“The viewing you requested, my lord,” he said, sliding the small door covering, the viewing hole open.
He looked first, needing to be certain what she was about to see was suitably shocking. Within the scarlet chamber, two of his ladies had a naked Viscount of Eversley tied to the bed. One was dripping hot candle wax upon his chest and the other was on her knees betwixt his spread thighs, running her tongue over the head of his erect cock.
Pity his lordship’s prick was on the smaller side. It would have been much more shocking for Lady Frederica to spy a Priapus rather than a Lilliputian. But some things simply could not be helped.
Duncan stepped away from the viewing slot and gestured for her to take his place. “Here you are, my lord.”
The scent of violets taunted him, perfuming the air. He slid the viewing slot closed and drew a chair forward. Some who made use of the viewing corridor preferred to be seated so they could discreetly pleasure themselves as they watched.
“Take a seat if you please, my lord,” he invited.
Lady Frederica frowned up at him, but she did as he asked, gingerly seating her bottom on the edge of the chair, as if it was fashioned of live hearth coals rather than the finest upholstery, stuffing, and wood. He opened the slot before her, unable to resist drawing nearer to her.
Lust hummed through him, and it had nothing to do with the voluptuary scene unfolding on the other side of the wall and everything to do with the lady he was about to shock. Perhaps even horrify, though he hoped his inquisitorial minx would at least know a modicum of prurient interest. The moment crackled with intimacy, almost the way the air did in the midst of a lightning storm. Anticipation made his cock twitch. The mere notion of opening her eyes to the sins of the flesh aroused him in a way it ought not.
“What am I going to see, sir?” she asked, frowning at him as if she did not trust him.
Wise girl.
“An education.” He reached out, plucking her spectacles from the bridge of her nose. “You may thank me later, my lord.”
“Sir,” she protested. “I cannot see without them.”
“Try,” he said, tucking the spectacles inside his coat. He had no intention of returning them to her, as he was reasonably certain she did not even require the damned things to see. They were now his spoils, along with everything else that would come of her ill-fated trip to his territory. “Press your eye to the hole, my lord, and tell me what you see. If you require the spectacles, I shall return them.”
A fabrication, of course. But she had laid the foundation for deception, and he was merely playing this game of chance by the rules she had established. He watched with grim satisfaction as she tentatively leaned forward and placed her eye to the small viewing hole.
He waited for a gasp.
Waited for her outrage.
And was met only with her silence and stillness.
Duncan hesitated another minute more, trying to dismiss the fresh surge of desire her rapt attention for the depravity in the scarlet chamber sent through him. Was she watching because she was intrigued? Because—Lord help him—the salacious scene unfolding struck a chord of desire within her? Or was it because she had been telling the truth about the spectacles and without them, she could not distinguish a cock from a chair leg? He rather hoped it was one of the formers instead of the latter. The thought of her enjoying the wickedness unfolding before her made him impossibly hard.
That simply would not do.
He cleared his throat. Attempted to clear his mind. Failed abysmally, for the only question on his lips was a wicked one. “My lord, what do you see?”
“I see a man cavorting with two women of loose morals,” she announced frostily, but still she did not move. “Good heavens, that is Viscount Eversley. He courted me…er, my sister last season.”
His entertainment soured at the notion of Eversley flirting with and attempting to woo Lady Frederica. Eversley was a fop, and he gambled far too deep for his pockets. Duncan liked the man even less now he knew Eversley had been sniffing after the paradox before him. At least there was a season between them now, which meant either Lady Frederica had been wily enough to reject Eversley’s suit or Eversley had searched for a larger dowry and a less distinguishing mind elsewhere.
Either way, he had not expected her to recognize Eversley, and the fact she had presented a quandary.
“Naturally, you are aware anything you witness within these walls must remain here,” he was quick to remind her. The positions of far too many wealthy, important lords would be in jeopardy if their peccadilloes were ever to be made public.
Secrecy, discretion, and a healthy respect for each other were core tenets of his club. Along with debauchery, sin, and overindulgence, of course. But if even one gentleman’s privacy was violated, Duncan’s entire castle could crumple and fall about his feet. If the men who spent and won their fortunes in his establishment did not trust him, they would no longer frequent it. If they no longer frequented it, he would be left with a hulking, expensive St. James’s Street building, a ridiculously costly French chef, hundreds of bottles of illicit whisky, the money he had amassed over the years, and not much else.
But it would appear she was not in the least inclined toward bandying gossip about, not for the moment.
“Good…oh dear, he is…oh my, she is…that is…heavens. I did not think it possible,” she was saying to herself, her eye pressed to the viewing slot. “This is most irregular, I feel certain, Mr. Kirkwood.”
Yet, she did not look away. She held herself still, as if riveted to the wicked sights before her.
It was the first time she had called him by his name, and he liked the sound of it on her tongue, delivered in her husky rasp. “Please do call me Duncan,” he invited, for he longed to hear that name on her lips above all else. He wished for a drink in that moment. A whisky. A brandy. A port.By God, anything.
She gasped, the sound undeniably feminine. “Why is she sitting upon his face? How can he breathe? Mr. Kirkwood, you must put an end to this madness at once. I do believe that young woman is attempting tomurderLord Eversley. And whilst I never liked the fellow, I cannot countenance his demise as I watch on.”
