The Rogue's Redemption by Ruth Axtell Morren

Author:Ruth Axtell Morren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2008-09-09T04:00:00+00:00

In an effort to put Miss Leighton completely out of his thoughts, Gerrit went in search of alternative female companionship. That had always worked in the past.

A few days after his return from Thistleworth, he left a tavern after a game of dice with his lieutenant, Edgar, and headed to Haymarket. The two men sauntered down the street eyeing the women who lounged against the buildings or loitered on the street corners. It wasn’t long before Gerrit saw what he wanted. As he paused beside the pretty blonde, she let her shawl fall off her shoulders and sported her charlies for him. She was all he favored in a woman, lush and curvaceous.

She eyed him up and down. “Care for some company, captain?”

Although her cheeks and lips were rouged, her features were still young and fresh. “You’re a bonny lass. Have a friend for my companion?” He indicated Edgar with a gesture.

“Always willing to oblige.” She waved down the street, “Tess!” In a moment, another girl joined them. She was similarly clad in a diaphanous gown, which left little to the imagination. She sidled up to Edgar. “You’re an ’andsome pair o’ gents in your regimentals.”

“You’re a fine-looking piece yourself,” Edgar told her, patting her generous hips.

“Where’re you off to this fine evening?” the first girl asked Gerrit.

He reached for a ringlet of her blond hair and twirled it around his forefinger. “I had no particular destination in mind. Any suggestions?”

She leaned closer to him. “I’m not particular. If you’ve no place to go, there’s always St. James’s down the road.”

He chuckled. “I fancy a soft bed myself rather than a park bench. Care to come along to my rooms?”

“I’d enjoy nothing more.”

Seeing that Edgar was already walking off with the other woman, Gerrit hailed a hansom and gave the jarvey his address. Inside the coach he immediately proceeded to kiss the wench, seeing no reason to delay gratification. It had been too long.

“You don’t sound like a London girl,” he said as he caressed her.

“I come from Lancashire—oh,” she giggled against his mouth. “I like that.” She moved to accommodate him more.

“Been here long?” he murmured.

“Only three months…”

He’d been right in his cursory assessment. Fresh from the country. Less chance of disease. He’d protect himself in any case. One experience with the clap in his younger days had been enough to last him a lifetime.

After they arrived at his lodgings, Gerrit lit a lamp in his sitting room while the girl divested herself of her shawl. Crocker was nowhere to be seen. All the better. His batman was probably engaged in similar activities of his own.

The girl wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Patience, my girl, until I finish with this lamp.”

She only laughed and slipped her fingers into his hair.

He replaced the glass on the lamp and turned to her. “You are a naughty girl.”

“It’s not always I get to lay ’ands on such an ’andsome gent.” She smoothed her hands down the sides of his coat sleeves.

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