Chapter 20
Gabe pulled his watch from his pocket and flicked it open. Ten of eleven. He covered a yawn with the back of his lace-bedecked wrist. It was early by society’s standards, but Gabriel had never liked society’s version of time.
The furniture in the pink floral drawing room had been moved about, giving space before the hearth for Mary’s performance. Everyone had found a seat in lightly-stuffed pink floral armchairs, settees, or on a lover’s lap.
Gabe had dropped out of the conversation shortly after Lady Kerr had returned to the room. The men spoke of women, drink, and cards. Frivolous conversation for frivolous minds.
Gabe just waited. Mary was abovestairs in their bedchamber readying herself for a humiliating display of hedonism.
He shifted his seat in the uncomfortable armchair. He rested one elbow upon the armrest and crossed one leg over the other in an attempt to find a more pleasing position.
“I am absolutely certain, Kerr,” Boxton’s voice cut through Gabe’s thoughts, “that you will hand one hundred quid to me by the end of the night.”
Lord Kerr shook his head. “I do not expect to lose that wager, Boxton.”
Lord Reddington chuckled, bouncing his mistress, Mrs. McArthur, on his knee. “I imagine you will enjoy yourself enough, Lord Kerr, that you will ultimately forget that you had entered into the wager from the first. Mary has the ability to take one out of one’s self.”
Gabe bit the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing the lot of them in rather coarse language.
Suddenly, the room fell silent, the only noise was the faint chafing of fabric on fabric and the light, rhythmic breathing of the parlour’s occupants.
Gabe’s gaze caught on Mary as she entered and wouldn’t let go. A lightweight, drab, grey woollen cloak covered her from shoulders to the tips of her toes, and a faint jingling reached his ears as she moved.
She halted in the centre of her performing space and lowered the hood to reveal her chignon. Her hair shone a deep red, backlit by the blazing fire in the hearth. Her expression was one of seductive determination, and it was entirely unsettling.
Ever so slowly, Mary began to slide the cloak from her shoulders, revealing the dark purple, sheer layers of fabric that Mary deigned herself able to don before a room full of men.
A collective gasp cut through the silence of the room as the cloak fell entirely to the floor.
Gabe was stunned. Mary’s middle was wholly exposed, from the underside of her breasts to well below her navel. All that graced that area in between were silver chains with dangling coins that jangled when she moved. The purple skirts reached the floor, but with the firelight glowing behind her, they could all see the outline of her legs. Her arms were visible beneath the long, flowing sleeves, capped by silver embroidered cuffs at the end. And her bodice…Oh Lord, her bodice… Not only was it indecently low, but it was evident that there were very few layers of sheer material concealing her, as Gabe could see dark round disks of some fabric or another covering her nipples.
His heart slammed in his chest.Good God!
With a flirtatious smile upon her lips, Mary began to move. Althoughmovewas hardly the word to describe the painfully alluring movement of her body.Tease, seduce, dumbfound,andstunwere much more accurate.
She kept one knee continuously bent, but alternated from one to the other, the movement forcing each hip to alternately flick upward. Her upper body remained still, and her stomach moved in a bewitching rhythm, causing the coins to jingle to the beat of an alluring tune.
Despite himself, Gabe’s body began to betray him. His blood thrummed with desire, and heat built under the collar of his shirt, spreading throughout his body. Just the movement of her body was enough to send his lust into frenzy.
What she did next only added to his frustrated desire.
With slow, deliberate movements, and with her hips still flicking and coins still jingling, Mary unknotted one layer of her skirts and let it gradually slide through her fingers.
Gabe’s heart hammered unmercifully in his chest as he watched, enthralled as she turned on the spot, giving him a perfect view of herderrièreand continued herflicking.My God, the flicking! With each movement of her hips, her bottom bounced…and with each bounce, his mind thoughtverylicentious thoughts. Mary bent over the side of their bed… Mary bent over a chair, a desk, a table… Hell, Mary bent over anything; the world was rife with possibilities.
She turned back around, the gauzy purple material still in her hands and the epitome of seduction written across her features.
Then his desire waned.
Mary strode swayingly toward Lord Boxton and draped the fabric across his shoulders as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. The cad’s hands rose to grip her waist and Gabriel saw red.
Damn!He had been spellbound by her performance just as the other men had been. How could he have allowed himself to become so enraptured by her that he forgot where and with whom he was?
The bitter taste of resentment began to filter its way through him. He didn’t like the other men sharing in the performance.
Mary drifted away from Boxton to remove yet another layer. One of the men in the room whispered “my God” beneath his breath, but Gabe heard him. One man even groaned aloud. And Gabe hated it.
He let his gaze roam around the room and what he saw made him ever more furious. Each man watched Mary with hunger, devouring her with their eyes; several even licked their lips, damn their hides. The women, while not watching in lust, were still very much captivated by each movement.
