𝗧𝗲𝗻

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CHAPTER TEN

The pins holding back her hair dug so deep that a headache set in after half an hour. Adelaide couldn't complain. It gave her something else to concentrate on other than the incessant rambling of a tiny man. Kimber had gained a habit of complimenting her hair, her body, and the red paint on her lips. Though he had a way of making it sound predatory with his leering. Gleaming pearls lay around her neck- they'd almost been ripped by his pull.

Kimber had grown annoyed by the smoke of her cigarettes after another hour. She could tell by the petulant pinch to his face and when he held out his hand, forcing her to take it, his grip was tight, knuckles white. They were on the dance floor before she could protest.

It was too busy for her to see past the closest faces of those spinning past them. But up by the stairway, where the band played and the doors opened up onto the stands of the racecourse, she could see him. Tommy Shelby stood over the hall like a king. Beside him was Grace, her shoulders cloaked in a lace shawl, her hair glinting like the colour of a crown.

Adelaide was not the only one to find him in the crowd.

"The Peaky Blinders are here," Kimber hissed. Their presence only seemed to embolden his wandering hands and cocky steps. "He's got some balls showing up here."

And while his hands found lower down her back, his eyes scraped further up Grace's. "And she's got some body."

Adelaide tried not to scoff. "You're a flattering man, Mr Kimber."

"I have my ways," Kimber said, a misplaced smirk gracing his pinched features. "If I can get a pretty girl like you, I can get that blonde barmaid too."

She would not play into his games by responding bitterly. With eyes never leaving Grace, Kimber made his way back to the table, hands leaving her body with relief and Adelaide was left to show herself to the seat by his side. His accountant's eyes never left her but nor did Tommy Shelby's.

After a dance, he left Grace at the bar. Her dress was red, the colour of dusk and lust, favoured by Kimber. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it, ignoring the men that leered at her alone.

"I was promised a dance."

Tommy loomed over her, hand held out to the side. Adelaide spared no hesitation in taking it, ignoring the scoff of the man whose pride was hurting. As she was led to the centre of the room, where the music of the band was louder, there was no pressure on her lower back, no expectation in the gripping of his fingers. Adelaide rose her brow as he turned to look at her, letting her place her hands on his shoulders.

"You could have smacked him and he wouldn't have been as offended."

"He's proud when it comes to his women."

"Oh, I know," she said, thinking of the way Kimber had spun her across the floor. "He's like a preening peacock. His face says it all."

"Hm, can't say I saw his face. I was too busy looking at something else."

She did not back down in her gaze. Adelaide refused to blush. If only he knew exactly who she was, who he was complimenting. The thought of such powerful deception spurred her on with a lilting type of speech.

She leaned forward until her mouth was by his ear, teasing. "How much whiskey have you had this evening, Tommy, for you to speak words like that?"

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