“So, you will be calling on her.”
“No. I will be visiting Athena’s Salon. Would you care to join me this evening?”
Her grey eyes twinkled with mischief. “I believe that I will.”
“You cannot bring Storm,” he reminded her. “Unless he has already been granted permission.”
“I doubt that he would care to attend. Besides, he is required elsewhere.” She smiled brightly. “Until this evening, dear brother.” Then, in a whirl of a skirt, she was gone.
If Blythe truly thought him a rake, he could be. He was not without charm, when it was necessary, and he certainly enjoyed seducing a woman, even if it had been far too long since…Bloody hell!
He still didn’t even know for certain why she left, but if it was different than what he assumed, perhaps he would be just what she thought him to be. And with those thoughts, he closed the office and went above to his set of rooms to meticulously prepare his appearance for tonight. When his brother and Lavinia arrived, he directed them to retrieve Isabella, then the four of them were taken to Athena’s Salon.
It was Lavinia who entered first and nodded to a burly footman who stood just inside the door.
“They have vouchers from Her Grace, the Duchess of Claybrook,” she said.
The hulk of a man nodded and stepped back.
“Are there many more like him?” Demetrius asked quietly.
“Four I believe. A few inside and a few outside. They guard the premises and provide security for those within. At least two remain here even when Athena’s Salon is closed.”
It was good to know that the women and their guests were protected and Orlando would hate to end up in a quarrel with the giant.
“Is it gambling or discussion that you are interested in this evening?” Lavinia asked.
He was here because of Blythe only but would not tell his sister-in-law so. “I am not certain.”
“I prefer the salon and discussions.” She started through the entrance toward a corridor. “Your hostess this evening is Lady Blythe so if you need anything, she will do her best to accommodate you.”
Isabella arched a brow and smirked.
Orlando ignored her.
What he needed could not be asked in a room full of people, but he would bide his time until the moment that they could be alone.
He followed Lavinia into a long parlor, or drawing room. He wasn’t certain what he had expected, but it was not the several sitting areas in which people had gathered. In a small area art was displayed on easels where others gathered to discuss. On the back wall a servant stood behind a bar and provided beverages. One could have coffee, tea, wine, brandy or it appeared nearly any type of beverage they wished.
Not far away was a long table in which foodstuffs had been placed, also monitored by a servant and the members could take a plate, fill it with delicacies and return to their conversations.
There were no tables such as one would find at White’s, but the gentleman’s club hadn’t been designed for such a gathering as this.
He wandered toward the back and requested a brandy before he turned and studied the room and the occupants, but Blythe was not present. With a frown, he looked at the opening at the back of the room and wandered out and then across the hall where he entered a room for gambling, filled with baize tables for seating up to six individuals playing Faro, Baccarat and Vingt-et-un, but Blythe was not there either. He thought she was to act as the hostess this evening. If so, where was she?
He turned and left the gambling room with the intention of returning to the drawing room to search once again. It was rather crowded and perhaps he had missed her but halted his steps when she emerged from the back of the house.
His heart nearly stopped again, despite the impossibility of it doing so, which caused him to suck in a breath when he saw her. Blythe was wearing a daring, yet fashionable gown of gold, her black hair pulled behind in an elegant chignon, curls framed her face and some caressed her nearly bare shoulders.
In truth, her bodice was not so daring, even though the swells of her breasts were pressed against the fabric and in a way that made his mouth water, he just had not seen her clothed as such. On the continent there had been modesty to her dress, almost as if she were still an innocent miss. The same had been the case at the Venetian Breakfast and at the flower market. However, tonight, she was enchanting, desirable, beautiful, and Orlando immediately lusted after her. He wanted to peel the shoulders of her gown down until her full breasts were exposed so that he could feast on them before removing everything she wore so that he could kiss every inch of her exposed skin before claiming her as his own.
Bloody hell! If he continued with such thoughts, he would become very uncomfortable and need to shield his person or everyone would know where his thoughts strayed.
“Good evening, Dr. Valentine. I am glad that you could join us this evening.”
She greeted him so professionally…so…distant.
“You used to call me Orlando,” he reminded her.
