whist. Now that was something she could chat about, thus breaking the ice enough for her to ease into her request.
Purposefully she gulped her ale, her stare fixed on Jackson 's cards. "I have a bit of experience at this, you know," she announced. "Although, if I must be honest, I've only received instruction from one man, and only upon one occasion. However, I enjoyed it immensely and was a quick study. Given time, I'm sure I could be quite proficient."
Jackson 's cards struck the table. "Brazen little thing, aren't ye?" he said, an odd light coming into his eyes. "Well, I've got lots of time. I can teach ye anything ye want to know."
"If ye don't fall asleep first," his whist partner retorted, slapping down his own cards. "If Rory wants instruction, I'm the one to give it. If 'er price ain't too high."
"Price?" Aurora questioned, lowering her tankard and wishing the room would stop spinning. " You'd be doing the teaching—why would I ask for a fee?" She shook her head to clear it. "Besides, I can't learn tonight. Tonight I need to…"
"Sure ye can!" a stocky man at the next table chimed in, striding over to her. "Yer a woman after me own 'eart, cravin' excitement, not shillings."
"What the hell would she want money for?" Jackson mocked. "She's got plenty. She paid for our drinks, didn't she? And 'er gown cost more than this whole bloody pub." He rose as well. "No, ye 'eard 'er, it's experience she's lookin' for." He glared at the others, his fingers closing about Aurora 's arm. "And it's me she came to. C'mon, sweetheart. Let's go up."
Realization crashed down on Aurora with the force of a blow. These men thought she'd been alluding to her sexual proficiency, not her adeptness at whist. They were actually arguing over who was going to take her to bed.
Dear Lord, what had she gotten herself into?
"Please … wait," she began, determined to clarify her intentions before Jackson escorted her up to a liaison that was never going to occur. Yes, she wanted to go upstairs, but not for the purpose he had in mind.
"Mr. Jackson…" She struggled to speak coherently despite the fog shrouding her thoughts. "You don't understand."
"Oh, I understand, all right." He continued to drag her along. "And I'll make ye forget all about that clumsy man who had ye first."
"Let her go, Jackson ."
The deep baritone permeated Aurora 's disoriented state, simultaneously stopping Jackson dead in his tracks. An instant later a strong arm anchored her waist, dragging her away from Jackson and supporting her unsteady weight.
"C'mon, Merlin, don't ye 'ave enough women?" Jackson whined. "Leave this morsel for me."
"This 'morsel' isn't ready for the teaching you have in mind," the baritone shot back.
"She's sure as hell not ready for you."
"No, she's not. But at least I have the good sense to know it." He shifted, hauling Aurora against his side and heading away from the table.
"Merlin?" Aurora twisted about to assess her rescuer and ask about his unusual name. She was confronted by a broad chest and towering height, which she followed upward to hard masculine features set off by probing eyes the color of topaz, blazing through her like twin bolts of lightning.
Her own twisting motion spawned a surge of dizziness—one that made her stomach lurch with alarming intensity. "I don't feel very well."
"I'm sure you don't." Abandoning all attempts at subtlety, the man named Merlin swung her off her feet and into his arms. "Three rounds of ale—drunk in rapid succession—would make me a bit light-headed, and I suspect I'm a far more seasoned drinker than you are." His forward motion ceased, and Aurora squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stop the ceiling from shifting.
"George, which room's empty?" Merlin's voice rumbled against her ear.
"Take number four—second down on your left," the tavern keeper responded.
"T hank s. Send up coffee. A lot of
Purposefully she gulped her ale, her stare fixed on Jackson 's cards. "I have a bit of experience at this, you know," she announced. "Although, if I must be honest, I've only received instruction from one man, and only upon one occasion. However, I enjoyed it immensely and was a quick study. Given time, I'm sure I could be quite proficient."
Jackson 's cards struck the table. "Brazen little thing, aren't ye?" he said, an odd light coming into his eyes. "Well, I've got lots of time. I can teach ye anything ye want to know."
"If ye don't fall asleep first," his whist partner retorted, slapping down his own cards. "If Rory wants instruction, I'm the one to give it. If 'er price ain't too high."
"Price?" Aurora questioned, lowering her tankard and wishing the room would stop spinning. " You'd be doing the teaching—why would I ask for a fee?" She shook her head to clear it. "Besides, I can't learn tonight. Tonight I need to…"
"Sure ye can!" a stocky man at the next table chimed in, striding over to her. "Yer a woman after me own 'eart, cravin' excitement, not shillings."
"What the hell would she want money for?" Jackson mocked. "She's got plenty. She paid for our drinks, didn't she? And 'er gown cost more than this whole bloody pub." He rose as well. "No, ye 'eard 'er, it's experience she's lookin' for." He glared at the others, his fingers closing about Aurora 's arm. "And it's me she came to. C'mon, sweetheart. Let's go up."
Realization crashed down on Aurora with the force of a blow. These men thought she'd been alluding to her sexual proficiency, not her adeptness at whist. They were actually arguing over who was going to take her to bed.
Dear Lord, what had she gotten herself into?
"Please … wait," she began, determined to clarify her intentions before Jackson escorted her up to a liaison that was never going to occur. Yes, she wanted to go upstairs, but not for the purpose he had in mind.
"Mr. Jackson…" She struggled to speak coherently despite the fog shrouding her thoughts. "You don't understand."
"Oh, I understand, all right." He continued to drag her along. "And I'll make ye forget all about that clumsy man who had ye first."
"Let her go, Jackson ."
The deep baritone permeated Aurora 's disoriented state, simultaneously stopping Jackson dead in his tracks. An instant later a strong arm anchored her waist, dragging her away from Jackson and supporting her unsteady weight.
"C'mon, Merlin, don't ye 'ave enough women?" Jackson whined. "Leave this morsel for me."
"This 'morsel' isn't ready for the teaching you have in mind," the baritone shot back.
"She's sure as hell not ready for you."
"No, she's not. But at least I have the good sense to know it." He shifted, hauling Aurora against his side and heading away from the table.
"Merlin?" Aurora twisted about to assess her rescuer and ask about his unusual name. She was confronted by a broad chest and towering height, which she followed upward to hard masculine features set off by probing eyes the color of topaz, blazing through her like twin bolts of lightning.
Her own twisting motion spawned a surge of dizziness—one that made her stomach lurch with alarming intensity. "I don't feel very well."
"I'm sure you don't." Abandoning all attempts at subtlety, the man named Merlin swung her off her feet and into his arms. "Three rounds of ale—drunk in rapid succession—would make me a bit light-headed, and I suspect I'm a far more seasoned drinker than you are." His forward motion ceased, and Aurora squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stop the ceiling from shifting.
"George, which room's empty?" Merlin's voice rumbled against her ear.
"Take number four—second down on your left," the tavern keeper responded.
"T hank s. Send up coffee. A lot of
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