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Now that he had the audience he wanted, his words deserted him. Was he truly about to confess he’d been so driven by desire that he came to bother the proprietress of Hades’ Hell in the ungodly hours of the morning?

He cleared his throat. “I’d like to speak with the woman I was with last night.”

“We are closed, as you can see,” she replied evenly. “So no transaction will be taking place here right now.”

His entire face burned from humiliation. He was like a lustful boy unable to tame his urges, coming hat in hand to beg for relief. “It’s not for a tryst,” he said hastily. “I merely wish to speak with her.” He wanted to see her, hoping that would clear his mind. More importantly, clear the image of Honoria out of his mind. Perhaps seeing the actual woman would break this spell of confusion.

She studied him, her eyes narrowed, then lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Certainly.”

She walked around her desk and sat behind it, opening a thick book and leafing through it, her finger tracing down a page of neat entries.

“My name is Jacob Caldwell, if you need to—”

“I know,” she interrupted airily.

She stood abruptly and went to the door. Peeking her head out, she called for someone, then calmly walked back and sat behind the desk with a sigh.

A brief silence followed, the only sound the cracking of the fireplace.

Minutes later, a woman entered in a plain black dress, her dark hair collected in a simple chignon. She looked different from the night before, yet Caldwell still recognized her. She wasn’t the woman he had been with last night; she was the one who interrupted them.

“It’s not you,” he breathed.

“Lord Caldwell,” the woman said with a grin. “I remember you.” Her gaze slid down to the falls of his breeches.

“You weren’t the woman I was with last night.”

“No.” She shrugged. “You were with another guest. But I was hired and paid for. Granted, the hell is now closed, but if you’d like to come to my quarters, we could have a private session.” The invitation was delivered with a purr that would have tempted many men.

Yet Caldwell felt nothing. No desire, no interest, not even curiosity.

“No, thank you,” he said firmly, stepping back. “Do you know the woman I was with?”

She shrugged, her lips folded in a pout. “No. But I can assure you, I can do things that woman couldn’t even dream of.”

“I am not doubting that,” he said, disappointment sinking in.

“Your loss,” she said with a flounce.

Caldwell nodded a brief thanks to Miss Monroe before making his exit. If he couldn’t have the physical relief of a tryst, there were other physical ways to get his mind off last night. Anything to exhaust his body enough that his mind would finally grant him peace.

Chapter 16

Dear Lydia,

I had hoped you might send a missive or call on me before leaving London for good. Since I’ve received no word, I find myself growing worried.

Please know that I am safe and at peace with my decision to stay. There’s no need to worry on my account—but do keep me updated on your journey.

Love,

Honor

Honoria spent the entire day on pins and needles, thinking about Caldwell, worrying about what she was about to say—but the damned earl had been gone since early morning. Each hour that passed wound her nerves tighter, her carefully practiced speeches becoming more jumbled with every tick of the clock. She started at every small noise, anticipating his return, only to be disappointed time and again.

She hadn’t told the children she was staying yet, either. She thought she needed to tell Caldwell about her feelings first—gauge his reaction. If he was favorable to her advances, they could decide together what to say to the children. The prospect of his rejection made her stomach clench every time she allowed herself to consider it.

When the clock struck five, she heard him arrive, ascend the stairs… and disappear into his bedchamber.