A knock sounded on the door.
The interruption was welcome. “What is it now?” he barked rudely, just to see if his lack of proper manners would have any effect upon Mrs. Martin.
Her shoulders stiffened.
It was then he realized she was wearing a lace fichu tucked into her bodice for modesty.
“Mr. Sutton, she has returned,” Hugh announced on the other side of the door.
Jasper did not need to ask who she was.
He knew.
And so did every other part of his body.
Fire licked through him, along with anticipation. He had missed her. What the devil was the matter with him? When had he ever in his life missed a female who was not one of his sisters?
“I believe this shall be enough for the moment, Mrs. Martin,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “Thank you for agreeing to visit at this hour of the evening.”
It had been irregular and badly done of him to request her to visit when most respectable ladies were abed, and he knew it. Bu
t that had also been part of his motivation in making the request. The woman he married needed to understand his life was The Sinner’s Palace. He spent most of his time awake all night, tending to the hell and its patrons. Mornings were for rest. His wife would have to make certain Elizabeth and Anne were cared for and happy during the hours he was not available. As it was, since their unexpected arrival, he had assigned his nightly duties to his brother Rafe instead.
That would not continue, however. Jasper preferred to be a creature of the night.
Mrs. Martin rose from her chair. “Thank you for paying me the honor, Mr. Sutton.”
She did not fool him.
He gave her a curt bow just the same. “I expect you tomorrow at the same time so that we may continue our interview.”
“Of course, Mr. Sutton.”
He guided her to the door and opened it to find Hugh and Lady Octavia awaiting him. Satan’s teeth, she had not even had the presence of mind to wear a veil this evening. Her honey-brown gaze met his, sending a searing bolt of lust through him, before she jerked her stare away to the widow at his side.
“Hugh, see that Randall escorts Mrs. Martin to her residence,” he said, not bothering to introduce the two women to each other.
While he doubted a widowed banker’s daughter with depleted funds would be familiar with a lady, he still found himself oddly protective of Lady Octavia. Why, he did not care to examine.
Hugh guided Mrs. Martin down the interior halls of The Sinner’s Palace, leaving Jasper and Octavia alone in the low light of the sconces. He drank in the sight of her for a moment, admitting to himself just how much he had longed to see her again. Damn, but she was beautiful, her dark hair coiled in an elegant braid, a few curls teasing her temples. Which reminded him…
“Why are you not taking any care with your reputation?” he snapped.
“Because I do not care about my reputation,” she returned, chin tipping up to a stubborn angle.
The urge to kiss her was stronger than the instinctive need to take another breath at the moment. The violence of his body’s reaction to her was cause for alarm. She was a fever, infecting him. And yet, he had no wish to stop her.
“Come,” he ordered, nodding toward his open office door.
But in true Lady Octavia form, she refused to obey. Instead, she remained where she was. “Was I interrupting you with a paramour?”
“My future wife,” he said, just to see if the knowledge nettled her, although he had yet to decide whether or not he would leg shackle himself to Mrs. Martin.
Why he wanted to irritate her, he could not say. After all, what did he suppose, that Lady Octavia would wish to take on the role? Ha! Not a bleeding chance of that.
Nor would he want it.
Even if the thought of having her in his bed was enough to nearly bring him to his knees.