City of Glory by Beverly Swerling

Author:Beverly Swerling [Swerling, Beverly]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 0743269217
Amazon: B000NY12YG
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2007-01-09T08:00:00+00:00

Monday, August 22, 1814

Chapter Fourteen

New York City,

The Dancing Knave, Soon After Midnight

DELIGHT’S WHOLE BODY ached. Blakeman had used her hard, but she’d want it no other way. Tenderness was no part of what she felt for Gornt Blakeman, or any man, come to that. Not now, and not ever again.

She went downstairs, thinking since it was already Monday morning the crowd might have thinned, but the doors to most of the second-floor bedrooms were shut when she passed (indicating they were in use). There were as well still a goodly number of players in the Gaming Salon, and more coming from the look of it. Preservation Shay was in some kind of altercation at the front door.

Delight started for him, saw who it was who wanted entry, and paused by the Ladies’ Parlor. The two other chuckers-out were both there, amusing themselves playing games with the ladies. She summoned them to her. “Stay here where you can see me. Come if I call you.” Then she went to the door.

“It’s all right, Preservation. I will deal with this.” She turned to the man who was insisting on being admitted: “You are not yourself, Captain O’Toole. Come in if you like, but perhaps it’s better if you rest upstairs for a time. I’m sure I can find a lady to keep you company until you feel better. Which do you prefer, yellow curls or brown?”

“Neither.” O’Toole pushed past her, heading for the Gaming Salon. The two lads responded to Delight’s gesture and stepped into his path. “Got plenty o’ coin,” O’Toole said. “More’n enough.” His words were slurred and his gait unsteady, but his grip on the moneybag he was waving under their noses was firm enough.

“I’m sure you do,” Delight said. “But here at the Dancing Knave gentlemen who are feeling the effects of their tipple are asked to wait until they come to themselves before they chance their luck.” Drunks caused nothing but grief at the gaming tables, and Irish drunks were the worst of all. “Where do you choose to wait, Captain O’Toole? Upstairs in one of our comfortable rooms? Or somewhere off the premises?”

Preservation Shay took a step closer. She made a small motion that held him off for the moment, and waited for an answer from the Irishman. O’Toole said nothing, just turned and stumbled toward the front door. Very well, she’d given him a choice and he’d made it. Just as well, perhaps. “Please come back and see us soon, Captain. When you are more yourself.”

She watched O’Toole stagger into the street, then shut the door. There was a chuckle behind her; Delight turned and saw the pirate Tintin standing at the foot of the stairs, laughing. “Too drunk to know what he’s missing,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the upstairs rooms. “Two of your ladies are available for the price of one this evening, or so the bearded hag told me. I chose a red hair and a yellow. It

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