She chuckled softly. “Do not rule it out quite yet. For all we know, there may be a naked woman on the dining room table that we all must pull our food from.”
“No.” His eyes rounded at her comment.
“You did see our dressing room, did you not?”
As color rose up his neck and his Adam’s apple bobbed, she grinned. She didn’t know what half the items in there were, butshe had some guesses. And her guess was that Anthony knew exactly how to use them.
Chapter Eleven
Anthony sat withhis back to the china cupboard, not wishing to look at it, and sipped his whisky. Pemberton was already in his cups and Buswick was well on his way there. Leighhall, he noticed, drank very little.
The dinner had been a far more normal affair than he’d expected, differing from a typical evening in London only by the ladies’ dress and the few ribald comments and innuendos that peppered the conversation. What was very different was the jovial mood and relaxed camaraderie. That did give him pause. Was that due to the status of the ladies? Yet they still left the gentlemen to their drinks while they gathered in the parlor as usual.
“I say, young Bellamore, wherever did you find that pretty little morsel, Daguette? She’s a special one, that one.” Rothbury turned to the others. “I do believe she invited me to bed in French.”
Pemberton guffawed. “Are you sure she didn’t invite you to the kitchen?”
Not to be outdone, Buswick winked at Rothbury. “Your French is as bad as your breath, my man. She clearly invited you to a horse race, which, based upon your skills, I have no doubt you’d lose.”
Seeing as no one actually expected an answer of him, Anthony took another sip of his drink, content to let the jovial mood continue.
“My question, Pemberton, is where did you find Alice? On the docks?” Leighhall’s interest seemed more than just casual.
“Not at all. I found her in a decent brothel near Mayfair.” Pemberton laughed. “She was so good and so willing to try anything, I just had to keep her.” He lowered his brows, trying to put on a serious face, but failed miserably. “She was a lady’s companion but found it far too boring.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Buswick lifted his almost empty glass. “Here’s to Alice—may she always be willing and wet.”
The men cheered, and Pemberton basked in the glow of their admiration.
Leighhall set his glass down without taking a sip. “You always find the best whores. I really must meet up with you in Town next Season.”
“The more the merrier, Leighhall.” Pemberton grinned crookedly. “We old men need all the experiments we can get before we leave this earth. How’s that Selene you have now?”
“She has the required physical attributes, but no imagination. I have Alberta for tomorrow. She’s far more inventive with her body and willing to do anything. If any of you want a go at her tomorrow afternoon, you’re welcome to her.”
Anthony gritted his teeth at Leighhall’s attitude. Yes, he understood the women were only mistresses, but the viscount made it sound as if they were dogs. No, less than dogs. The other men didn’t speak so.
Maybe he was just used to having Lissa about. She had so much intelligence and skill. He hadn’t even known how beautiful she was, or how alluring, until the day in Melton Village when she’d set about seducing him.
He found himself hard pressed to behave as he should. His only control was his respect for her, and also how much he cared for her wellbeing. On one hand, he wished to protect her from learning more than she already knew, and on the other, he wanted to teach her so much.
“I say, Bellamore, who will you have do the hunting tomorrow?” Buswick raised his brows.
“Do not the men hunt and the women stay here?”
Pemberton laughed loudly. “Really, Leighhall, did you not tell the man anything about this weekend?”
Leighhall shrugged. “Does it matter?”
Buswick lifted his glass to be refilled. “The hunt tomorrow is on foot. You can choose to be the hunter or the prey. Your Daguette will be the other.”
“But there is no cheating.” Leighhall said the words forcefully, making it clear they must play by his rules or not at all.
Anthony thought it best to learn more. “How does one cheat at hunting one’s partner?”
Rothbury was happy to explain. “If the two determine a hiding place ahead of time or if the prey leaves obvious signs they are in the vicinity, like a ribbon on a branch or a piece of lace on the ground.” He turned to Buswick. “Remember when Lord Archer thought himself clever by leaving lemon drops along his path so his mistress could find him, only to be bitten by ants?”
Buswick laughed. “I do. As I remember, she was far off his trail and didn’t know where he was until he started yelling. I’ve never seen a man so happy to pay the forfeit.”
