“I prefer my own lodgings, Madame LeFleur.”
He offered her a curt bow and then began to walk toward Pleasant. She was frozen in fear, not quite sure how she’d come here to pick up laundry and managed to have her virtue sold in the process, but she told herself he wouldn’t succeed.
She opened her mouth, prepared to let him know in no uncertain terms that he’d just wasted his money when he grabbed her arm more gently than she imagined he might have, and bent down to whisper in her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you, but if you don’t want Madame LeFleur to offer your services to anyone else tonight, I suggest you come with me.”
Pleasant knew she didn’t have long to decide her fate. Taking a risk and praying that he was sincere, she gave him a brief nod of acquiescence.
His face eased its tension somewhat as he steered her toward the front entrance of the establishment. He retrieved his outerwear and then they waited while his black lacquered carriage was pulled forward and the man standing sentry at the brothel opened the door that was lit with elegant lanterns. Lord Haverton waved his hand for Pleasant to precede him, and reluctantly she climbed inside.
She admired the maroon velvet, padded cushions, but when her companion entered and shut the door behind him, the sound caused her to jump, the finality of her precarious position like the clang of a prison door.
Pleasant barely felt the gentle jerk of the carriage as it set into motion. It was vastly different from a hackney, the few times she’d been fortunate enough to afford such accommodations. “Where are you taking me?” she dared herself to ask.
“Home, eventually,” he returned. She stiffened as he tossed his hat to the side, and once more she was struck by how much he favored her employer. But then, surely it must be a trick of the dim lighting. “I merely have a few questions first.”
She clasped her hands in her lap. She certainly owed him that much, considering he had saved her from a terrible consequence. “What is it you wish to know?”
He paused, as if weighing his words, and then he said, “You mentioned that you worked for a cordwainer by the name of Mr. Reed?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“I didn’t realize he had hired any new employees.”
While Pleasant was rather curious of this obvious interest from an upper crust gentleman in a common shopkeeper, she kept her thoughts to herself and replied, “There was a sign in the window yesterday advertising for an apprentice.”
“So he took you on?”
She could hear the disbelief in his voice and she drew herself up. “I realize it may be difficult to believe, since I am a mere woman, but I assure you I am qualified. My father was a cobbler in Ireland, and I assisted him many times.”
He held up his hands in supplication. “You misunderstand. I meant no disrespect, Miss…?”
He trailed off meaningfully, so she supplied her name. “Miss Pleasant Hill.”
His lips almost twitched into a smile. “Truly?”
She recalled Mr. Reed had shown a similar reaction. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I…” He started to explain, but then shook his head. “Never mind. Again, I beg your pardon if I seemed offensive. It’s just that I’m surprised Mr. Reed should have taken on any assistant. He’s usually rather…self-sufficient.”
“Ah, I see. You must be one of his customers,” she guessed.
This time he did grin. “Something like that.” He sat back and studied her from the shadows, his green eyes sparking with humor. “My name is Xavier Malcolm, the Earl of Haverton. Please convey my best wishes to your employer.”
The next morning, when Pleasant arrived at the shop, she politely greeted Mr. Reed, removed her outerwear, including the covering on her hair, and hung them up on a peg in the back room. As she tied an apron around her waist, she walked back to where he sat and said, “I met a mutual acquaintance last night. One of your customers, I believe, a man of rather significant influence. He asked me to convey his best wishes to you.”
He lifted a brow and crossed his arms. “Oh? And who might that be?”
“Xavier Malcolm, the Earl of Haverton.”
The moment she mentioned his name, her companion stiffened visibly. “Indeed. And how did you make the earl’s acquaintance?”
Pleasant hesitated, not sure how to explain. “I was in a difficult situation, and Lord Haverton helped ease it over.”
She hoped that might have been the end of it, but as she turned to go to the back room, he stopped her. “It sounds like an intriguing story.”
She winced. She didn’t wish to offer any more information, but considering the firm look on his face, Pleasant knew he wasn’t going to be placated that easily. So she cleared her throat and tried to make light of the situation. “Well, you see, I was at Madame LeFleur’s establishment—”
His eyes instantly widened. “You went to a brothel?” he thundered.
Pleasant didn’t much care for his tone, as if she were a child who needed proper direction. “I went to pick up the wash,” she pointed out.
“I see.” He seemed to digest this. “So how did the gallant Lord Haverton intercede on your behalf?”
She rather hoped she wouldn’t have had to reveal this part, but since she’d opened the door… “The Madame wasn’t pleased that I was late picking up the laundry, so she had hired someone else. She…uh…decided that I owed her for her trouble.” Her cheeks warmed considerably. “She meant to…offer my services in another fashion. Lord Haverton paid her price and took me home.”
He didn’t look pleased. At. All. “How much?”
She swallowed, wondering why that should matter. “Twenty guineas.”
He uttered a foul curse and shoved a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t want you going back there ever again,” he demanded.
Pleasant drew herself up. “Since she’s no longer a customer, I don’t plan to.”
He drummed his fingers on his leg. “Who else do you work for?”
She hesitated. “It shouldn’t be your concern as long as it doesn’t interfere with my work here.”
