Page 5 of A Taste for the Peculiar

Hope rises in her chest. “You will?”

“We begin our lessons bright and early next week.” Lord Riften steps back to bow, passing close beside her when he exits the dance floor. “Dress for the heat.”

THREE

Pye

“You couldn’t have chosen an easier spot?” Avirin huffs. “I’ve already torn a hole in my gloves.”

“Apologies, dear lady.” With a theatrical bow, Pye guides her into the alcove by the hand. “I’ve prepared a picnic basket so you may regain your strength.”

A weathered stone bench sits long forgotten in the depths of the park. Bushes and trees grow wild here, but they provide the necessary shade from weather and prying eyes on the promenade.

Tossing her disheveled hair, Avirin reaches into her reticule. “Your payment, Lord Riften.”

Pye takes the coins in hand and shakes them like a pair of dice. “Is it not strange to continue using my title, given the lessons I am to provide you?”

Sweat glistens at the base of Avirin’s neck. She fans herself swiftly. “It is the proper way to refer to each other.” She repeats the words as if she has heard them before, but she looks unconvinced.

“If you insist on formalities, we should at least add a bit of flair.” Pye hums thoughtfully. “Perhaps ‘Lord of Luridness’ would do. ‘Lady of Ribaldry,’ ‘Lord of Misrule’…” He leans forward with a teasing smile. “Do any of those strike you?”

Avirin’s cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink beneath her scowl. “I believe ‘Lord of Botheration’ is most fitting.”

Pye’s smile grows. “And has the rumor mill begun to churn about our dance the other evening?”

The pink in her cheeks deepens. “I believe it has. My mother had a few questions for me on the carriage ride home, and she seemed pleased you were not in attendance at the following event.”

“And were you pleased?”

Avirin blinks, then swallows. “I — I am never pleased at those parties.”

Pye hides their smirk. A leaf clings to the unraveling curls of Avirin’s dark hair, and Pye delicately plucks it out. “We will have to be more tactful about our meetings. It will be important to maintain your reputation; the men whose eyes you aim to catch will certainly care about that.”

He extends the leaf toward her, twirling the stem absently. Avirin looks hesitant, as if he is making a far greater offering, and after a moment, she shakes her head.

Pye lets the leaf fall to the ground, and Avirin watches it spiral downward.

He steps closer. “For our first lesson…”

Avirin’s chest rises and falls beneath the bodice of her dress when Pye takes her gloved hand. If they move their fingers just so, they could brush the skin of her wrist through the tear in the fabric…

Instead, he presses his lips to her knuckles. “The art of flirtation.”

Avirin deflates. “Flirtation? I thought we would start with…”

Pye’s brow hikes.

Her flush spreads across her chest. “Something more…physical.”

Carefully, they release her. “Something like what?”

They watch her down the line of their nose, but she doesn’t quite meet their eyes. This close, her body is warm, radiating shame and uncertainty. Her fingers curl into her skirts, but no matter what she latches onto, she can’t seem to find an answer.

Once the silence stretches on, Pye steps back. “If you cannot speak the words, Lady Avirin, I cannot imagine you’re prepared for the act.”

“That’s not my —” She shakes her head in irritation. “Then how will I know how to please a husband?”

“Believe me…” He tugs his cravat loose. “The men you seek will enjoy themselves simply by being allowed to touch you. What we’re going to teach you is how to entice them, and how to find your own pleasure in it.”