Page 13 of Surrender to Sin

Oh sweet heaven.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she mumbled, freeing him and stumbling across the parlor to slip on her chemise so she wasn’t so blasted naked.

“No need for apologies. In fact, based on our undeniable chemistry, I am quite convinced the time has come to go public and create that scandal…but perhaps not so mild? What do you think?”

Grace stared at him, torn. June first was only ten days away, so the sooner they damaged her reputation, the better. But oh, the temptation to ignore the harsh reality of arranged marriages and filial duty, and instead stay cocooned and happy within the sanctuary that was Fallen. “Are you sure I’m ready?”

“Absolutely. Any more ready and we both might combust. I was mulling over the best time and location, and believe tomorrow night at Vauxhall Gardens would suit our purposes admirably. We could have supper, listen to the orchestras, watch the fireworks…and create some of our own,” he finished with a wicked grin.

“There will no doubt be a lot of people.”

He nodded. “Thousands. From all levels of society. If we are shockingly indiscreet in front of some ton stalwarts then plead with them to keep our affair secret, the news will cross London in an hour at most.”

“That slow?” said Grace with a reluctant laugh. “I’m disappointed.”

Sin’s amber gaze kindled, almost a caress in itself. “Perhaps I could offer a sweetener then. Would you care for a tour of Fallen before we venture out together?”

Oh.

“I would like that very much,” she replied, aiming for a casual tone rather than intensely curious and debutante-giddy. “Although my maid Nell is going to be heartbroken when I tell her the pirate fantasy room is just a rumor made up by feeble-brained gossips.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Indeed. Just a rumor.”

Grace’s jaw dropped. “Wait a minute. Are you saying—”

“I’m saying you need to return tomorrow night, eight o’clock sharp. Diaz will fetch you a numbered mask to wear before you leave. And sweetheart…”

“Yes?”

“Do not be late. Next time I won’t be so…forgiving.”

She nodded. “As you wish.”

Chapter Four

Tossing the latest batch of threatening notes into the flames dancing in his parlor fireplace, Sin watched them burn with a grim smile. A saner, more intelligent man might have taken the hint and stopped his activities long ago, but adding to the harem was too satisfying. Just a few weeks ago, he’d reunited sisters after three years forced separation. The copious tears, the incredulous joy as elder cradled younger and crooned guarantees of warmth and food and safety, ensured no bawd, pimp, or rabid clergyman would stop him. Not while he had guineas to spend, and God knew he had mountains of those.

“Sin?” said Devil, poking his head around the door. “Hurry up, Vice is asking for your opinion on two members. Seems an heir and spare both have a problem with Scots and maids who say no.”

He scowled at Devil from across the room. “Who is the heir?”

“Dunbar.”

“Cancel both memberships immediately, and their father’s, too, no refund. Vice’s word is law on the floor, no questions asked. And for God’s sake, Dev, take a bath and shave. You have ink on your nose. Also, comb your damned hair and buy some new cravats, you look like you crawled out from under a bridge.”

“I do?” said Devil, blinking as he pushed gold-rimmed spectacles higher up his nose with one finger. “Damnation. Eliza always used to remind—”

Sin sighed as his friend’s words abruptly halted. “When are you going to stop being such a bloody numbskull and fetch your wife from the country? It’s painfully obvious you adore her, even if she is human rather than guinea or promissory note.”

“On the contrary,” said Devil, his face and tone now frigid. “I do not. She was a mistake I cannot rectify, and her last letter indicates contentment, so mind your own business. Oh, and by the by, your countess has just arrived.”

“She’s not my countess,” he replied, forcing himself to stroll rather than sprint toward the door.

Devil snorted. “The harem swears differently.”

“Christ Almighty. Is there no loyalty in the world anymore?”

“Well, I do pay their wages and expenses. Plus, they inform me I am so kind and adorable that the hordes who claim I’m as black-hearted as my namesake must never have met me. I think it is the spectacles and ink spots.”