“I shall offer you payment now, and even more if you are willing to stay and take me home.”
The hackney nodded, taking the coin she offered from her reticule.
She swung her gaze back to the club.
“No one will harm you in there, miss.”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Mr. Courtney runs a tight ship, does he. So you needn’t be afraid. Whatever help you need? He’ll give it.”
And then the driver looked away and started talking to his horse.
For a moment, she wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing.
But she hadn’t. For some reason, the driver’s words gave her the fortification she needed, and she marched up the steps and wrapped the door knocker against the polished wood.
It swung open almost immediately, and the man that greeted her was lavishly dressed in rich crimson silks stamped with gold. His eyes flared and he grinned down at her. “A dove has come to play with the peacocks! How marvelous.”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your feathers, my dear. You are clearly a dove.”
“And you the peacock?” She ventured, both intrigued and uncertain.
He winked and fluffed out the tails of his long coat. “Well spotted. Come in, come in. For you’ve surely come with purpose.”
“I have,” she rushed. “Mr. Courtney told me to come if I should need him. And I do. Will you take me to him?”
The man folded his arms, the lace at his cuffs dancing. “We shall set you to rights. I can see you’ve had quite the night. Come in, little dove. We shall take you to Tom.”
And with that, the towering fellow ushered her in.
Elizabeth’s eyes flared as a couple raced through the beautifully appointed hall half dressed. The gentleman was in shirt sleeves and breeches. The linen shirt was open at his throat and the lady… well, it looked as if she was only wearing a chemise dampened about her body.
Elizabeth had known such things existed, but suddenly being in such a set frolicking about shocked her to her toes.
She swallowed. Had she made the right decision? But what other recourse had she had aside from cowering and waiting for the worst?
But was this to be the future?
If she married, would she behave thus as apparently so many of the ton did?
No… for she did not wish to marry any of the men allowed to her. She knew that now deep in her core.
The danger was too great.
And only one thought had repeated in her head as an option for assistance.
Tom Courtney.
Though she found herself rather surprised by the warm glow of the place and the clear merriment of the people around her, Elizabeth suddenly knew that was what she wanted.
The feeling of freedom that exuded from the man who had let her in, and in the very air around her.
How did she find that?
Was Tom Courtney a purveyor of such things? Did he bear freedom wherever he went? He certainly seemed to be a different sort than the rigid men of power she knew.