Page 28

“Do come in,” he urged, his manner relaxed as he moved toward a wide, open room.

The dark furniture contrasted with the emerald-green walls. Instead of feeling penned in—as Eleanor often did in new, unfamiliar spaces—she felt… at ease.

The escort gestured to a two-seater couch. “Please, sit. Now, I understand you are Lord and Lady… Oakwood?”

Eleanor bit back a laugh, glancing at Spencer in surprise, for he had retained that part of their first meeting. His gaze flicked to her for a moment before returning to the escort, who eyed the two of them with interest.

“Yes,” he answered. “That is us.”

“Now…” Julian laughed. “I am no stranger to fake names when it comes to my services. However, I don’t believe you are here for such things. Heavens knows that?—”

“Whatever do you mean by that?” Spencer asked sharply.

Julian’s smile turned positively wicked, as if he had just been given a new game to play. He moved back, looking between the two of them. “You really must ask such a thing?”

“I do not waste my time asking questions I do not think need to be answered.”

Julian arched an eyebrow at Eleanor. “Is he always this… well-tempered?”

Eleanor placed her hand on her husband’s arm in a show of devotion, long used to how they acted around others even if they both knew there was no need for such pretense. Not since he’d said…

Breathe… Let me take care of you.

Before the flush could creep across her face—for she imagined the escort was keenly attuned to such things and would notice—she pushed away the memory of what her husband’s wicked fingers could do.

But of course, she was caught.

“He is,” she agreed with a laugh.

“Hmm, yes. I have known enough men like him, both in the bedroom and out of it. Their mood swings make for excellent tumbles at times. Although there was always one man whom I never quite got to have in my sheets. A pity he is spoken for, and uninterested.”

“Answer my question,” Spencer snapped, his eyes flashing with ire at the flirtation. “Why do you think we need your services?”

Julian waved his question away as he moved toward the bar in the drawing room, but after a moment, he answered to rile him up further.

“I simply thought you needed a third person to… kick start whatever is going on between the two of you. That perhaps you needed a guide to bridge those gaps.”

“There are no gaps,” Spencer answered quickly, pointedly not looking at Eleanor.

“And is your wife of the same mind?”

Eleanor didn’t quite know how to answer that, so she settled for silence.

Their mood swings make for excellent tumbles at times…

Heavens. She tried not to imagine Spencer giving in to his anger, letting it come out as pleasure instead, asking if she could handle such things.

And she thought she could.

“You think I do not know you,” Julian continued, looking over at Spencer. He finished pouring the drinks and handed them each a glass of red wine that smelled rich and heady. “You may keep your anonymity, of course, but I know who you are.”

“If you do know, then you surely know the gravity of your earlier suggestion?”

Julian’s grin widened. “What? That I might be graced with a beautiful couple in my bed? Do not blame a man for seeking custom where custom could be had.” He shrugged before reaching for his own glass and moving to the deep armchair adjacent to the couch.

“You have come to my place of business; do not castigate me for suggesting it in order to keep up your own pretense.”

Spencer clenched his jaw in annoyance, for being caught at his own game. “Very well.”

Julian watched them for a moment, his eyes lingering on the line of Spencer’s neck, the curve of Eleanor’s shoulder.

Eleanor flushed beneath the attention. Spencer watched the escort just as keenly, only without the hunger. Whether Julian Gray was interested or simply knew how to play his part, Eleanor did not know.

“If you need advice,” he spoke up, “then I also provide such a service. I have sat with couples, watched them, and coached men on how to pleasure their wives?—”

“I do not need coaching on how to pleasure my wife,” Spencer growled.

Eleanor blushed furiously at the bluntness of his claim. For a moment, their eyes met, and she fought a smile.

Spencer appeared as though he did not know what to do with himself. He hated being riled up and having his time wasted.

Although Eleanor knew they needed to get to business, she could not deny how Julian’s manner was a welcome change.

“Are you certain? The frequency, then, of how often you pleasure?—”

“We are not here for your services,” Spencer eventually snapped. “I respect your business, but that is not why I am here.”

“It is a shame,” Julian all but purred. “Your wife is gorgeous. Having her consent to discover what her pretty gown hides would be a pleasure.”

His eyes cut to her, and he cocked his head. He was not like an oil spill with his compliments. He did not make her feel unclean as others had.

If anything, Eleanor felt rather flattered.

“Are you a goddess beneath the layers as well, Lady Oakwood?”

It took her a moment to respond to the false title, for her voice was lost in her embarrassment.

“Take your eyes off her,” Spencer warned. “I am not a patient man.”

“Oh, do not feel so left out,” Julian drawled.

“I wish to discover what lies beneath your layers, too.” His eyes sparkled with mirth.

“I jest, of course. Most men are rather offended by my advances, but it seems you are only offended by the thought of another man finding your wife beautiful and desirable. Do you show her your affection enough?”

I am not pretending any longer… you make me wish to be bolder…

Spencer fell quiet, and Eleanor decided to speak up. “He does.”

At that, both men looked at her in surprise, and her face reddened further beneath the attention.

“He does?” Julian asked.

Eleanor’s eyes hesitantly found Spencer’s. “He is most attentive.”

Her husband swallowed hard as he gazed at her. He reached for her but then stopped quickly as if remembering they were not alone. He turned back to the escort, returning to the matter at hand.

“Now that you have your answer, we can move on to the main issue. I was told that you are the man to go to for information.”

Julian sank into his armchair, his lazy smile intact. “I am an encyclopedia. Simply pick my brain, or my body, for knowled?—”

“I need information on the vulnerable women being shipped out of England through a nearby convent.” Julian’s smile vanished. “On the order of Lord William Coleman, the Marquess of Belgrave.”

A thick silence fell over the room as the escort’s face darkened. He stared at Spencer, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Gone was his jovial expression, the teasing lilt of his grin. All that remained was concern.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke up.

“I know Belgrave. I have… I have had clients who have spoken about him in the quietest of moments, when I refused to touch them after they told me how they came to me.” His eyes turned distant for a moment, his throat working around a swallow.

“I do not take people who are not here willingly to my bed.”

It was a warning, a reminder, a hint that his earlier teasing may have been genuine but would only hinge on real interest.

“These women,” Spencer began. “They came to you for… for what?”

“Lessons,” Julian clarified. “They were sent here. It was not contracted work. Lord Oa?—”

“We may drop the pretense,” Spencer allowed.

Julian didn’t miss a beat. “Your Grace, I know London’s underworld better than most because I have serviced it. That is also why I know the inner workings of other countries’ underworlds. Men who are as powerful as Lord Belgrave do not need false names because nothing can ever touch them.

“He sends women to me to teach them how to perform in the bedroom, thinking he may get more money for them. I have tried to usurp the operation, and I send them away without any lessons, of course. I tell them that in order to survive, they must pretend as much as they can. London’s underworld is far more sinister than you may realize.

It is dangerous , and if you are venturing into it, then I beg you to tread carefully. ”

“How many women did he send to you?”

Julian’s jaw was tight as he answered, “Enough to know that they likely only had a short reprieve before they were thrust into terrible new lives.”

“I wonder,” Eleanor spoke up, her voice shaky, “if they were sent here under the pretense of becoming ruined.” The thought was too sinister, and it made her shudder. “That way, Lord Belgrave’s accusations could have more substance. Of course, he would not check if you had… done anything.”

“It is a possibility.” Julian grimaced. “Lord Belgrave is a powerful, untouchable man who has too many connections. He and an associate?—”

“Lord Follet,” Spencer offered.

Julian nodded. “The two of them have their hands in just about every business and industry. I have long tried to get the girls to safety. I’m afraid the operation is larger than me and my contacts, but I have offered all of them a way out.

So many declined out of fear. Others did not take my warnings seriously, choosing to believe the lies Lord Belgrave would have told them. ”

Spencer let out a vicious curse. “You have helped some, though?”

“A mere drop in the ocean, in the grand scheme of things. But yes. I had them use my contacts, offered employment in far-off estates where they might find support from the families I asked to help them.”

“Do you think any of them would be willing to speak to us?” Spencer asked.

But the look on Julian’s face said enough, and he nodded.

Doing so could endanger those women, especially if they had already escaped Lord Belgrave’s clutches. What did he think of the occasional girl who had disappeared?

“Have you ever been threatened by Belgrave?” Eleanor asked. “If he ever connected the dots, I mean.”

“Oh yes.” Julian barked a laugh. “But a quick flirtatious comment and a mention of my very good friend, the Duke of Blackstone, is enough to chase him out of the door. I am protected enough here, Your Grace.”

Eleanor nodded, but her heart still raced.

At least one good man still looked out for the ladies’ well-being, and even though he could not save every one of them, he was aware of the situation and kept them as safe as he could when they came through his door.

“Your Grace,” Julian said after a moment, “a word of warning. I will tell you the same thing I told the last duke who threw around his power and authority, thinking he could investigate any dark corner of London without incurring the consequences.” He shot Spencer a withering look.

“Do be careful. For the ones who get hurt are often the ones who are not investigating, such as yourself.”

His eyes flicked to Eleanor, and she stiffened.

“I have already survived Lord Belgrave’s schemes. I believe I am safe,” she answered hurriedly.

“And she will continue to be safe under my care,” Spencer added sharply, drawing the escort’s attention. “I will stop at nothing to keep my wife safe.”

“Indeed, you intend to. But sometimes the dangerous players are already a step ahead.” Julian gave him one last warning look before turning back to Eleanor. “I won’t pry. But do stay safe, Your Grace. Know your limits. And stay with those you trust most.”

Eleanor nodded once. “I will. Thank you, Mr. Gray.”

“You are most welcome,” he answered. “Now, I do not wish to be rude, but if you do not want to enjoy my services, then I must ask you to leave.”

He stood up, giving them both a small smile as he nodded toward the door to the drawing room.

Spencer rose from his seat, clearly eager to leave the escort and his beguiling ways, and Eleanor did not mind following suit.

She smiled shyly at Julian’s smirk.

“Oh, and Your Graces?” Julian said right as they reached the main door. “A word of advice. Bed one another already; it is painful to see you yearn for one another.”

He fixed Spencer with a long, knowing look, but the man quickly strode out of the door, and Eleanor barely held back a nervous laugh as she followed.

The door closed behind them, and the night air did little to chase away the lingering blush on her cheeks.