Sweet Love of Mine

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

"You're trying my patience, Blackwood," Sebastian growled at the other man who was subsequently blocking his exit from the carriage.

For his part, Jason remained stoically unimpressed by Sebastian's frequent and explosive bouts of temper. He stared at his carriage companion, unmoved. "You're to stay here, Rochester."

"He's right, your grace," Lyons said unwelcomingly from the seat beside Sebastian, unconcernedly examining a hangnail on the edge of his thumb.

"If Emily is in there-"

"Then I'll give the signal and you can whisk her away to your happily ever after," Jason said drolly.

"If I may, your grace-"

"You may not," Sebastian snapped irately at the private investigator, who blithely ignored him anyway.

"It would benefit all present if you were to leave the scuffling in the hands of my men and I," he said, unperturbed.

"I want Byrnes."

Jason grinned. "I thought it was his daughter you were courting. My mistake, Rochester. I shall change my preferences to cater you, shall I?"

"I fail to see the humour in the situation," Sebastian hissed.

"There is very little, dear boy," Blackwood agreed, "but you must see that your accompanying presence into the brothel would hinder our purpose here? After all, you would only serve to alert Byrne and his men should anybody recognise you. With all due respect, you are the duke of Rochester."

Sebastian mumbled something derogatory that the younger man failed to hear. However, his begrudging compliance signalled to Jason that he would indeed stay put, at least for a little while anyway. Sidling from the carriage and firmly shutting the door behind him, Jason tugged his coat around his shoulders against the chill that the wind brought along its currents.

It was early evening yet and the brothel he had inquired about was just seeing the first of its regulars. As he climbed up the steps to the entrance door, Jason could identify the pungent fumes of the opium pipes.

God, he certainly hoped the girl wasn't incapacitated with the potent drug.

Upon entrance, the mistress of the brothel immediately recognised him and disengaged herself from two gentlemen reclining on a gaudy yet plush settee. "My lord," she gushed, blinking prettily up at him. For a woman of advancing years, Madame Durant certainly knew how to maintain her looks. "I was so looking forward to making your acquaintance."

"Indeed, and I yours, Madame."

"How is it you came to know of my business?" she asked, a trifle uneasily.

"A friend," Blackwood supplied, glancing around the room with assessing eyes. Several gentlemen were acquainting themselves with lengths of pipe, lounging negligently against the softened interior of the den. Madame Durant was the only female present. "I trust you were able to accommodate my preferences?"

"Certainly," the busty woman said proudly. "You are a man of specific requirement, my lord, but not impossible. I have a few ladies who you might prefer..."

"May I see them, please?"

Madame Durant nodded and said, "Of course, my lord. If you will follow me, I have them waiting your presence in the green saloon."

The brothel was remarkably well-kempt and the girls, when Jason was led through several rooms of varyingly taste and expense, appeared healthy and eager. There were three that Madame Durant obviously considered applicable to his specific tastes, but he barely stifled a sigh when he realised that none of them were Emily.