Compromised for Christmas (The Jennings Family #1)

38. Fitz

38

Fitz

A knock sounded on Fitz’s study door. He put down the translation he was working on. “Come in.”

Pemberton stepped in and tugged at his perfectly pressed black coat. “You have a caller, sir. A Mrs. Adelaide Tremayne.”

Fitz’s heart jumped to his throat at the same time he jumped to his feet. “Send her in,” he said, his voice taking on a high pitch.

She must have the items he requested. Finally. Finally, he’d have the instruction he needed. And he could bed his delectable wife. And potentially spank her. Or choke her. Dear Lord. He wiped his palms on his black trousers and let out a breath. He checked the clock on his desk. He would need to make this visit quick. They needed to leave for the Rutledge supper party shortly.

Earlier during their snowball fight had been pure torture. Georgiana had melted in his arms when he’d called her a bad wench. It had made him feel things he’d never felt before. It had made him feel powerful. He’d never in his life felt anything remotely close to powerful. And now, with the information the woman sauntering into his study was about to deliver, he’d be able to test out that power.

Adelaide paused before his desk, a black velvet coat wrapped around her shoulders.

“Mr. Jennings,” she greeted with a secret smile. “You look quite dashing.”

He hurried around his desk to her, stumbling in his haste. “Thank you. Supper Party. You have what I requested?” he asked.

“Easy, puppy,” she whispered softly. She raised her voice and continued, “Yes, I have what you requested. I was able to acquire a few pamphlets, some of which even have illustrations for you. Along with a few letters two acquaintances who work in my trade wrote between each other…with details, examples, and advice on more exotic proclivities.”

He blew out a breath. “Thank you, Adelaide. Truly.” He took the bundle she’d retrieved from inside her cloak and slapped it down on the desk. He pulled open the top drawer and withdrew a purse. “I have your payment here.”

She glided over, but didn’t take the purse. “There was one other thing I wanted to mention, Mr. Jennings.”

It was so odd to hear her call him that, but he realized it wasn’t proper for her to call him anything but. He frowned. He probably shouldn’t be calling her Adelaide in his own home, either. Fitz paused. Actually…he probably shouldn’t have had her meet him here.

“Mr. Jennings?” she prodded.

He cleared his throat. “Apologies. What was it you wanted to say, Mrs. Tremayne?”

She tapped the bundle. “These have plenty of instruction, but I have also included the information of a brothel in the top note. The brothel does not just serve those seeking a wench. The Madame there also provides rooms for the use of couples.”

Fitz’s eyebrows lifted, and Adelaide chuckled. He couldn’t deny the idea was intriguing.

“Regardless, she will have everything you need to partake in your wife’s wildest desires. You can rent rooms there that are furnished with every prop you could ever need. Rooms where you can watch or be watched, can find others who would be willing to join you, whatever your heart, or other parts desire…”

Fitz swallowed audibly. Georgiana liked being watched. Would that be something she wanted? He pulled at his cravat.

“And I am sure the Madame would gladly answer any specific questions you have. She is extremely discreet. I thought it might be a good fit for you.”

Perhaps someday he would be ready for that. For now, his bed would do just fine. He extended the coin purse and smiled. “Thank you so much for your services, Mrs. Tremayne. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

She smiled, but it looked sad. She reached for the purse, her fingers lingering. “Goodbye, puppy,” she whispered. She took the payment and tucked it in her cloak.

A throat cleared softly in the doorway.

His gaze shot to the doorway. Georgiana stood there, resplendent in a shimmering, silver gown, blonde curls done up with brilliants and pearls. She looked like an ice princess. And her expression was just as glacial. Oh, dear.

He glanced at Adelaide. Alarm bells tolled in his brain.

“ Breathe ,” Adelaide mouthed.