Page 56 of The Duelist for the Ton
Before the man could respond, footsteps crunched on the gravel and Portia turned to see two men approaching, Lord Francis and…
“Sweet Lord—Adam!”
“Hush!” Nerissa whispered.
Lord Francis approached Sir Heath and extended his hand. “Well met. Dunton, I didn’t expect to see you outside at this hour. That must be a great loss to the bawdy houses of London.”
“I might say the same for your friend there,” Dunton said. “I’d have thought you’d be buried inside that slut of yours at this hour, Foxton.”
Portia’s brother approached Dunton, then he paused and turned toward her, his eyes glittering with distaste. For a heartbeat, brother and sister stared at each other, and she bit her lip to stem the cry of fear.
“Have a care,” Nerissa whispered, taking her hand.
Then he resumed his attention on Dunton.
Portia exhaled, but the knots in her stomach failed to loosen. She curled her hands into fists to stem the shaking, but she couldn’t temper the tremors.
“He’s not recognized you,” Nerissa whispered. “And he won’t if you stay silent. I’ll do the talking.”
“He might recognizeyou.”
“I doubt that. Your brother wouldn’t recognize any of his servants out of uniform. He can’t tell one from the other.”
“What’s that you’re saying, Mr. Farthing?” Sir Heath said.
“Nothing to concern you, Sir Heath,” Nerissa said. “My master is merely eager to proceed.”
Lord Francis turned toward Portia. “Oh,fuck.”
“Precisely,” Sir Heath said, triumph in his tone. He gestured toward Portia. “My friend’s reputation precedes him.”
I amnotyour friend.
“I don’t suppose you fancy calling it a night?” Lord Francis said. “I’ll stand you a brandy at White’s for your trouble.”
“Ahem,” Dunton said.
“And Dunton too, of course. I appreciate the effort it must have taken to tear yourself away from Mrs. Green’s bawdy house to come here tonight.”
“Good God!” Adam said. “Is Mrs. Green still alive? She must be sixty at least.”
“With age comes experience and a wealth of talent,” Sir Heath said. “That thing she does with her tongue—I’ve never had the like. Not even Lady Fra…” He trailed off and cocked his head to one side, staring at Lord Francis.
“So it’syoushe learned that from,” Lord Francis said. “I ought to be grateful.”
Sweet Lord!Portia swallowed her nausea. No matter what Lady Francis’s faults might be, she was Lord Francis’s wife and his duty was to defend her honor.
“Perhaps you ought to charge for your wife’s services, Francis,” Adam said. “It would help settle your debts.”
“That’s not a bad idea, Foxton,” Lord Francis said, with a chuckle. “What say you, a guinea a time? She’s been lusting afteryousince her first Season.”
“I doubt that,” Adam said. “I was still in the cradle back then. Perhaps you mean my grandfather? By all accounts, members of the weaker sex couldn’t resist his talents in the bedchamber.”
“Bloody hell, Foxton, I ought to call you out for that.” Lord Francis glanced in Portia’s direction. “Though doubtless you’d hire this fellow to do the deed for you.”
“Hire him yourself,” Adam said, wrinkling his nose in a sneer, and she shivered at the loathing in his voice. “I wouldn’t stoop to dealing with such an underhand creature. Worse than a whore you are, Mr. Farthing—or whatever your name is.”
He stepped toward her, and Nerissa squeezed her hand.
