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Resting the glass down, Gabriel traced the rim with his finger. David was right, he had to put his mind where it should be. “I think I need to go to Chapel.”
Slowly, David’s smile grew. “Ah yes, postulate yourself, Williams; I’m sure thenunswill take care of you.”
“Oh, they will,” Gabriel replied while thinking of the private, exclusive house of cyprians who knew every way to make a man feel all sorts of sensual pleasure in existence. “Make me an appointment, will you? Madame Chablis seems to love you.”
“Consider it done,” David nodded. “We don’t want you falling into that fallacy called love, do we?”
“No,” Gabriel replied, “No, we do not. Love, marriage, exclusiveness, and all the bag of moonshine they sell these ladies are not for men like us.”
“That is what I want to hear,” David grinned. “Now, let’s get going, hm?”
CHAPTER6
Rule Six: Never Buy the Lady Gifts
Gifts are token of affection, and rakes use seduction, not affection.
—Gabriel Williams
A Rake’s Rules
Almost three days—wasted. I came here to forget my troubles, not to have them stop me from performing.
Reclining on a red plush sofa with his banyan open at the neck, Gabriel took a sip of his champagne the Madame had graciously given with his stay—but it felt like cut rate blue ruin in his mouth.
He looked over at the woman in the round bed just a few feet away. Angel was favored by the gentlemen who patronized the St James’s establishment because of her pure unblemished pale skin, her delicate, elfin features, and her seductive wiles.
From what he knew, she was illegitimate daughter of a Duke born from a courtesan but had pried herself out of the muck to become a governess. Her trip back to the stews had come on the back of falling in love with a Marquess after he had used her and shamed her, so she had taken up the trade herself.
For three days, ever since his sudden sequester from London, he had found himself with her, trying—and failing—to not think of Anastasia.
Anastasia…
Every time he tried to entice himself to lay with Angel—he’d faltered because Ana’s wide eyes and guiltless face bloomed right before him, and soon after, a swath of guilt and self-loathing burned in his gut.
He knew he would see her soon; he’d known from the moment he’d stepped foot into the pleasure house three nights ago, there was no turning back. His demons had been roused; they had clawed and clamored for satisfaction, for the satiation of their voracious appetites. Noingenuecould have satiated them, yet—satisfaction was far from coming.
Soft arms laced around his neck and plump lips rested themselves on his ear. “Shall we try again, Your Grace?”
Glancing at the dipping sun, Gabriel shook his head, knowing any effort on his part would be useless. “I should be going.”
“We still have an hour; please don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth,Your Grace.You’ll have a wife, soon. Enjoy me in the meantime. That’s what I’m here for.”
“A wife,” he snorted. “Do me a favor by never uttering that word in my presence.”
She kissed under his ear. “So, that lovely ingénue you are engaged with is not enough for you?”
“She is not mine at all,” Gabriel said while levering himself from the couch and undoing his robe. He dressed in his buff trousers with a starched shirt that had been carefully folded over a chair and a plain blue waistcoat. “And how do you know of that?”
Naked but unashamed, Angel sashayed over to the cabinet of spirits, and poured a glass of champagne then turned. “We’re courtesans, Your Grace; we don’t live under rocks or have cotton plugged into our ears.”
“Well do not listen to it anymore,” Gabriel replied while donning his jacket. “After this façade is finished, you’ll be seeing more of me.”
Grasping his hat, he tucked it under his arm then reached out to grasp Angel’s face, stroking her chin, “I hope you’re not too tired, sweetling; I am sure you’ll have more to do after I leave.”
“After three days, I am utterly fatigued,” she smiled coyly. “Your, temerity, Your Grace, is unquestionable.”
He laughed. “Charm is certainly one of your gifts.Au revoir mademoiselle,” he bowed.
