Darcy laughed. The sound escaped her freely, unrestrained. For a moment, she forgot herself entirely, pushing all caution from her thoughts, forgetting that she ought to behave with the ladylike restraint expected in the presence of an earl.
“Come,” the earl said after several minutes of watching the brilliant fireworks. “There is more yet to see.”
“Surely not,” Sarah exclaimed, a delighted laugh escaping her. “I cannot imagine what else there could be. This is already so absolutely wonderful!”
He guided them away from the throng gathered beneath the fireworks and along a side avenue, where the sounds of applause and lively exclamations grew stronger with each step. The path opened onto a broad clearing, ringed with lanterns, where a crowd had gathered in a loose circle. At its center, a rope had been stretched taut between two raised platforms. A tightrope walker moved upon it with astonishing grace, his steps measured and sure, his balance so precise it seemed almosteffortless. Below, an acrobat leaped and turned, his movements swift and fluid, drawing cries of delight and alarm from those who watched.
Sarah clutched Darcy’s arm.
“He will fall,” Sarah whispered, though she did not look away. “How can he twist himself so and go so high? He will surely fall and break his neck!”
“He will not,” Jane replied, though her own breath caught as the man paused mid-step and dipped precariously before righting himself.
Darcy leaned forward, her attention wholly captured. When the performer swayed again, her heart leaped into her throat. “Oh—!” she cried, her hand rising instinctively as though she might steady him from afar.
The crowd erupted in applause as he regained his balance on the rope and continued, undeterred. Darcy laughed then, the sound bright and breathless. She did not at first notice the earl watching her. It was only when the sensation settled upon her—subtle, yet unmistakable—that Darcy became aware of it. A quiet, steady attention seemed to rest upon her alone, a feeling she had come to recognize whenever she fell under his provocative regard at Aphrodite. A most peculiar thrill brushed over her skin and set her heart racing.
She boldly turned her head and found his gaze fixed upon her. There was something in Lord Raine’s expression she did not recognize. It was not the cool civility he had worn throughout the evening, nor the sharp amusement she had glimpsed before. It was more intent. As though he studied her with a purpose she could not quite discern.
Darcy arranged her features into what she hoped was a suitably curious expression. “You stare, my lord.”
“You possess the loveliest laugh I have ever heard,” he said. “I find myself quite arrested by it. I confess, it is… a novelty to me.”
Her heart faltered. Heat rose swiftly to her cheeks, her composure slipping in a way that felt both unfamiliar and entirely disconcerting. Darcy quickly turned her gaze away, though she was keenly aware of him still.
“Do not say such things, my lord,” she murmured, striving for lightness, though her voice lacked its usual steadiness. “You will make me quite vain.”
“And would that be such a failing?”
“I was not aware that self-conceit had ever been elevated to a virtue.”
“One ought to have one’s vanity indulged and flattered and quite enjoy such attentions. It makes for the most agreeable conversation… and interludes,” he said drily, his expression carrying a hint of mockery.
“I daresay the company you keep, my lord, finds such pursuits most agreeable. I cannot claim the same familiarity.”
A trace of boredom touched his features. “How singularly… tiresome.”
He thought her priggish. Darcy could not help but wonder what he might say or think if he ever discovered she was Red—a woman who had seen him with his cock in hand, stroking himself to pleasure.
As soon as the thought formed, Darcy knew with sudden certainty that the earl must never discover her identity. The awareness settled uneasily within her. His gaze, whenever it fell upon her, felt too searching, and though there was no suspicion in it, there was an attention that unsettled her all the same.
It made her wonder whether he might one day notice… to see something familiar in her speech, despite how carefully she kept her voice lowered and softened at the pleasure palace, or to recognize the curve of Red’s mouth as the very same as Darcy’s when she smiled. She would have to be careful. For somethingwithin her warned that if the truth were ever revealed, the consequences of her deception would not be easily borne.
CHAPTER 12
The corridors of Aphrodite thrummed with decadence, the air rich with the promise of debauchery. Soft laughter drifted through the gilded halls, low and indulgent, mingling with the murmur of intimate conversation and the distant strains of an orchestra. Candlelight flickered against polished surfaces and rich tapestries, casting everything in a golden glow that softened edges and invited indulgence. The air was warm, perfumed, faintly touched with something sweet and heady that lingered on the senses.
Darcy moved through it all with measured steps, her spine straight, her chin lifted, though she felt anything but untouched by the atmosphere. Her simple green gown marked her apart from the other women who passed her—ladies draped in silks that clung too closely, bodices cut daringly low, laughter spilling freely from painted lips.
Their glances were knowing, curious, and assessing. She felt their world press against her own, and found herself wondering what it might be like to inhabit it, if only for a moment—to indulge in pleasure with such freedom, unburdened by the fear of losing one’s reputation or the regard of society.
Why do I even long momentarily for this?
Darcy touched her cheek. The black-and-green silk mask shielded her identity, while the red wig completed the illusion of Miss Red. Yet it did little to guard her from the awareness that stirred beneath her skin, the knowledge of what this place was, and what it offered. And what it awakened. A curiosity that was decidedly reckless and dangerous. She drew a steadying breath and entered the private salon where Madame Rebecca awaited.
“Ah, there she is,” Rebecca declared, rising at once, her eyes alight with pleasure. “My darling Red, you grow more exquisite each time I see you.”
Darcy flushed and inclined her head politely. “Madam.”
