privacy is protected.”
“Lord Winslow has been missing,” Adrian intervened. “Surely you understand how worrisome that could be for a wife?”
“And I sympathize,” Tibault replied, glaring hard down at Bridget. “But we cannot bend our rules. If word got out that we allowed wives in our business, it would be ruined.”
“That is a shame,” Bridget quickly replied. “For I am not leaving until you either tell me if my husband is here or you allow us to look around for ourselves.”
Adrian watched as Tibault’s eyes darkened and his mouth grew into a sneer.
“Respectfully, my lady. Go home where you should be.”
“Bridget,” Adrian murmured in her ear. “Perhaps you should go wait in the carriage. Maybe I can—”
Before Adrian could finish his sentence, Bridget’s leg shot out from the confines of her cloak and kicked at Tibault’s shin.
His brows rose, and his mouth dropped open as her foot made contact.
Tibault let out a grunt of pain as he reached for the assaulted area, and as quick as a flash, Bridget bolted away from both of them.
This woman will be the death of me.