Free His Wicked Heart by Darcy Burke Page B

just couldn’t let him bully her.”
    “You might try words first next time.” Sevrin
motioned toward the makeshift bar along the wall. “Go on, Giff,
have a drink.” The young man took himself off, the obstinate jut of
his chin suggesting he needed the libation.
    A woman pushed open a back door that Jasper
hadn’t noticed during his previous visits. Several others tried to
follow her inside, but Sevrin crossed the room and ushered them
out. “Damn prostitutes.”
    Other members began arriving, each hailing
Jasper with a strong handshake or a hearty greeting. Sevrin
returned to Jasper’s side. “Lightskirts from the neighborhood
loitering in the hope of income.”
    Was Olivia one of them? “Tell me, is there a
red-haired beauty among them?”
    Sevrin’s brows narrowed. “I don’t think so.
There’s a carrot-topped woman, quite buxom, but I wouldn’t term her
a beauty. Wait, do you mean Olivia West? She lives across the
street in Coventry Court with a group of women who do come
here.”
    Jasper turned toward him sharply. “What do
you know of her? Is she a prostitute?”
    “She doesn’t hang about with the others. Come
to think of it, I’ve never seen her hawking her wares.”
    Just because Sevrin hadn’t seen her didn’t
mean she was innocent. Of anything.
    Sevrin clapped him on the shoulder. “You
ready?”
    “More than.” Jasper shrugged out of his coat,
eager to banish all thought of Olivia. At least for tonight.
     
     
    THE following morning, Olivia tucked the last
of her belongings—her mother’s painted box containing Saxton’s ten
pounds—in her old valise. She’d also stuffed her sewing basket and
tattered bag, but she’d still have to leave a few things behind and
perhaps come back for them later.
    She’d spent the night tossing fitfully. The
heat in her tiny, airless room was more than enough to keep sleep
away, but coupled with tormenting thoughts of Lord Saxton’s kisses
and the way she’d deceived him, she’d been helpless to do anything
but stare at her ceiling. A ceiling she must now bid farewell. At
least she could afford a decent place to stay for the short
term.
    She lugged her items down the four flights of
stairs and set them in the corner of the entry hall. Brushing her
hands on her skirt, she turned and went to Mrs. Reddy’s door. She
rapped twice and waited patiently for the landlady to appear.
    The moment stretched, causing a bead of
concern to wedge between Olivia’s eyebrows as she stared at the
door. She raised her hand to knock again, but the portal cracked
open to reveal Mrs. Reddy’s battered face.
    “Livvie,” she croaked and opened the door
wider. “Come to check on me?”
    “Are you all right, Mrs. Reddy?” Olivia tried
not to wince as she looked at the damage to the woman’s eye and
throat. Memories of her mother’s countless beatings pounded the
recesses of her mind, but she refused to visit them.
    Mrs. Reddy waved her hand. “Bah, I’ve had
worse.”
    Olivia peered around the woman to see if she
too had packed her things, but there was no evidence of it. “Are
you ready to leave with Lord Saxton?” She kept the tremor from her
voice. She could not be here when he arrived. Heavens, what
if he was on his way even now? Oh, but surely earls didn’t rise at
this hour.
    “I don’t think I’m leaving. I’m comfortable
here.” She stuck her chin out in a thoroughly stubborn fashion.
    Olivia wasn’t surprised. “You must go. Unless
you’re content to die at Mr. Reddy’s hands.” She didn’t say that
lightly. Olivia firmly believed Mrs. Reddy could very well die from
one of his beatings. She’d seen it happen firsthand.
    “Doubt it. He likes havin’ me to smack
around.” She exhaled heavily and glanced behind her. A piece of
parchment sat atop her small dining table. “His lordship sent a
note a little while ago. Threatened to haul me off to debtors’
prison if I don’t work off what I owe.”
    Of course he did. Just as he’d