She’d never known that men’s appetites could be so … varied. And the women’s, too, as Julius was quick to point out. Amanda shifted in her seat. For once she’d have news to write to Liz. Her sister’s letters from Italy were full of new discoveries, descriptions of art and architecture, admirations over the food. Amanda could only respond that she and Reggie fared well. Her letters were all of three sentences long. Now she would get to tell her sister about a new experience.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and Julius pushed open the door and hopped down. Amanda could hear the footman huff, and she smothered a smile. The duke’s household were an unfortunate lot. With their master and mistress gone, they served a woman they didn’t want to, and weren’t allowed to serve the lord they did.
Julius stretched out a hand, and she grabbed it, holding on tightly. She could do this. Two steps down to exit the carriage. Her feet froze when she saw the cobblestone of the street below. Could she do this? Perhaps it would be better—
Julius yanked on her hand, and she tumbled down the steps, landing heavily against his chest.
His arm banded around her waist. He tugged her hood further down her forehead and leaned close. “No one can recognize you,” he whispered. “You can stay wrapped up in your cloak all night, if you wish. Although it would be a shame not to show off how lovely you look in that corset. And”—he traced the ridge of her mask over her nose—“I’ll be by your side all night. You are perfectly safe.”
Amanda nodded. She hoped he was right. Her palms were damp inside her gloves, and she didn’t think her struggle to breathe was entirely due to the tightly-laced bodice. But she had to take the chance.
She held onto his hand like she was drowning and let him lead her past a footman at the door to The Black Rose.
The bright lights of the gas lamps on the walls made her blink. She’d expected dimly lit rooms, with shifty-eyed patrons. Not the tasteful soiree they’d stepped into. The artwork along the walls was elegant, and the plush, embroidered settees scattered about the room fashionable. The walls were covered with hand-painted paper in designs of gold, and candles winked through crystal prisms in the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
Two men sitting in the corner glanced up at their entrance. Apparently finding nothing unusual in her cloak and mask, they returned to their conversation. A woman carrying a tray of drinks circulated the room, trading full glasses for empties.
“This isn’t what I expected from a …”
“Venus club?” Julius provided helpfully. “What did you expect?”
“Well …”
“Women dancing naked? A seething den of iniquity?”
Amanda flapped the hem of her cloak, the crackling fires on both sides of the room making her sweat. “Well, yes. I expected people to bedoingmore than drinking and talking.”
Julius placed his palm on her lower back and guided her slowly around the room. “This is the main room. It’s like a normal club, where members meet and talk. Sometimes gamble. The amusements begin when you go down that hallway.” He pointed to their right, to a corridor papered in muted red-and-gold stripes.
Amanda craned her neck but could see nothing but a row of doors before the hallway ended at a T-junction.
“I’ll show you whichever room you’d like.” Julius’s breath was hot against her neck. He traced the rim of her ear with his finger, and a shiver skittered down her spine. “Just as soon as I speak to someone.”
Amanda inhaled slowly through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. If she focused on such minute matters the swirl of people about her wasn‘t nearly so intimidating. Or so she told herself. “The tall, spindly man you told me about in the carriage? The one who threatened the clerk’s family at this club?” Julius had relayed his conversation with Mr. Dawnley, although she suspected he’d kept some key bits of information back. But for a man trained in secrecy, the fact that he told her anything warmed her heart.
“No, it would be too convenient to find that man here tonight.” Julius scanned the room, the flecks of green in his eyes catching the light and making them seem more hazel than brown. He might not think the man was here, but Julius looked like a hunter searching for prey just the same. “It’s the proprietress I’ve come to speak with.”
Ah, yes, the beautiful woman with flaming-red hair. Amanda remembered that description, too. She tugged her gloves off, tucking them into her cloak’s pocket, and enjoyed the air swirling around her palms.
Julius had a few low words with a man in a service uniform. He nodded, and the man disappeared into a small door in the side of the room. A woman in a diaphanous gown strolled past, carrying her tray of drinks. Julius plucked off two and pressed one into Amanda’s hand. “Madame Sable has yet to come down from her rooms. We will wait.”
Amanda shifted, placing Julius’s body between her and the fireplace. She flapped the hem of her cloak open. “How long must we wait?”
“As long as it takes.” Julius stared at the door the servant had gone through, the one that presumably led to Madame Sable’s quarters. He had the uncanny ability to hold himself absolutely motionless. He would stand, rooted in place, for as long as it took. It was a stillness she recognized.
But not one she wished to emulate tonight. “Can we find a cooler place in which to wait? Between the corset, cloak, and my hair hanging free, I am hotter than one of Hades’ handmaidens.”
His lips twitched.“There is a remedy for that.” He flicked one side of her cloak back. A cool draught of air swirled across her bare shoulder, and she almost moaned in relief. But the feeling of being open, exposed, caused her skin to itch, and she shrugged the cloak back into place.
She kept her gaze on his chest, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes. “The gown you gave me to wear under the corset has no sleeves.” Better to let him think she objected on decency grounds.
He stepped close, his chest brushing against hers. “You’ve left the security of your home. Taken a risk to come here,” he murmured. “I am very proud of you.”
She drew a triangle in the carpet with the toe of her slipper. Of course, he would see through her deceit. “You must be ashamed of my weakness but are too kind to admit it.”
He encircled her waist with his hands and squeezed even tighter than the corset. “You are stronger than you think.” He sighed. “And you are also burning up. Perhaps we can find a less heated room to wait in.”
Taking her hand, he led her down the red-and-gold hallway, silently opening doors and peering inside rooms, before finding the one he wanted. He pressed his finger to her lips in warning and drew her into a room lit only by a few candles surrounding a low bench. Something shifted, stretched out on the bench, and the figure of a woman lying on her stomach emerged into view.
