“Aren’t you afraid that he might cause a scene?”
“Honestly?” Hunter raised a brow. “I rather hope he does.”
***
Persephone descended the stairs that night looking like a true mistress. She wore athin red gown in the popular Grecian style, and even though it waslateApril, the evening wassurprisingly dry and rather mild. Atop her head she wore a crown of gold leaves, giving even more credence to her appearance that she was a young Aphrodite, the goddess of love and passion, who dared to leave her throne on Mt. Olympus to mingle with the commoners on earth.
Her lips quirked upward in a satisfied smile when she saw the awestruck expression on Hunter’s face. If she couldn’t win him over by her gentle encouragement, perhaps she could seduce him with her attire, or rather, the lack thereof, for without a petticoat or corset it clearly defined her figure.
When she paused before him and he just continued to stare, she asked, “Are you ready?”
“Indeed.” Hiswords came out a bit choked, so he fell silent and held out his arm.
She immediately accepted his offering and smiled the entire way to the carriage.
As they stopped at the infamous gardens of sensual revelry, however, the nerves began to flutter in her breast. She put a hand to her pounding heart and exhaled slowly. She had always steered clear of this place, but since she was here for Hunter, she could find the courage towalk among the perverse rituals that generally took place here.
Sephy felt a warm hand envelope hers. “It will be fine. I won’t let you out of my sight.”
She looked into the handsome face of her protector and saw the honesty in his gaze. She nodded her acknowledgement and once the duke had alighted, he assisted her down. He instantly threaded her arm through his and began to walk slowly toward the rotunda wheretorches lit their way. Fire breathers andacrobatswere hoping to impress the crowd for abit of coin and every now and then the sparks of brilliant fireworks would light up the night sky.
Under normal circumstances, Sephy would have admired the spectacular displays, butsincethey were on the hunt for Lord Gregory, her mind was more distracted than it would have normally been.And not only wasLord Gregorya very real threat, but the leering, blatantly open stares sheattracted as shepassed caused a chill to travel up her spine. But then, as the daughterof a known harlot who had beenkept by the Duke of Falcourt for the past five years, where it was assumed he returned home on occasion to sample the delights that he paid for, it wasn’t as if she could actcompletely immune. She must play the part, and rather convincingly, if their ruse had any hope of succeeding.
“Falcourt. What an unexpected surprise.”
Sephy turned her head to see that a man with a blasépersonalityhad approached them.She knew who he was, of course, for Jasper Cray, the Earl of Sandton,had been a thorn in her side, accosting her at the theatre and even her mother’s house where he attempted to persuade her to his bed with his lewd advances. He looked likea typical dandy with his yellowwaistcoat and matching jacket, his snow-white cravat impeccablytied and his blond hairpulled back into a queue, but she knew the snake that lurked beneath that outer skin.
Hunter greeted the man with a murmured reply. “As if I would miss the chance to partake of all the delights London has to offer during my time abroad.”
“Indeed.” The earl rubbed his thumb along his lower lip as his hooded stare lit on her. “You certainly have some of the finest pleasures at your disposal. Might you consider sharing?”
Hunter laughed, a deep rich sound that vibrated down to Sephy’s toes. “As if I would let this particular treasure to slip away.” He slipped his arm around her waist, letting the other man know, in no uncertain terms, that his efforts to coerce her from him were in vain.
“Pity.”Lord Sandton removed his snuffbox from his jacket and took a hearty sniff before he bowed slightly and walked away.
“That man is insufferable,” Hunter muttered.
“I couldn’t agree more. He has been rather persistent in gaining my favors over the years.”
At this, Hunter’s brow furrowed as he looked down at her. “I left you to the mercy of the wolveswhen I left, didn’t I?” he said softly, his dark eyes catching the light from the booming display overhead as they caressed her face.
Sephy lifted her chin. She could withstand his aloof manner toward her, but not his sympathy. “I’m not helpless, Falcourt. My mother taught me to be resilient when it comes to overzealous suitors.”
“That may be true, but as your protector, I shouldn’t have put you in such a vulnerable position. I should have seen that someone—”
She held up a hand, cutting him off. “Please, spare me your platitudes. I managed just fine in your absence and if you decide to sever our union, I will survive that too.” She moved out of his grasp. “If you’ll excuse me, I see my mother across the lawn.”
***
Hunter knew he’d insulted Persephone as he watched her walk away. No doubt she was growing weary of being a courtesan in name only. And while she looked decidedly seductive in her flimsy gown that evening, he couldn’t allow himself to indulge. He clenched his fists, for he’d made a vow to himself that he couldn’t break—
hewouldn’tbreak.
He made sure that she had safely joined the other group of harlots before heturned and continued his stroll through the grounds, searching for the oneperson who mattered more than his red-haired temptress.
“I heard you’d returned from India.” Hunter turned to face the dark-haired man who had been alongtimeacquaintance ever since their days wearing short pants in Eton. “I daresay I’m rather put out that you didn’t think it necessary to call on an old friend the moment you returned to London.”
Some of the tension left Hunter’s shoulders as he reached out and clapped the shoulder of Avion Kingsley, the Viscount of Darwood. “It’s good to see you, Darwood.”
