He almost swallowed his own tongue. She tore her attention from the viewing window at last, her stricken gaze meeting his. And he was in a hell of a state. His initial reason for bringing her here—vengeance, pure and ugly—was all but forgotten. His instincts were at war. Part of him wanted to ravish her here and now—as long as she was willing, of course, and spent at least half a dozen times—and part of him wanted to laugh.
Hilariously.
Uproariously.
And so he did, giving in to the weakness he knew would be less dangerous to the path he had chosen for himself so many years ago. He laughed. Because she was so innocent and had no inkling of what she had just seen. He wondered if she’d even realized she’d been viewing two women and one man fornicate.
“Precious, my lord,” he said, extracting a handkerchief from his coat and using it to dab his eyes when at last he’d caught his breath. “Your innocence is precious.”
“You are not concerned in the slightest for the wellbeing of your patrons?” she asked, her voice high.
He slid the viewing window closed, not wanting their dialogue to carry to the occupants of the scarlet chamber and interrupt their enjoyment of each other. “The Viscount is perfectly well, Blanden. Of that you can rest assured.”
“How can I?” Indignant, she rose from her chair, forgetting herself. Forgetting her ruse entirely. “It seems to me that woman was trying to do him harm. He was making all manner of horrid sounds of alarm.”
Dear God.He bit his cheek, wondering how he could respond. Wondering how his plan to shock the innocent Lady Frederica Isling and use her misguided adventure against her father could have gone so awry. He counted to ten inwardly. Then fifteen before he could be assured he would not laugh again.
“My lord,” he said, doing a poor job of keeping his humor at bay, “I thought you would have understood the purpose of this corridor and the private chambers here at The Duke’s Bastard. Indeed, I was certain it was why you had requested access to them. But perhaps you had not realized, in your innocence, the nature of the rooms and the activities within them.”
“I…” she faltered, her full lips parting as she struggled to find her words. How he longed to kiss her, then and there. To press her to the wall and fuse their mouths together.
But it was not meant to be.
Shewas not meant to be.
He knew this.
“These chambers are used for pleasure,” he forced himself to explain. “Club members can choose a lady who appeals to them—or two or three—and bring the lady or ladies to their choice of private chambers for lovemaking.”
Her face went pale. “My God,” she spat, her expression a humorous commingling of horror, disgust, and something else he could not quite define. “You truly are depraved, sir. Do you abuse the privacy of all your members in such an egregious fashion?”
Of course she would think him guilty of spying upon his patrons. He clenched his jaw. “All who are watched are aware of the viewing slots. Indeed, they prefer it. They can choose which member watches, or they can decide to leave it unknown. Not knowing who is watching heightens the pleasure for some. Some members do not dabble in the sin of being watched. Thus, not every chamber possesses viewing windows.”
She stared at him as if he had announced he was Hades himself, and he was about to spirit her away into the underworld. “Lord Eversley is not in danger?”
Irritation pricked him. He disliked her protective inclinations toward the dark-haired lord. He was the antithesis of everything Duncan was, cock included. There was no need to be envious onthatparticular score. “No, the viscount is not in danger. He is being pleasured by two paramours at once. The sounds you referenced? Not alarm but pleasure, my lord. These rooms and viewing windows are dedicated to desire. Nothing more, and nothing less. Witnessing your shock, I can only suggest you leave this club and never return.”
She stared at him for a beat, before her full lips pursed into a moue of displeasure. “No.”
His brows snapped together.What in the hell?Surely he had misheard. “I beg your pardon, my lord?”
“I wish to return,” she said.
He should stop her. Put an end to this. Here was his chance. He could inform her he was not fooled by her ruse and she treaded dangerously close to ruin. But she was daring, and she was lovely, her unusual eyes sparkling with intelligence, and he was a man who could appreciate bravery above all else. He was also a man who could afford to indulge his whims.
Even when he knew he should not.
He flashed her a grin, feeling like a fox who had entered a house of plump hens with no one to stop him from feasting. “When?”
Chapter Three
“Ido begyour pardon, Freddy! You simplycannotbe planning to return to that den of iniquity. To do so would be the height of ruin.”
Yes, it would. But she was not about to allow caution to curtail her quest for knowledge. Frederica chanced a surreptitious glance about the brightly lit Riverford House morning saloon to ascertain their lady’s maids were suitably distracted and beyond earshot before answering her best friend, Lady Leonora Forsythe. Fortunately, their mothers were otherwise occupied—Leonora’s mother was abed in typical fashion, and Frederica’s was on Bond Street, also in typical fashion.
She had paid a call to Leonora, as planned, following her foray into the villainous world of The Duke’s Bastard the previous evening. She’d just finished her full account, neglecting to mention how attractive Mr. Duncan Kirkwood was, for her attraction to the unsuitable man was a moot point.
“Of course I am returning,” she confirmed, keeping her voice low. “I must take advantage of the opportunity available to me whilst it remains. With my father gone to the country and Mother preoccupied as usual, I have unprecedented freedom of motion.”
