"Price?" Aurora questioned, lowering her tankard and wishing the room would stop spinning. "You'd be doing the teaching—why would I ask for a fee?" She shook her head to clear it. "Besides, I can't learn tonight. Tonight I need to…"
"Sure ye can!" a stocky man at the next table chimed in, striding over to her. "Yer a woman after me own 'eart, cravin' excitement, not shillings."
"What the hell would she want money for?" Jackson mocked. "She's got plenty. She paid for our drinks, didn't she? And 'er gown cost more than this whole bloody pub." He rose as well. "No, ye 'eard 'er, it's experience she's lookin' for." He glared at the others, his fingers closing about Aurora's arm. "And it's me she came to. C'mon, sweetheart. Let's go up."
Realization crashed down on Aurora with the force of a blow. These men thought she'd been alluding to her sexual proficiency, not her adeptness at whist. They were actually arguing over who was going to take her to bed.
Dear Lord, what had she gotten herself into?
"Please … wait," she began, determined to clarify her intentions before Jackson escorted her up to a liaison that was never going to occur. Yes, she wanted to go upstairs, but not for the purpose he had in mind.
"Mr. Jackson…" She struggled to speak coherently despite the fog shrouding her thoughts. "You don't understand."
"Oh, I understand, all right." He continued to drag her along. "And I'll make ye forget all about that clumsy man who had ye first."
"Let her go, Jackson."
The deep baritone permeated Aurora's disoriented state, simultaneously stopping Jackson dead in his tracks. An instant later a strong arm anchored her waist, dragging her away from Jackson and supporting her unsteady weight.
"C'mon, Merlin, don't ye 'ave enough women?" Jackson whined. "Leave this morsel for me."
"This 'morsel' isn't ready for the teaching you have in mind," the baritone shot back.
"She's sure as hell not ready for you."
"No, she's not. But at least I have the good sense to know it." He shifted, hauling Aurora against his side and heading away from the table.
"Merlin?" Aurora twisted about to assess her rescuer and ask about his unusual name. She was confronted by a broad chest and towering height, which she followed upward to hard masculine features set off by probing eyes the color of topaz, blazing through her like twin bolts of lightning.
Her own twisting motion spawned a surge of dizziness—one that made her stomach lurch with alarming intensity. "I don't feel very well."
"I'm sure you don't." Abandoning all attempts at subtlety, the man named Merlin swung her off her feet and into his arms. "Three rounds of ale—drunk in rapid succession—would make me a bit light-headed, and I suspect I'm a far more seasoned drinker than you are." His forward motion ceased, and Aurora squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stop the ceiling from shifting.
"George, which room's empty?" Merlin's voice rumbled against her ear.
"Take number four—second down on your left," the tavern keeper responded.
"Thanks. Send up coffee. A lot of it."
He was moving again, ascending a staircase, Aurora's unsettled stomach informed her.
Good-natured teasing followed in their wake. "'ey, Merlin, let us know 'ow she is!"
"Yeah, and if she's as quick a study as she claims, we'll all 'elp teach 'er!"
The man carrying her swore quietly under his breath, shoving open a door and striding inside.
Aurora winced as the door slammed shut behind them. "Too loud," she muttered.
"Get used to it. Everything is going to sound loud until that coffee does its job. Do you need a chamber pot?"
"No. I'm never sick."
"Really? And how often are you foxed?" With that he deposited her on the bed.
"Never. I…" Startled, Aurora looked about, her retort dying on her lips as the significance of what she'd inadvertently accomplished registered in her cloudy mind. A room. Complete with a bed. And a man—one who seemed rational enough to listen rather than to immediately ravage her.
Instantly her stomach calmed.