She walked up the marble steps, past the stately pillars, up to the door where a masked man in the garb of a butler stood at attention. She had barely stepped through the door when an arm swiftly came down, barring her entrance.
Juliana tamped down the rising frustration in her chest. First, the man in the bathhouse, and now this. All the doormen in London seemed bent on refusing her entrance.
“Your invitation,” the man said coolly.
She gave him her best imitation of a haughty smile. “Do I even need one?”
“Everybody needs an invitation to enter The Arrangement.”
She pursed her lips and hoped it passed for scorn instead of sheer frustration. “The domestics have unfortunately misplaced it, but I am with the baron.”
He raised a supercilious eyebrow. “There are many barons in The Arrangement. You will need to be more specific, or I will have to ask you to leave.”
Leave? She could not leave. Not yet. Not without Kit.
“Let her in, Fairfax. The lady is with me.”
That voice. It cannot be…
Juliana stiffened at the sound. Tendrils of warmth seemed to wrap around her, seeping into her pores, and dulling her senses yet heightening others. The familiar sensation from the bathhouse surged once more, settling in her lower belly. Even lower, there was a faint pulsing that felt as if it was attuned to the rapid beating of her own heart.
I must be losing my mind.
Dimly, she was aware of the butler stepping aside to allow them entrance, bowing almost deferentially to the man behind her. Unlike Juliana, he was addressed with an ingratiating tone, as if there were no guest he had been anticipating more.
“Do you really want to see what goes on inside?” the masked stranger asked her, his warm breath fanning over her neck, tickling the sensitive shell of her ear.
Want? No, sheneededto be in there.
Juliana nodded her head slightly. She feared that if she spoke, her agitation would be made even more apparent. No, it was much wiser that she shut her mouth.
In response, she heard a low chuckle from the man behind her. When he straightened himself, she nearly cried out keenly from the loss.
What was wrong with her? She was supposed to go in, find out what her wayward brother was up to, and maybe give him an earful when they returned to the townhouse.
She should not be letting a man charm her with the timbre of his voice alone!
She flashed him a dazzling smile. “Many thanks for your assistance, sir. I shall take it from here.”
Without waiting for his response, she dashed inside before either the man or the butler could stop her.
As soon as she stepped through the door, a most unholy din assailed her senses. Weeks of frugality, where lighting was concerned, had rendered her with exceptional eyesight even in the dark—a talent she would now have willingly foregone if it meant that she could shield herself from the tableau that presented itself before her.
Men and women in various states of undress littered the rooms, their bawdy laughter and lewd sighs rising to the vaulted ceilings. A woman threw her head back as a man feasted onher bare chest. Another man had shucked off his breeches and begun to chase after his companion, who was laughing giddily in naught but her chemise. Various articles of clothing littered the floor, haphazardly discarded by their owners in their quest for unbridled hedonism. The only part of their attire they had not eschewed in their debauchery was their masks.
This… this was where Kit was rushing off to? This was where her brother spent his time, while her every waking thought was consumed with finding every possible way she might still be able to save their family?
“I thought you knew what you were getting yourself into.” She heard a low voice mutter from behind her. “One look from your expression, however, and I can tell that you have never been to such a gathering before.”
Juliana could not even muster a reply. Could not even think beyond the haze of confusion and rage. The first could be attributed to her sheer astonishment that there were people who gathereden massefor such a thing. The second was directed—without reservations—at her scoundrel of a brother.
And then, there was that strange tingling in between her legs. A sudden sensation of restraint in her chest. A heat that suffused her from low within her belly, radiating to her scalp, to the very tips of her fingers and toes.
“Come.”
On any other occasion, she might have willfully disregarded such an authoritarian command. Juliana did not take very well to being ordered about—a trait that Grandmama often bemoaned.
This time, however, she allowed that low, decadent baritone to seep into her consciousness. Allowed those large hands to wrap themselves around her upper arms to steer her away from the maddening sight before her.
