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Lucan could not identify with the pain she felt at society’s shunning. Society’s opinion had never mattered much to him. But it certainly had mattered to his sister. Marissa’s many letters of how society had treated her when it had been revealed she was Calydon’s mistress had been filled with pain and grief. Friends had stopped calling on her, her husband had beaten her and turned her away, cutting off her allowance. She’d had no one, and those letters reached him months after she had needed him. That familiar feeling of rage started to creep over him and with cold determination he pushed those memories away.
The play started and after a few minutes he found himself immersed in the raw talent of the people below. He chuckled at the irony, as the play itself revealed to be one of revenge and lost love. How apt. He was able, for almost an hour, to leave the cares of the world behind and relax into a world of greasepaint and artifice.
The lights came on as the interval was announced. Laughter and noises danced on the air. Lady Ralston announced she was visiting the ladies’ withdrawing room, and departed after giving her charge a stern look. He raised his brow at the wink he saw Constance gave her.
She glanced at him, smiling. “Charlotte fears for my virtue. I cannot imagine what she believes could happen here in a sea of people.”
He glanced around the box, and the drawn curtains. He could imagine a lot. Especially while the play was in progress. The complete darkness was an unbearable temptation.
She gave him an expectant look. “Is it not wonderful, Lucan? I am not sure where is more splendid, here or the Royal Italian Opera at Covent Garden. They are my two favorite places to visit. I love the arts, music, acting. I insist you visit both.”
“I certainty will, if you will grace me with your presence when I do.”
Her eyes glowed with obvious delight. “I have been wondering, Lucan… What is it that you do for simple enjoyment?”
He assessed the curiosity on her face. “I run a club.”
“The note you had delivered to me…the seal had the design of a pair of lips kissing an apple. I assume that is not the Mondvale seal.”
She vibrated with excitement, and he found once again he wanted to share something of himself with her.
“No, it was not. It was the seal of my club, Decadence, meant to represent the temptations to be had upon entrance.”
“What kind of temptations?”
“Vices you wouldn’t understand.”
“You would be surprised what I can understand, Your Grace,” she drawled.
He chuckled, then relented. “I give our patrons the opportunity to pursue a life of extravagant indulgence without condemnation.”
“Tell me more,” she prompted relaxing in her chair. Noting his hesitation no doubt, she touched his arm. “If you fear for my sensibilities, I will happily hear something else about you.”
She waited with an air of expectation, and Lucan was confounded as to what to say. She was too damn innocent. He had spent years in filth, in poverty, among prostitutes and swindlers. A world she could not imagine. He had gotten his first job at fourteen in the dock yards after his parents’ untimely death in a carriage accident, having the responsibility of caring for Marissa who had been one year younger. While she lived in the country, he had been working more jobs than he could remember in London, sending money back for her upkeep. By the time he had reached nineteen, his aunt had tracked him down and offered him an opportunity at life. By twenty he invested in a shipping venture, which had proven to be more than lucrative, and he had set sails away from England determined to make something of his life for his family.
He found himself wanting Constance to know about him, but damn if he knew what he could safely disclose. “There is not much to tell. My business interests are numerous. I have traveled extensively—the Orient, India, and the Americas.”
She scrunched her face in disappointment. “Is that all you have to offer?”
“I fear so,” he said drolly.
“I do not believe you,” she countered, a teasing expression on her face. “Whispers of your licentiousness are vaunted.”
“I had not thought you a young lady who would believe every piece of gossip uttered.”
She drew in a sharp breathed and flushed. “Forgive me.”
He shook his head. “No, that was uncalled for. It is not every day I am reminded of my notoriety so artlessly.”
She gave him a tentative smile. “Everyone speaks about you and your club, and I fear I was in a position to overhear a few times. It all sounds grand and mysterious. I heard how exclusive membership is and that everyone has a unique ring designed for them that gives them entrance.”
She had indeed heard a lot.
“I think I would like to visit one day. I am sure the opulence and the splendor I have heard spoken about in hushed whispers are true.”
Lucan laughed. “I assure you if an innocent like you were to visit, you would find yourself without any virtue before the night finished.”
Wariness flared in her eyes, and he thought it was about time he saw it. The little minx was too reckless. Then her lovely brow arched and the caution melted away. “I believe you are not as unprincipled as you would have me believe. I am confident you would not allow anyone to take such advantage of me.”
He stared at her in amazement. “I am the one you would be in danger of, Lady Constance, not any of my patrons.”
“Oh!”
Instead of the blush he had expected, he got a slow smile that dazzled him.
“Then I positively must visit one day, in secret of course.”
He wondered fleetingly if he had heard correctly. But from the challenging way she stared at him, he knew she had really said such words.
“As you are without a ring, and I assure you, it would be impossible for you to obtain one, I must give you the secret code.”
As expected, she straightened. “There is a secret code to gain entrance? I have not heard of this, and I now believe you are simply jesting with me.”
Lucan smiled at her excitement. “There is such a code. Once you mention it, it gives you carte blanche. Only five people know that word, my lady.”
She grinned in apparent scandalized delight. The way he watched for the laughter to shine in her eyes and the curve of her lips was damnably irritating.
“And what token must I give to learn this code?” she asked archly.
His gaze dipped to her lips, which she was biting worriedly between her teeth.
“Are you thinking of kissing me, Lucan?” she blurted.
He snapped his gaze to meet her curious stare. “No,” he answered tersely.
“You have been looking at my lips,” she pointed out. “And I would happily surrender a kiss for the secret code, not that I will ever be able to use it.”
As if on cue, his gaze dropped back to her lips, and he had to forcibly glance away from their beckoning lushness. Lucan smiled at the humor dancing in her eyes. The minx was teasing him. What was it about her that was so enticing?
