Page 95 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
“She married a lord,” said Edward, thinking of his friends fondly.
Tabby’s eyebrows drew together. “Then why does she work?”
Edward couldn’t contain his laughter. “She’s a talented tailoress! And in truth, her husband is only the fifth son of a duke. His income isn’t so great as you might think. Especially since he was something of a scapegrace before devoting himself to the worship of his wife.”
“She must be very pretty,” said Tabby wistfully.
“She’s pretty and clever and a game girl,” said Edward with a smirk. “Her husband loves her and keeps her belly full.”
It took Tabitha a moment to realize what he meant, then her eyes flew to his.
It was the first time she’d really met his eyes that day after waking to him wrapped around her. She dipped her head as if to sniff his cast-off clothes.
“Do men want their courtesans in a breeding state?” she asked, the idea suddenly sounding appealing.
“Very much no, with a few exceptions,” said Edward. “I’ll get you set up with French envelopes and seeds so you can stay working.”
Tabby sighed. “I suppose, if I must.”
He laughed and nudged her with his shoulder. “Maybe you’ll end up liking your profession.”
“Do you like yours?” she asked, sending him a glare.
“Fine, fine,” he groused. “What have you got there?”
Tabby withdrew the book Edward had been looking at in bed.
“Tabitha! You can’t bring pornographic books out in public,” he hissed, glancing around the park to see if anyone was observing them.
She tucked the volume back in her jacket but brought forth the notes from Edward’s father.
“I noticed you didn’t want to discuss your case last night.”
He scoffed.
“And you left our rooms without taking the notes this morning,” she said.
“Ourrooms,” he grumbled. “Perhaps I’ve memorized the contents of the pages!”
“Fine. What does the first say?”
“I thought you couldn’t read much.”
“I can read well enough to know that you’re spinning a tale.”
“You calling me a liar, Tobias?” asked Edward, leaning close and accidentally using his friend’s old name. “Tabby,” he corrected.
She pressed the pages into his breastbone, stubborn as ever, and met his glare. “Your horse is in the hands of a, well, a, a terrible person!”
“How do you know he’s bad? What if I’m spinning tales about him?”
“You doubt your father is an evil person?” she asked, horror dawning on her face. “He’s holding Tencendor hostage! And he abandoned you when you needed him!”
“He intervened to keep my neck out of the noose,” said Edward, rising from the bench, agitated and needing to move his legs.
“And then left you with no support when he has plenty of coin? You wouldn’t do that to me, and I’m not even your heir!”
“Yes, but you’re…” Edward walked back and forth, then changed tack. “What if I’m all those things he says I am?”
