Salvation of Ignorance

Chapter 6: Devious Admiration of Her

"Madam, she saw my face, not yours."

"Yes, you've said that, but what I've been trying to express is that she may possibly be waiting downstairs to see who emerges from this room."

Her mouth had been more tolerable while she was silent.

"Well, shall I be the first to descend?" Niall suggested, though his focus rested on ensuring that he wouldn't have to make a fifth attempt to retie his cravat.

"No, it would be the greater of two evils if another of your guests found me alone in your chambers."

He nodded while rising from the foot of the bed with his hand at his vest, an additional precaution to any other artifacts that may refuse to submit to order. Strolling up behind the crossed-armed, elderly woman, he slid his hands along the linear slope below her lower arms. As he graced his lips along the backside of her lower jaw, she flinched a re-establishment of distance between them.

"You may open the door now."

He flexed his hands and had to remind himself that he was as disinterested in her presence as this woman strived to appear of him. Stepping to the side, he complied to her command, all the while restraining a mocking repeat of it.

"I apologize for the interruption. What time was allotted was alluring, Mrs.--," Niall reached for his tailcoat's inner pocket for his favor.

"I believe it's best we part as acquaintances."

Her husband must frequent the red light district.

The anonymous hag jolted the door from his hand, but had either enough decency or self-preservation to not repeat the earlier abuse that caused the door to cry out.

Niall returned to the guest bed and, though its mattress stiff, the warmth tempted him with a promise of slumber. Inwardly groaning in protest to his rational refusal, he rolled upon his back and became very aware of the silence cloaking his room in comparison to the menagerie of voices from below. Sleep received his heartfelt apology once he accepted that the paper-thin floorboards required him to wander below and join the party of strangers. He reassured both the temptation and himself that an hour would be sufficient in deriving whether anyone had a witnessing ear to the earlier disturbance.

The outcome of the additional minutes spent combating sleep--since he was uncertain as to the likelihood of his happening upon the bitter ol' bat should he emerge early--was that opportunity presented Miss Barrettmore's substitute for a farewell to surface.

Irritation to the surface of his palms killed any remaining urges toward slumber. Elevating his torso, he rested a shoulder upon the bed post and went to work to alleviate the sensation. He questioned the fundamental reasoning for her disgust. Certainly she was not unfamiliar with what may have transpired had she not trespassed.

Niall grinned as the itching heeled.

Laughing in further confirmation of his original hypothesis, a curiosity conspired toward Miss Barrettmore's reasoning for choosing to visit the upstairs hallways in abandonment to the undoubtedly elaborate array of entertainment below. Well, perhaps not 'reason', but 'person'. Curiosity made him aware of the ridiculously stiff nature of the bed and increased his newly found impatience for testing out his hypothesis.

"Claremont!"

Niall turned, now reassured that someone was indeed vying for his attention.

He had scaled through the rooms inside in search of the chit, but found that the percentage of the ton, who took to Peter's invites, had increased the heat and airlessness of the rooms. The excess illumination was also of equal blame. His outdoor search was hampered, for a period of time, by his need to wait for his eyes to readjust to the difference in illumination. Not his wisest decision, for they had adjusted enough to see the displeased expression upon his caller's face.