Authors: Lavinia Kent
She could see his mind working, trying to decide if she spoke the truth, trying to decide if trust lay between them as it once had. The answer to that was not clear even to her. Part of her thought to flee as soon as possible—and the other? The other wished to know what he would say, wished to know how far he was willing to go. She’d long ago given up fairy stories of knights and damsels, but her heart still longed for such an ending.
He lifted her wrist until their arms formed a bridge between them. His gaze held hers as he sought something in her face. Then with a nod he released her, their wrists both falling to their sides.
Should she turn and flee? The question hovered, but she made no movement. She could claim it was because he still stood between her and the great house, but that was not the truth. He would let her pass. Why she was so certain was not clear, and yet she was. He would let her pass, but her feet did not move.
Her eyes traced the path of white pebbles that led from the edge of the trees, through a bower of roses, and then up to the terrace that edged the glass doors to the ballroom. It would be so easy. There was nothing stopping her—and yet her feet still did not move.
Fairy stories.
The thought moved through her mind, once and then again. Fairy stories. A quest. But that would be too simple. It must be a quest that could not only never be completed, it must be a quest that could never even be started. She would force him to back away, to realize how unsuited they were.
Taking a step forward, closer to him, she paused. “You want me to tell you how to win me? Is that what you want?”
“You see yourself as a prize, do you?”
“No, I believe it is you who sees me as a prize. I merely see myself as a woman who enjoys her freedom and has no desire to tie herself to a boring, staid man.”
His eyebrows rose at her words and his lips thinned. He clearly believed her words no more than she did, but he said nothing. His gaze dropped to her feet and he watched as she moved over the scant space between them, measuring.
“I need you to prove to me that I can trust you. And also to prove to me that you will not keep me from doing what I want, that you will let me have adventures even if you do not approve of them.” Her heart felt as if it would leap from her chest.
“How can I possibly do that? Do you want me to arrange for you to race a curricle to Richmond, or perhaps you feel the need to gamble away your dowry? Or is it as simple as letting you twirl as fast as you can for hours on end?” He did not sound pleased.
Why was his list so similar to the list she had thought of herself a mere hour or so ago? “No, I have a specific task in mind. One that should not prove hard, if you should choose to pursue it.” She smiled up at him, doing her utmost to look the innocent young lady that she still was in truth.
“What?” He was not persuaded of her innocence; if anything he seemed more doubtful.
“It’s really very simple. I had a dear friend who was forced to leave London before she could fulfill all the promises she made me. She understood my natural curiosity and, being a married woman, was in a position to help me. Now that she is gone I find myself at a loss. She left me with a desire to explore that I cannot fulfill on my own—a desire that, if I am honest, and it is difficult to be, this evening has only increased.”
Duldon swallowed. He clearly did not like where this was heading. “You think that I can help you learn the same things as a married woman?”
She let her smile grow, trying to pretend a sophistication she did not feel. He would never agree if he knew how timidly she shivered inside. “Given the way that you kiss, I imagine that you could teach me whatever you chose—assuming that I wanted the lesson—but I don’t require you to teach me anything. I merely want you to take me to a couple of the places my friend promised to, places she thought I would truly enjoy. I cannot do much by myself, but with your help I am sure I could accomplish at least a couple of the tasks.”
“This does not sound too difficult,” Duldon said, but she could hear the doubt in his voice. He knew there was a catch. “Tell me, who is this mysterious friend?”
“Oh, a most wonderful lady, the Countess Ormande. You must have met her.” Ignoring the sudden clouding of Duldon’s eyes, she continued. “And the first thing she promised to do was to take me to Madame Rouge’s Club for Gentlemen of Taste. Can you imagine anything more exciting than sneaking into a gentleman’s club? I am not sure how she planned to accomplish it, but I am sure you will think of something.”
Chapter Five
How had he ended up here? Duldon stared across the street at the infamous red door to Madame Rouge’s. And how had Bliss ended up attired in much too tight breeches? His gaze lingered on her ass, peeking out beneath her coat. He knew the answer to both questions, but wished he did not. His eyes slipped closed as he said a silent prayer. He needed to learn to be firmer with her. He was not a man who gave in. He always proceeded the way he thought proper, the way he believed.
She was probably correct that he was not a husband who would let her have her way. Actually there was no “probably” about it.
So why was he here?
He was not a man who ended up at a brothel with a proper young lady who thought she looked like a boy just because she put on breeches. No man, ever, would look at Bliss’s ass in that garment and think she was a boy. That ass was all woman, full and curved and begging to be squeezed—or spanked. He put that thought away. He wanted her for his wife and a wife must be treated with some respect. He struggled with the thought. Hell, if he wasn’t trying to respect her he would have just married her years ago, before he’d brought his demons under control, before he’d been prepared to be the man she needed.
“When do we go in? I didn’t ask you to bring me just so that I could stand across the street in the shadows.” Bliss sounded petulant.
He was acting against his better judgment and she whined?
Patience. From the day they’d met she’d required patience, but she had always been worth it, would always be worth it. All it took was one of her sweet smiles and…and he ended up with her at a brothel pretending she looked like a boy.
“Can’t we go now?”
Of course, when she wasn’t smiling, sometimes he had to wonder. He ached to take her over his knee and teach her exactly how she should act toward him. He had to stop thinking that way. Yes, she had displayed a certain curiosity, it was why they were here, but that was a very long way from thinking that she’d enjoy his type of play. If only those breeches weren’t quite so tight.
The thought brought a smile to his mouth, and not just for the usual reasons. Bliss would never act as she was supposed to. He might long to discipline her, to teach her that she didn’t have to fight the world to get what she wanted, but he knew it was a losing proposition. Bliss would always be Bliss. It was what drew him to her, made him want to protect her from the world—and from himself. It was why he’d ignored her for years, while keeping all the other young fools who paid too much attention to her away. Johnston, Temple, Blankmore, Wilson—he’d made sure none of them had a chance with Bliss. She was his.
“If you aren’t willing to take me, I will go myself. You should have told me earlier if you didn’t want to go in. I can go by myself. Nobody will know I am not a boy. I’ll just pretend that I am there for the first time. That will explain both my youth and why nobody has ever seen me before.”
Could she really believe she looked like a boy? Or any type of male? It was laughable and he kept waiting for the smile that would let him know it was all a joke—the smile that didn’t seem to be coming. “It is not your being seen that I am worried about. I don’t know if you’ve noticed who is walking through that red door, but I’d wager that three of the most recent patrons to enter have danced with you in the last year. Do you really think that they won’t recognize you because they can see your legs?” Well, perhaps they would be too busy looking at her legs to notice her face.
“I bound my breasts as well. Most of the men I dance with spend their time gazing at my bosom. If there aren’t breasts to look at and I am dressed as lad, why would they even think to look at me? Why would any man look twice at a boy?”
Now that was a question he was not ready to answer. Given her confusion when he mentioned kissing boys he doubted she had any idea of the things two men could do together. Things that definitely happened at Madame Rouge’s.
“Bliss, you will have to trust me,” he said.
“Why? Isn’t what this whole thing is about, my not trusting you?”
The woman always had a why. “If you are not going to even try to trust me then you clearly did not need me to come at all. Perhaps I should leave. As you are such a convincing young gentleman, I am sure you will have no problem on your own.” There was not a chance he would leave her, but she might not realize that.
Indecision swept across her face. He’d always thought she saw the world clearly, but for whatever reason that was not the case now. “It is best that you stay,” she said after a moment. “I do not know how to go about this, and from the whispers I’ve heard most boys have a brother or father show them the way the first time. Lady Ormande was willing to take me, but she had been there many times. She thought every woman should visit a time or two to learn about life. She said she was looking forward to introducing me to everything the club had to offer.”
Duldon was not even going to think about what the Countess had meant by that remark and he could not help but wonder what doors Bliss had been listening at. “I will stay, but only if you trust me and do as I say.”
“Fine.” She was not pleased, although he did not miss the hint of a smile that played about her lips. She did like to think she’d won.
“First”—he swung the cloak off his shoulders and held it out—“put this on.”
“I was wondering why you were wearing a cloak. It is a warm evening.”
“I was prepared for just this difficulty. Now put it on.”
“But I like how I look as a young man.” The lower lip came out.
“Put it on.” He filled his voice with command.
Her breath caught and she stared at him. With a slight tremble to her fingers she reached out and took the cloak, draping it about her shoulders.
His prick jumped at her obedience. He refused to consider all that might mean. “Wrap it tight.”
“It is too warm.”
This time he did not even need to use words; he let the glare of his eyes say it all.
She wrapped herself, pulling the coat closed with only the slightest glare. Her hands shook, and clearly not with fear.
That greatly improved the situation, but she was still quite recognizable, perhaps more so. Her ass in tight breeches had definitely been a distraction that might have kept some men from staring at her face. He could take care of that, however. Reaching into his coat’s pocket he pulled out a blue satin half-mask, the ribbon ties trailing at its sides. He held it out.
“You can’t expect me to wear that. I’ll draw every eye in the place.”
Again he said nothing.
“Blast, blast, and blast,” she mumbled under her breath as she reached out and took the mask. “I really do need to work on more curses.”
He wasn’t quite sure he’d heard the last, but given that this was Bliss, he probably had. “There will, with some likelihood, be several others in masks. Many wish to hide their identity at Madame Rouge’s. It is part of the appeal.”
“You will have to tie it for me.” She held it over her face and turned her back to him. “And be careful of my hair, nobody will think me a boy if it falls about my shoulders. I spent an hour trying to wrap it under so that it would look shorter. I do wish it were not so heavy.” As soon as the mask was tied, she turned about and looked at him through the eyeholes. “And why would anyone wear a mask at a gentleman’s club? Swanston always said that all that happened in them was that men drank port, read the papers, played cards, and gossiped like women. I never did understand why Lady Ormande thought it was so important I go, but I did trust her opinion. I am not even sure how she managed to visit so often. I thought these places did not allow women.”
That stopped him. Bliss didn’t know what Madame Rouge’s was? She truly thought it was a gentleman’s club. He should just have taken her to White’s or Boodle’s. She probably would not have known the difference. Although—and he smiled at the thought—it would have been a good deal harder to sneak her into White’s than into Ruby’s. Hell, he didn’t have to sneak her into Ruby’s, he only had to guard her identity. He let his gaze wander over her full lips. Had it been wishful thinking on his part to believe she wanted to visit Ruby’s? He’d hoped she was curious about sexual matters, but he’d clearly jumped ahead a mile or two. Her response to watching Lord Banks and then their kiss had placed some very definite thoughts in his mind.
Maybe if she realized what Ruby’s was he’d be free of this ridiculous endeavor—which is what he should want. He fought to suppress his desire to see her face again flooded with arousal. “Madame Rouge’s is not exactly a gentleman’s club.”
“It’s not? That is the name, isn’t it? Madame Rouge’s Club for Gentlemen of Taste? If it’s not a gentleman’s club why would the Countess have thought it would be fun? I mean, I can gain entrance on my own to just about any place in Town. The only thing that made this seem fun was thinking that women were not allowed. The Countess knew I was looking for adventure and to fulfill my curiosity. Why would she suggest a place that did not fulfill those needs? Is this a trick on your part, a way to get out of our arrangement? You are not making me trust you.”
Duldon paused, seeking the right words. Countess Ormande had been a dangerous woman before she’d been forcibly sent to Scotland with her husband. The Countess had actually gone as far as to abduct Louisa, Bliss’s sister-in-law. It was a wonder that Bliss had never found out the truth of her friend. It would be tempting to tell her, but the story was sordid and contained secrets that were not his to share. He would stick to the simple facts that needed to be addressed—and then perhaps Bliss would decide that she did not need to enter Madame Rouge’s. “The club is a brothel. It caters to those with unusual tastes.”