“I know,” she agreed, her gaze averted.
“And I won’t expect you to pay me back in sexual favors if that’s your concern. I promise.” Her eyes widened with a surprising amount of shock for a woman who earned her way in precisely that manner. “Of course, it wouldn’t be very practical if we’re to help you move about in Society. Perhaps it would make more sense for you to be my ward. As such, you would be residing at a respectable address, your wardrobe would not set you apart from any other lady of the ton, and most importantly, it would allow us the freedom to meet in private whenever we choose to discuss our plan. No one would question me visiting you, though you might need a chaperone.”
As soon as the culprit they sought was found and brought to justice, Miss Strong would be free to remove herself from his life once again. It would be as if she’d never existed, as if—
“I don’t like it.”
Of course she didn’t. Stubborn and cynical to the core, she had probably conjured all manner of ulterior motives and ways in which he meant to use her to his advantage.
“All right.” He folded his arms, placed both elbows on the table, and leaned toward her. Her irises flared and his muscles flexed in response. Something about his nearness disturbed her, though judging from her rosy cheeks, not on account of fear. “Do you have a better suggestion?”
There was a long drawn out pause, after which she finally shook her head. “No.”
Simon allowed himself an inward smile. Although he had his own apprehensions, he had to admit that having Miss Strong around for a while might prove interesting. “So it’s settled then?”
Her rigid posture turned less combative. She blew out the most capitulating breath he’d ever heard. “Yes.”
A strange surge of victory swirled inside him. “Good.” He indicated her tankard. “If you’re done, we can be on our way. The house isn’t far.”
Looking as though she wished she could stay at the tavern for the next decade, Miss Strong grudgingly stood. “Thank you for the food and drink,” she said once they were back in the street. Darkness had fallen while they’d been talking.
“It was my pleasure.” Simon nudged her away from the edge of the pavement so he could assume the precarious spot and linked his arm with hers. She was stiff, yet oddly alluring. “Since we’ll be working together, perhaps we should try to become better acquainted.”
Her eyes remained fixed on a spot straight ahead, giving no indication that she’d even heard him. He cleared his throat and tried not to feel affronted by her lack of interest in him she showed. “Perhaps we can start with something simple. Like our ages.” How in God’s name knowing when they’d each been born would help forge a bond he’d no idea, but it was the first question that came to mind. And besides, he actually was curious to know how old she was. “I was born on September thirteenth. I’ll be three and thirty in a few months.”
“I will be twenty in July,” she said, angling her head just enough to glance up at him. “On the fifteenth.”
A soft sparkle in her eyes and the hint of a smile teasing her lips nearly made him loose his footing. She truly was stunning. Especially when she let down her guard. Unable to make his mouth work, Simon merely stared at her until she broke eye contact and returned her attention to the distant horizon.
Simon nodded, even though she wasn’t looking at him and would not be able to see. “How did you end up at Amourette’s?”
There was a brief hesitation and then, “Philipa Harding, the woman who owns Amourette’s, is my mother’s sister.” Simon didn’t know what precisely to say to that. As if sensing his befuddlement, Miss Strong chuckled. “I see I have managed to shock you into silence.”
They reached a wider street and crossed to the opposite side. Still unsure of how to respond, Simon kept silent and was glad when Miss Strong continued with her account.
“My mother and aunt were orphaned when they were six and ten. Thankfully, a decent couple who couldn’t have children of their own took them in. But they had little more than love to give them, so Mama and Philipa were forced to leave and find work for themselves when they each turned sixteen. Both lacked the necessary education required for well-paid employment, so it was a struggle. Eventually Philipa gave up and turned to prostitution. By the time Mama had to find work for herself, Philipa had earned enough to ensure her younger sister would not have to head down the same path as she. She paid for Mama to take cooking lessons. When Papa sought a cook for his new home in London, she answered the advertisement, and that’s how they met.”
“That’s quite a romantic tale.”
“One that came to a very sad end the day Mama died,” Miss Strong reflected with a wistful murmur. They turned a corner. “Papa was away at war when consumption took her. When he returned and I told him what had happened, the light in his eyes faded and never fully returned.”
“He must have loved her deeply.”
“Yes. He did.” She gave Simon an assessing look – the sort that seemed to pierce his soul. “Papa was a good, kindhearted person. He was raised as a gentleman, so one would think Mama’s relationship to a whore would have put him off. But it didn’t.”
“Because his love for her was greater than his concern for respectability?”
Pity—for him, he realized with some indignation puckered her brow. “No. It was because a person’s character always mattered more to Papa than where they came from or what they did for a living.” She gave a soft snort and turned her attention away from him once more. “And as far as character goes, Philipa possesses one of the finest.”
Except she was still a whore as well as the owner of London’s most infamous brothel. Simon considered this for a moment and almost felt compelled to give his cravat a tug. As a man who’d always avoided the tiniest whisper of scandal, who’d sought respectability at every turn, deciding to seek adventure with a woman who sold herself to men for a living filled him with discomfort. Not that he was about to renege on his new arrangement with Miss Strong, but he supposed it would be odd if the situation didn’t alarm him to some degree. After all, he was completely new to risking his reputation. Going to Amourette’s was the most daring thing he’d ever done in that regard. It had been meant as a brief departure from Social stricture. Instead, it had launched him straight into danger and mayhem with a woman he barely knew and with whom he would have wanted nothing to do until he’d met her last night.
Hell, if someone had suggested he’d be risking his social standing right now in order to help a traitor’s daughter he’d found in a brothel, he would have laughed and then bet his fortune on them being wrong.
“What about you?”
Simon blinked. “What?”
“I’ve told you a great deal about myself and how I came to be where I am. So what about you?”
“Well, I was born into a wealthy upper-class household with little effort on my part.” He shrugged to dismiss a strange new feeling of inadequacy he’d never experienced before. “My father died while I was away in Spain, and I just lost my mother last year.”
“Oh.” Her free hand settled over his as they walked. “I’m so sorry.”