Page 56 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
The place was busy, with dozens of men—and a few women, blouses unbuttoned low to show off their skin—laughing and calling to one another. Other harried-looking women darted between the tables, carrying overloaded trays of beer from the bar.
A few tables had food on them, but most were covered in glasses and flagons.
Ellie slid to the side of the door, hoping the shadows would hide her, and peered around the room, near breathless with a sort of excitement and fear of discovery.
There!
In the far corner! There were two people sitting there, a bundle between them on the table, rather than drinks. One was an older woman, her shawl pulled tightly around her, and the other…
It was Fawkes. Without a hat, the light from the candle flames picked up the red in his hair, making him a beacon.
Ellie stepped out of the shadows—one, two, three steps—peering toward him. He was hunched over the table, casting it into shadow…when he straightened, she saw he was counting money. Counting it, then sliding it into his wallet.
He lifted his head and said something to the older woman, something which made her laugh and him grin. Across the crowded room, with the sound slamming into her from all directions now, Ellie couldn’t make out the words, but that smile…
Fawkes’s smile reached into her chest andsqueezed.
His smile transformed him.
And she was suddenly jealous of that woman who made him smile. Who was she? Was she like the other women in the room, those who were sitting on laps and whispering in ears? She didn’t look like them, but she was withFawkes.
Oh my goodness, is this jealousy? Itisjealousy, is it not?
Bah.
Ellie looked away, only for her gaze to land on a table of what she guessed were sailors. Two of them had women on their laps, a blonde and a red-head. The women seemed to be…enjoying themselves.
As she watched, one man slid his hand up the blonde’s leg. Despite the cold, she tucked up her skirts high, showing off her stockings, and the man’s hand disappeared under them. She gave a shrill laugh and wriggled against him, even as she captured his other hand and brought it to her breast.
The way he squeezed it made Ellie catch her breath.
The woman threw her arm around the man’s shoulder, tugging his face down toward her bosom. When he licked the skin at the top of her breasts, even as his hand kneaded the other, Ellie felt another flush of heat in her core.
Was she…becomingarousedby watching a strangeruseanother woman?
She glanced away, only for her gaze to land on the red-head. She sat in a skinny man’s lap but leaned forward, her mouth on the neck of a larger man beside him. The skinny man was thrusting his hips upward against her arse, and her hands were both below the table, moving frantically in the region of his lap.
Oh.
Oh my.
Flushing—in embarrassment and surprising arousal—Ellie whirled away.
Only to be distracted by the bartender. “Oi, love, ye lost? Or ye looking for company? If ye don’t want company, climb up here, and I’ll pour ye a drink.”
He was old, yes, and grinning happily. She stumbled toward him, confused by her reaction to this strange new world. “Are you Gus?” she managed to wring out.
“Auld Gus, that’s me!” he beamed as he carefully spread dirt around a glass. “I’m flattered, little lady. Want a beer?”
“N—No thank you. I am looking for someone. A man.”
“Well, ye’ve come to the right place! We have all sorts of men here. Fat men, skinny men. Poor men, poorer men, broke men. Young men…auld men.” He waggled his brows fiercely. “Please say ye’re looking for a broke auld man.”
Ellie opened her mouth, shocked but also a little charmed. “I…”
She had no idea how to continue, but didn’t have to. A large hand closed around her upper arm.
“Dinnae fash, Auld Gus,” came a familiar drawl, “the lass is here forme.”
