Chapter 10 #2
“Madam, please allow me to apologize for absolutely everything happening in this room,” Beck said, turning to face her with a sigh and a shrug. “I would shake your hand, but I am afraid I am filthy.”
“Aye you are,” Ember purred. “How are you demolishing that building, then? Charging at it with your head down?”
“I do not mind, sir. You are doing good works,” Dot answered, giving a very kind smile and extending her hand anyway.
“I am truly pleased to finally meet you. I’m afraid I cannot stay, however.
My daughter has been terrorizing the new governess, and I am worried about leaving them alone together for too long in these early days. ”
“Bless her,” Ember sighed. “Sweet Vivian.”
“Please feel free to deliver the draft to the publishing house if you are pleased with it,” she said to all assembled. “I am not precious about edits if you require them, nor custodianship of the piece. I think the sooner you shame the ton into action, the better.”
She departed as though she were leaving a polite high tea, rather than a circus in a gambling den, and Beck couldn’t help but respect that. He watched her go and then turned to Ember, disbelief in his eyes, pointed at the door, and said, “You know that woman?”
“That woman is one of my dearest friends,” she answered, clearly very pleased with herself. “Now, go have another drink before you melt.”
He sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “I really ought to get back to the demolition,” he said half-heartedly as he watched Hannah float back over to the bar, commencing the process of making him another pink gin concoction without even being asked. “It’s only barely midday.”
“If you go back out like that, you’re going to catch sick,” Reed said, leaning back against the window and giving him the once-over. “I’m guessing the only reason you made it here in the first place is because you were in a good froth. I’ll run to the Vixen and get you some proper clothes.”
“Good idea,” said Ember. “Maybe we can cobble together a bath for you in the back rooms here so you don’t immediately condemn said clothes to the rubbish heap, hm? Let me go see what I can find.”
He stood in place until she’d gone, vanishing behind the swinging door to the back hall while humming a rude ditty under her breath, and then turned to where Hannah awaited him behind the bar, two drinks in front of her and a gentle smile on her face.
He sighed but could not help the lure of going to her where she stood.
“I don’t need two,” he said, a little embarrassed that he seemed so very needful of liquor.
“I know,” she said, wrapping her fingertips around one of the glasses. “This one is for me. Salut.”
He stared. He gaped. He let her tap her glass to his.
“I have missed you,” she said, which was perhaps the only thing that could startle him back into motion. “Thank you for the lilies. I love them.”
“You are very welcome,” he answered, frozen in horror at the way her eyes were glued to his chest, exposed and dirt-streaked.
I have missed you too.
He tried to say it. He tried to get the words out.
I think of very little else.
He said nothing.
“Do you think she’ll find a proper bathtub, or try to make you wedge into a mop bucket?” Hannah asked with a little smile, leaning back against the rear bar and rolling her glass against her bottom lip. “I suppose anything is better than nothing.”
He gave a dry chuckle, picking up his glass and tossing half of the contents into his mouth with a quick, wincing gulp. “Honestly,” he said, “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a bathtub large enough to be comfortable.”
“Oh,” she answered, dragging the syllable out as her eyes traveled over the breadth of his shoulders, widening with every centimeter. “Oh, yes, I … yes, that makes sense.”
He cleared his throat, uncertain if he should laugh or blush. “I should have one made,” he said, truly unclear on why he was continuing this particular topic of conversation. “I’ve considered it.”
“You should,” she agreed dreamily. “Something nice, in marble or copper, with claws for feet. I should like to see it.”
“Would you?” he asked, raising his brows.
She couldn’t be this oblivious, could she? She couldn’t be saying all of these things without realizing, at least a little bit …
“Oh, yes,” she answered, sipping at her drink, holding his eye. “I suspect even with a very large tub, you’ll need someone to help you wash your back. Won’t you?”
“Hannah,” he said, low and firm. “You really shouldn’t say things like that.”
She blinked at him, like he’d asked her not to pluck wildflowers in a field. “Why not?”
“Because,” he answered, draining what remained of the glass and setting it down with a sigh, “I can only play this game for so long.”
“What game, Mr. Beck?” she whispered, those big eyes darting over his face. “I am not playing a game.”
He watched her, his blood simmering in hot little bubbles under his skin. If the bar weren’t between them just now …
“Hannah, I am trying very hard to keep my distance,” he said with some effort. “You deserve so much more than I … than …”
“I know what I deserve,” she breathed, dropping her gaze to his mouth. “Why do you think I wrote to you? So you could keep your distance?”
“Hannah!” he moaned, his fingers curling around the edge of the bar. “You really must stop.”
She set her jaw, taking another draw of her drink and setting the glass to the side. “I’m not going to,” she said, softly but firmly. “I’m not going to stop.”
He stared at her, aghast.
She made an annoyed little noise, clicking her tongue, shaking her head. “You don’t understand. I haven’t had time to have a proper talk with you about any of this. I have a year. Only a year to—”
“All right, come on, Teddy,” Ember called from the back rooms. “It’s tepid and tiny, but we’ll get you clean. Hannah, love, can you make sure those clothes are laid out the instant dear Mr. Reed comes back from the Vixen?”
“Yes, Ember!” she sang in response, not breaking her gaze on him, not faltering even an inch. “Of course!”
Beck was careful standing. He took his time. He didn’t look away either.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said to her, low enough so that they would not be overheard. “You are having a fine time, frolicking in the underworld for a diversion here and there, but you don’t want to make your home here. You deserve so much better.”
“Do not insult me,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “I just told you that I know what I deserve. I deserve you, Thaddeus Beck. And I intend to have you.”
He stared at her. He glowered.
He expected her to wilt. When she did not, he threw his hands up and quit the confrontation entirely.
He did not know what to say. He certainly did not know what to do.
And he hoped the bath that awaited him was very, very cold.