AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Don’t you think I’m better off being a night creature? Who wants to look at this in broad daylight?”
“I never thought you were one for self-pity,” Benedick said scathingly.
Brandon’s mouth twisted in a parody of a smile. “Trust me, brother mine, I have been experimenting with all sorts of things that are new to me. ” He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I suppose you’re going to write mother and father and tell them I never went to Scotland. ”
“Why should I? They’ll only worry, and I know full well what a trial their concern can be. If they only visited in on you then you would be well served, but I expect they’d fuss over me, as well. So no, baby brother, I shan’t tell on you. Is that why you chose my house over the family manse in Bury Street? So no one would rat on you?”
Brandon’s smile was without humor. “You know me well. As I do you. There’s no way you’re going to allow me to catch a few more hours of sleep, is there?”
“Not likely. Where were you that you returned home so late?”
“None of your damned business,” Brandon said sweetly, and for a brief moment Benedick remembered wh
en that sweetness had been real. “I have friends. ”
“I expect you do. Anyone I know?”
“Doubtless. But you’re not invited. ”
“Not invited where?”
“None of your damned business. ”
“Are we going to keep going round and round?” Benedick demanded.
“As long as you keep asking me questions I have no intention of answering. Don’t worry—I’ll remove to a hotel while I find rooms…”
“Take a damper, Brandon,” Benedick said irritably. “You’ll stay here. In truth, I don’t give a damn what you do as long as you don’t interfere with my plans for the next fortnight. ”
“And what plans are those?”
“I plan to get engaged. And to indulge in all manner of acts of sexual gratification. ”
“Presumably not with the same female…and I trust you’re restricting yourself only to females?” There was an odd languor about Brandon, the faint teasing in the questions almost pro forma.
Benedick fought down his uneasiness and fixed his baby brother with a haughty glare. “My tastes are narrow in that regard. And I do not think the Honorable Miss Pennington will be the type to satisfy my rather urgent demands, do you?”
“She’s going to be your next wife?” Brandon laughed mirthlessly. “That shows a singular lack of imagination. Then again, if she’s going to die you’re probably better off picking someone as cold and judgmental as you are. She’ll do nicely. So if she’s not the one to satisfy your…er…sexual urgings, who is?”
“I rather thought I’d start with Violet Highstreet. If I can find her. I gather she left Mrs. Cadbury’s establishment. ” Benedick didn’t like the slow, wicked smile that crossed his younger brother’s ravaged face.
“Excellent choice,” Brandon purred. “I can give you her new direction. I expect she’d be more than happy to come to you this evening. And I’m afraid Mrs. Cadbury’s excellent house is no more. You’ll have to find some new source for your tame excesses. In the meantime, I’m going out. And don’t ask me where. ”
Benedick resisted the impulse to protest. His planned excesses felt far from tame. “My interest in your activities was simply a momentary lapse, baby brother. You may go to the devil any way you please. ”
Author: Anne Stuart
“Decent of you,” Brandon replied. “I intend to. ”
2
Six o’clock in the evening was not the most conventional time for sexual congress, but Benedick, Viscount Rohan, didn’t give a damn. Living in Somerset had required a certain amount of sexual circumspection on his part, and ever since his latest mistress had departed in a wounded huff, some six months before, he’d been depressingly celibate. He intended to take care of that matter immediately, and Violet Highstreet and her talented mouth would prove more than up to the task. Of all Mrs. Cadbury’s highflyers she was the one who specialized in that particular variation, one of many he was extremely fond of. She would take the edge off him, so to speak, and he would then enjoy himself more traditionally or perhaps head over to his club to discover who exactly was in town. At the moment, however, all he could think of was La Violette’s carmined lips enclosed about him.
If Emma Cadbury had closed her doors, he would have to find a new source of enthusiastic—and healthy—companions. The women of London fell into a number of categories, starting with the virtuous wives and widows, which were of no interest to him, followed by the virgins, who were only worth marrying and turning into virtuous wives and widows and nothing more.
Then there were the far from virtuous widows and married women who only wanted pleasure without accountability, his favorite breed of bed partner. Followed by courtesans and mistresses, highflyers living under the protection of a distant, beautiful abbess like Mrs. Cadbury, women whose establishments could range from crystal chandeliers to the best champagne. Or they could descend to the more depressing, staid households with a grim harridan overseeing the proceedings.
Then, of course, there were the many varieties of streetwalkers, all of whom he tended to avoid, rather than risk disease. But even among his limited categories he could find infinite choice, and he had every intention of sampling the spectrum.
