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“Y er sure this is a good idea?”

As Alice examined her reflection in the mirror in the room, she shared with Addien, Alice wasn’t really sure of anything anymore.

It had been five days since she’d been reunited with Laurence.

And every one of those five days, he’d come around.

No, not really come around. He lived here.

She found a strange kind of peace in sharing a residence with him—even if it was a debauched gaming hell.

“The gents who come here don’t come to take tea with a lady,” Addien pointed out from just beyond her shoulder.

With that, a vicious twinge pulled, a biting, sharp, jagged-tooth-like jealousy got a hold, squeezed, and held tight.

No, her friend was right. That was one very important detail Alice couldn’t ignore but had forced herself to.

The only reason men came to this place, as the maid pointed out, was for sinning.

Laurence had never been a wagering man. But he had kept mistresses.

Oh, discreetly. But she’d been pathetic enough to have kept her ears open for any hint of information exchanged between he and Winchester when they thought they were in private.

No doubt he’d come for the same reason all the other gentlemen came here.

To take part in carnal sinning. But a gentleman such as Laurence, the Earl of Denbigh, would never dare pursue such wickedness as long as his best friend’s sister was near.

Nor could he simply walk away. No, his conscience wouldn’t allow that. And so, he kept company with her.

“Alice?”

“We don’t take tea,” Alice said out of absolute necessity. “You make it sound like I get into my day’s finest and we sit at a tea table across from one another.”

“No,” Addien drawled. “Having a light repast on the floor in his rooms, while he keeps you company as you work, is entirely different. Definitely less intimate,” Addien said with such dryness, heat slapped Alice’s cheeks.

“You make it sound as though it is something forbidden,” she muttered.

Her friend’s pixie-like features grew deadly serious. It was her usual state for everyone, with the exception of Alice.

“It’s because it is more dangerous,” Addien said, emphasizing that mention of peril. “You’ve got the look of a lady in—”

“Don’t say it,” she exploded.

Breathlessly, her heart pounded because the moment her friend spoke that word, there’d be no escaping it.

Addien’s expression became shuttered. “Oi was going to say lots of trouble .”

No, she hadn’t. Alice knew as much and so did Addien. One thing sisters in this place never did was to mention one another’s weaknesses. Female survivors stuck together.

“I just want you to be careful, Alice,” Addien said. “Men don’t bring ye nothing but heartache.”

Alice had seen the way the other woman looked at the guard Roy. She knew Addien wasn’t as unaffected when it came to matters of the heart, though she likely believed herself indifferent.

Her friend narrowed her eyes. “Oi’d mind yer tongue, if I were you.”

Alice widened her eyes and feigned innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to. Roy’s different,” Addien stated as absolute fact. “And either way, he doesn’t know Oi exist. Yer fine earl, on the other hand, very much knows it, and I don’t trust it worth a damn. Oi see the way he looks at you. It ain’t good.”

Her heart jumped. The way he looked at her?

Alice didn’t ask it.

But she wanted to.

Alice looked at the clock hanging on the wall. She was late. He’d be there.

Of course, he’ll be there, you ninny. They were his rooms, but he knew she was coming.

At first, it was an invitation and a request, and then it was an understanding. This meeting, however, would be different.

Addien never let herself reveal any emotion. This time, however, her features were arranged into a mask of nothing but worry. “Are you sure you want to do this, Alice?”

They’d already worked out that Addien would escort Laurel to Laurence’s suite so the two could be properly introduced.

“I want to do this,” Alice promised.

“Oh, Oi’m sure you want to do this, but do you think it’s a good idea?”

The unflappable maid’s uncharacteristic discomfort stirred Alice’s own unease.

No. She wasn’t sure of much anymore. Introducing Laurel as her daughter to Laurence would bring their relationship to a place, she knew wasn’t safe.

He’d not prodded her or asked to see Laurel, but neither had he been secret in his interest about Laurel.

He asked questions about what Alice’s daughter loved and liked.

He wondered about her pastimes and hobbies.

He quizzed her about the little girl’s favorite toys.

At first, she’d been close-lipped, but as time progressed, it had been natural to share. No, it was more than that. It’d felt so bloody good to share her daughter with someone whom she loved. In doing so, she and Laurel weren’t alone. They were part of a wee family, if even just for a bit.

“Then I’ll be along shortly,” Addien said with a slight hesitancy that conveyed her reservations.

And with the warning ringing in her friend’s tones, Alice headed to see Laurence. And as she did, she felt more alive than she ever had before.