“The pleasure rooms are the most appropriate choice if I am to command your services for the evening.”
Her lovely mouth fell open, but when he added in explanation, “It will give the appearance of your being my chosen inamorata,” she stifled her protest.
Before she could change her mind, Quinn swept out his hand, indicating for her to precede him. After another long study, she turned toward the stairs, the delicate line of her jaw set in a stubborn grimace.
Hiding a wry smile, he followed Miss Stratham. Anticipation lightened his previously sour mood and eased the physical pain of kissing the irresistible but resistant beauty, leaving him with a sense of unfulfilled promise.
His frustrating evening thus far was becoming more intriguing by the moment.
As Miss Stratham made her away through the crowd, Quinn watched her gently swaying hips with rapt male appreciation. For allure, her form and features rivaled any of the Cyprians present, yet her demeanor was wary.
She stole brief glances at him when they climbed the stairs together. Her expression held determination, as if she was girding herself for a confrontation, yet she also seemed nervous, a suspicion borne out when she faltered upon reaching the first landing. “Where are you taking me?”
“To one of the unoccupied chambers.”
“Must we use a bedchamber?” Her tone hinted at concern.
“It is our only alternative if you wish to converse in private.”
He took her elbow to guide her up the next flight of stairs, but she immediately pulled away as if burned by the contact. Quinn could sympathize. He still felt the effects of their impromptu embrace in his aching loins.
“You are safe from me, Miss Stratham,” he observed wryly. “I don’t intend to ravish you.”
Her wonderful mouth curved with fleeting amusement. “Given your conduct a moment ago, you will forgive my doubts.” She drew a steadying breath. “Very well. I suppose a bedchamber will have to do. Hopefully this will not take long.”
She clearly was trying to reassure herself. They climbed to the next floor, and when Quinn began moving down a dimly lit corridor, she accompanied him reluctantly. Her reticence gratified him. He did not like to think her familiar with the sinful sport to be found in the pleasure rooms. But it also added to the puzzle of why she had come here—one of many questions he wanted answered about her.
“Do you mean to tell me what brought you here?”
“I could ask the same of you, but I already know the answer.” She responded sweetly, but her tone held disapproval. “Gaming and wenching.”
“The two do not necessarily go hand in hand. And my presence here is not the issue. What the devil are you doing in a bordello?”
He could almost see her spine stiffening. “I wished to speak with you about my sister.”
So that was her motivation. He should have suspected. “Then you are not here to sell your wares?”
She gave him a startled look through her mask. “No. Whatever gave you that notion?”
His gaze drifted lower to her bodice, lingering on her ripe breasts. “Your attire might have provided a clue.”
At his calculated perusal, she gave him a quelling look. “I might have caused a scandal, my lord, but I have not fallen that low.”
Quinn was vastly relieved that she was not there to bargain her body. “As scandals go, yours was relatively minor.”
“I can see how you might think so. You are known for colossal scandals, as is most of your family.”
It was true. The Wildes were renowned for their flagrant love affairs, going back many generations. And his own liaisons had provided ample fodder for the gossipmongers over the years, particularly the most recent one with his former mistress.
“I wondered if you might be in financial straits,” he prodded. After she di
ssolved her betrothal, Miss Stratham’s parents had disowned her and cut her off without a penny.
“I am not so desperate. I earn a generous income as companion to my widowed friend, Mrs. Cleo Newcomb.”
“So I heard.”
Wealthy, genteel widow Mrs. Newcomb was a former schoolmate of Miss Stratham’s who had offered her a home and employment after the contretemps erupted. They had fled to the Continent so that Venetia could at a distance attempt to recover from her disgrace.