Julian had sat down on the cobbles, leaning against a wooden chest, his eyes half closed. He roused himself sufficiently to make short work of the porter and downed his own plate of oysters with a beatific smile.
"Would you like to walk around the market a little, Chloe?" Denis suggested. "It might amuse you."
Chloe shivered. The cropped jacket was not particularly windproof, and suddenly the adventure had lost its savor. "I'm cold and I think Frank and Julian need their beds."
"Then we'll go," he said promptly. "Come on." He tugged at Frank's sleeve. "Unless you want us to leave you."
Grumbling but acquiescent, the other two followed them away from the fishmarket. "We'll find a hackney on the corner," Denis said. He shrugged out of his coat of olive superfine and put it around Chloe's shoulders. "I should have thought to have provided an overcoat."
Chloe smiled up at him as she huddled into the warm folds. "I didn't think about it being cold either. Are you sure you don't mind?"
"Not in the least." He offered a gallant bow.
They had barely reached the corner, when a wavering lantern ahead caused Frank to shout, "The watch… I see the watch. Let's give him a run for his money."
He and Julian began running toward the watchman with his lantern on a pole.
"What are they doing?" Chloe stopped.
"Childish games," Denis said. "They're just teasing him."
Julian tipped the watchman's hat over his eyes and Frank blew out his lantern, then grabbed the pole, trying to pull it loose from the watchman's grip. The man bellowed in fury, turning around in circles as he tried to push his hat up while keeping hold of his lantern.
"Oh, stop it!" Chloe shouted, running toward them. "Stop it. Leave the man alone."
"Spoilsport," Frank said huffily, releasing the pole.
The watchman had just succeeded in freeing his eyes from his hat and now, gibbering with fury, lunged for Julian with his stick. Julian dodged effortlessly until his fool caught on an uneven cobble and he fell to his knees. The man was upon him in an instant, and Frank rushed to the rescue.
"Come on." Denis had swept Chloe out of the alley before she realized it. "Leave them to it. If you get taken up by the watch, your guardian would be justified in taking a horsewhip to me."
"To me, not you," Chloe said, running with him. "I take responsibility for my own actions, Denis… but of all the silly, childish…"
"Yes, they are," Denis agreed, flagging down a hackney. "But drink does that to people." The pious statement made him chuckle inwardly. Alcohol, as he was privileged to know, should be used to enhance pleasure and free the mind from restraint. Frank and Julian had no knowledge of its best uses. They were mere babies.
It hadn't made Hugo silly and childish, Chloe reflected as she climbed into the carriage. Just rather frightening. It was a function of maturity, she assumed, glancing sideways at her companion. Denis did not seem to lack maturity. She wondered what it was that set him apart from his peers. Perhaps it was just that extra dimension of intelligence she'd noticed before. Whatever it was, it made him a pleasant although unwitting partner in the flirtation that was supposed to pique Hugo into some response. Supposed being the operative word, she reflected a touch glumly. But perhaps that would change after tonight.
The hackney drew up outside the house in Mount Street. "No, don't get out," Chloe said in an urgent whisper as Denis moved to step ahead of her onto the pavement. "Just in case anyone's watching from the house." She had slipped past him on the seat and jumped lightly to the ground before he could remonstrate.
"Good night, Denis, and thank you for a splendid adventure." Standing on tiptoe, she smiled warmly at him through the window.
"I'll see if I can think of some others," he replied. "If you'd like."
"I'd like." She blew him a kiss, turned, and ran up the steps to the front door. The house seemed to be in darkness, and she stooped to peer through the keyhole. A dim glow showed in the hall. Had Samuel also left the door unlocked? Softly, she turned the great brass knob and the door swung open. She whisked herself into the shadowy hall and turned to close the door.
"I trust you had a pleasant evening."
"Hugo!" She spun around. "You startled me."
Hugo, in buckskin britches and shirt-sleeves, was leaning against the newel post at the bottom of the stairs, one foot resting on the first step, his arms casually folded across his chest.
"Somehow, my devious little hoyden, I doubt that," he said dryly. "You're not going to tell me you weren't expecting me to wait up for you? That would be a true insult to my intelligence."
When she didn't respond, he examined her with an air of mild curiosity. Samuel had not exaggerated. Her costume was utterly outrageous, every line and curve of her body shamelessly delineated. He shook his head, pursing his lips. "I just don't seem to be able to get your attention, do I, lass?"
But I've got yours. The exultant thought set her blood leaping in her veins as she waited for his next move. She could read the arousal in his eyes as clearly as if he'd spoken it.
"Take them off," he said.
"What? My clothes?" That had startled her.
"If that's what you choose to call them."
"Here?" She glanced around the hall in disbelief.
"Here," he affirmed. "And now. Take them off, fold them up, and put them on the table."
Chloe drew a deep breath, her tongue peeping from between her lips as she contemplated this instruction. The light in the hall was dim and the house was quiet, but there was no absolute guarantee that some member of the household wouldn't appear.
"Don't oblige me to repeat myself," he said evenly.
She swallowed. The game seemed to have acquired an edge, and she was no longer sure of where it was taking them. She shot him a quick glance and was un-reassured by his expression. The arousal was still there, but ominous little flames were aflicker in the green eyes. With a mental shrug of resignation, she tossed the velvet cap onto the marble-topped console table and unbuttoned the jacket.
Hugo watched, unmoving, as she divested herself of the coat, shirt, shoes, nankeen trousers, white socks. She folded them neatly and put them on the table. Then, in her chemise and drawers, she regarded him inquiringly.
"Finish it," he instructed in the same level tone he had used throughout.
A delicate flush bloomed on her cheekbones. "Hugo-"
"I can assure you you'll look no less indecent naked than you did dressed." He interrupted her half-formed protest. "If that's what's worrying you. Although I find it hard to credit… you seem to have not one iota of modesty."
"It was only a game." She could hear how lame it sounded.
"Well, if I can manage to get your attention this time, maybe it'll be one you won't play again. Now, strip."
Chloe pulled the chemise over her head and slipped out of her drawers. "Satisfied?" She glared at him, half angry, half defiant.
Closing his mind to the utter enchantment of her body, the slender limbs quivering in the chill of the hall, the glowing ivory of her skin, he nodded and gestured past him. "Now you may go upstairs."
She blinked. His foot was still on the bottom step and the space between his body and the other newel post was very narrow. It did not look like a safe passage.
Oh, well, she'd just have to shoot the gap. Taking a deep breath, she leapt for the stairs, scrambled past him and upward with the desperate lithe agility of a gazelle fleeing the lion.
Hugo grinned and followed her, enjoying the view.
"My room," he instructed as she reached the head of the stairs.
That sounded more promising, as if there would be a satisfactory conclusion to what had become an uncomfortable situation. Chloe reached Hugo's room at the end of the corridor and put herself on the other side of the door with a sigh of relief. Running naked through the house was not an experience she would choose to repeat.