The Fighter and the Fallen Woman by Pamela Cayne Read Free Book Online Page A

and cuffs, and a straw bonnet with a fat red rose on one side. If she didn’t dress well, the stern madam of the Red Door was sure to tell Mr. Adams. Once Mr. Adams had taken Lady, one of Mrs. Henderson’s most popular girls and highest earners, out of the house, the madam made sure to keep an extra eye on her on behalf of their master.
    Lady flicked open her parasol of the same Irish lace and set off with Nessie for Canon Street Road and the Red Door Brothel. She could hire a hack, but instead started walking at a leisurely pace, telling herself it wasn’t nerves she felt, only excitement about being able to take a stroll on such a lovely day.
    “What do you plan to do with King?” Nessie asked after a few blocks of silence. Lady had told her about the events of the prior evening when they were quilting. She’d left out her talk with King and how much the kiss affected her, but Nessie knew everything else, including the way Mr. Adams was having Lady care for and report on his fighter. Not only had Nessie been in the business for years, she knew Mr. Adams, and Lady relied on her opinions.
    “Make certain he doesn’t need true medical care, I suppose. I hope King has gotten over whatever made him so upset because I just can’t...”
    “It sounded like King was at odds, himself. You can use that to keep him in line, should you need,” Nessie suggested. She gave one nod, as sharp as her comments. Whores past their prime tended to get very focused on how to survive, everybody else be damned. “If it gets King more set on winning or Mr. Adams more set on giving you presents, it’s all for the best, right?”
    “First we’ll see if he lets us in,” Lady said as they approached the large red door and knocked. It was always locked before entertaining hours. “Then we’ll see what his mood is. Until then, I’ll be the picture of helpful and caring.”
    Nessie nodded, the answer apparently sitting well with her. Lady took a deep breath and put on the air of hauteur expected of her as Mr. Adams’s mistress. When the Red Door’s burly doorman opened the door, Lady sailed past him, Nessie in her wake.
    “You’re new, so I’m only going to say this once. I’m Lady and I’ve been asked by Mr. Adams to see to King.” She headed for the room set back in the corner, where Mr. Adams had installed King.
    She knocked at King’s door and stepped back, wrapping her fingers in the ribbons of her red velvet bag to cover their slight trembling. After a moment of no answer, she stepped forward and knocked again, this time a little louder.
    “What is it? What? What do you want?” King’s voice grew in volume and Lady took another step back as he opened the door. She didn’t know who froze first, but whatever had happened between them last night now locked them together in invisible shackles.
    He stood in the door in dark brown pants, but wore neither shoes nor shirt. Faint bruises bloomed against his ribs and his left eye was slightly swollen, marked by a dark purple crescent underneath. Old habits let her size him up as quickly as she did any man, but new to her was quelling the dusty jolt of awareness that sizzled in her belly when she saw his solid chest, giving way to a lean, flat waist. Not a new vision, especially after last night, but seeing him in his home, nobody around save Nessie, it was different. Everything after that kiss was different, even looking into his eyes.
    The yearning was new, raw. He was looking at her like an orphaned child looked at a couple with a warm, cozy home. Lady couldn’t stop herself from reaching up toward his face. She was just going to touch his cheek, see if she could take the edge off that brutal pain, but as she raised her hand, he took a step back and blinked hard several times. When she made eye contact again, the only thing left in his gaze was irritation. Lady forced her hand up to fuss with her hair, then let it fall back to her side and take up the ribbons of her bag