She had. Right after the masquerade when it became very clear she was very bad at husband hunting. “Making money is my plan now. And if I wish to teach little girls to explore their world and not be cowed by stupid people, then perhaps I shall open a school.”
“I think a school is a very nice idea.” Lilah leaned forward, a twinkle in her eye. “But I think a husband might be more fun.”
“Now there is where you are wrong,” Gwen said firmly. “A school will give me very many opportunities to teach young girls. A husband will be fun only for as long as he kisses like Lord Sayres. And even those kisses will get boring after a bit. I am sure of it.”
Chapter Eleven
When Jackson finallyfound his bed, he collapsed into it with the exhaustion of a man who had been awake for two days. He counted the time well spent. He and Lady Gwen had made significant strides on their business plan, and he had every hope that they could continue working at extraordinary speeds. And so he slept with a smile on his face and woke uncomfortable thanks to incredibly erotic dreams featuring his business partner.
It didn’t help that he remembered every second of their kiss, reliving it while he wondered what had happened for him to descend so quickly and so thoroughly into their embrace. Never before had a single kiss blocked out his environment to the point where he forgot that they were surrounded by several people. He was a man who valued discretion, and yet he had exposed Lady Gwen to the worst kind of gossip.
Fortunately, the witnesses were not predisposed to talk, thanks to a healthy bribe to Madame Juliette and a warning that, should gossip emanate from her place of business, he would make sure her other patrons knew they could not count on her discretion.
He had just finished his ablutions when a knock sounded on his door. When he answered, he was started to find his landlord there, his expression tight and his chin lifted in determination.
Damn. It never boded well when the normally passive Mr. Feit turned stubborn. “Good morning,” Jackson said by way of greeting.
Instead of answering, the man held out a handful of coins.
Jackson took the coins because it was that or let them drop on the floor. “What’s this for?”
“That’s the remainder of this month’s rent that I’m returning it to you. Me and Mrs. Feit run a quiet home for good gentlemen. I’m sorry to say that you can’t remain here.”
“Whyever not?”
“Lady Meunier told us wot you’ve been doing. We can’t have that here. Now don’t make a fuss. We’ll let you take your things, but we need you out by this evening.”
“This evening!” he gaped. Damnation, he did not have time for this. It was Isabelle, of course, putting more pressure on him to bend to her wishes. Well, if she thought losing his sparse rooms was enough to send him running back to her, she was sadly mistaken. He looked hard at his landlord. “What did she say?”
“Who?”
“Lady. Meunier. Whatever it was, she was lying.”
“Well as to that, she said you and… that you’ve been…” Mr. Feit’s face turned a mottled red and then he cleared his throat twice.
“You know it’s not true. I haven’t done any of it.”
Mr. Feit looked down at his feet. “Well, as to that, no, I didn’t rightly think you did.”
“Then why—”
“Because she pays the bills.”
Jackson’s chin shot up. “The hell she does. I paid you—”
“Not yer bills. Ours. Lady Meunier bought the house couple years ago and pays me and the misses to run it. She’s been right kind to us. This is the first time she’s interfered with us, but I can’t say no. She’d toss me and the missus out just like that. You know she would.”
He did. After all, that’s exactly what she was doing to him.
“I’m right sorry,” his landlord continued. “I’m giving you back the extra rent when I didn’t have to, but it’s the decent thing to do.”
Normally Jackson would have negotiated. The last thing he had time to do was move residences. But the Feits were kind people, and he knew what it was to be caught in Isabelle’s grip. So he nodded. “I’ll have my things gone by afternoon,” he said, “but it would make matters so much faster if I could have one of Mrs. Feit’s excellent meat pies while I pack.”
The relief on his landlord’s face told him more than anything else just how hard Isabelle had pushed the normally gentle man to get him to act. Which made the man’s next words all the more worthwhile.
“You tell yer next landlord to come talk to me. I’ll tell him you’re a good man who pays his shot right on time. You send him here and I’ll tell him that.”
Jackson smiled his gratitude. He hadn’t been afraid of finding new lodgings. He wasn’t that poor, but he appreciated the offer nonetheless. So he said one last thing before Mr. Feit bowed away.