Free In the Barrister's Chambers by Tina Gabrielle

the tavern door, and she could make out the roar of voices within. Just as Jack reached for the handle, the door swung open and a sailor stumbled outside. Ruddy-cheeked and glassy-eyed, he barely glanced at them before making his way to the street and spewing up his latest meal.
    Giving her no chance to stare, Jack dragged her inside the tavern.
    A thick haze of smoke enveloped them. Her eyes stung, and she blinked several times until the scene before her cleared.
    The tavern was crowded just as Jack had warned. It was a large room, with a long bar spanning the back wall and tables and chairs haphazardly scattered about. Groups of men were seated, their hands cradling tankards of ale or cups of gin while others held decks of cards. The crowd was coarse—made up of dockworkers, sailors, porters, and fishermen.
    Candles sputtered from wall sconces and coals glowed in a corner brazier. A few women were present—barmaids scurrying about; other females with scandalously low bodices lingered at the tables, hanging over the shoulders of men who played cards.
    The door closed behind Evelyn. The man behind the bar looked up and stopped pouring a bottle of gin. Other heads rose, and the occupants stared at the newest patrons with narrow-eyed interest.
    Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest, and uncertainty flooded through her. She had tried to anticipate what she might encounter, yet no newspaper article she had read, nor even literature featuring the lower classes, had amply prepared her for this true life experience. Her senses were overwhelmed by the thick smoke wafting across her skin and the fetid air full of unwashed, perspiring bodies. The din of the crowd boiled down to a dull ringing in her ears, and her feet felt as heavy as if her borrowed shoes were filled with lead.
    She was vaguely conscious of shuffling backward, making for the door, when Jack’s hand tightened on her wrist. He pulled her firmly to his side, his breath hot in her ear.
    â€œDon’t, Evie. It’s too late to run, and I’m with you.”
    The hard length of him pressed against her, reassuring her, and she nodded numbly.
    Jack elbowed their way past the crush of bodies to an empty table in the rear of the room. Several broad-shouldered dockworkers eyed them, and Evelyn feared they were the type who enjoyed bar brawls. But Jack exuded a cocky confidence as if he belonged in such an environment, and the men remained in their seats. The man behind the bar went back to pouring cups of gin.
    They were almost at the table, when a hand snaked out for Evelyn. Jack pulled her out of reach and glared at a young sailor with crooked, brown teeth who was far into his cups.
    â€œWillin’ to share?” the man asked, slurring his words.
    Jack’s face was fierce. “She’s mine fer the night. Bought and paid fer. Find another.”
    The drunkard shrugged and turned his attention back to his gin.
    Shock ran through Evelyn at Jack’s comment, and she bit her lip. She recalled the promise Jack had her make, that if she were approached she would claim to be Jack’s woman. She had assumed he meant his wife, but looking at her surroundings she realized that was never his intent—for no decent man would bring his spouse here.
    They sat, and a buxom barmaid sidled over to Jack. The woman gave Jack a sly look, her greedy eyes raking his chiseled profile and broad shoulders. The shadow of his beard only added to his rugged, masculine appeal.
    Jack did nothing to discourage the woman; rather he gave her a lazy wink and sent her off with a smile.
    A streak of annoyance passed through Evelyn at how easily Jack could charm the female sex. Barmaids, librarians, courthouse clerks, and even high-born ladies—Jack seemed to know how to make them all respond with very little effort.
    The barmaid returned with two tankards. Bending over more than necessary to place the ale before Jack, she displayed a huge amount of bosom for his