Page 62 of From Duke Till Dawn
“Before you proceed,” Amina went on, “I must advise you of the rules of the house.” She held up a finger. “I am the only person within these walls permitted a name. Everyone else must keep their identities to themselves. Further,” she added, “no guest can do anything to anyone else without consent. Nothing is forced. Participation is always optional. This is a place of freedom and safety.”
“Of course, madam,” Alex answered as Cassandra said, “Yes, Amina.”
The manager’s face grew serious. “Those who violate the rules are told to leave and can never return again. Will you comply?”
Alex and Cassandra exchanged a quick look. “We will,” he replied for them both.
Amina’s smile returned. “Then I bid you enter. Please, indulge yourselves. No one is judged here.” She smoothed a hand down her gown. “If you will excuse me, I have business to attend to.” She disappeared down a hallway, melting into the shadows.
Alex glanced at Cassandra in silent question.Shall we go forward?
We shall,she said wordlessly, tilting her head.
With her still on his arm, they walked down the corridor, following the sounds of voices and music. The hallway opened up to a large chamber, not unlike a grand parlor, where guests in a wide variety of clothing gathered in small groups. There were women and men wearing the height of fashion and others less expensively dressed. Regardless of the cost of their garments, everyone wore masks, and they mingled freely amongst themselves, heedless of the difference in their social rank.
“Not quite the usual soiree,” Cassandra murmured.
“A little of the ordinary,” he noted, glancing toward the servants circulating with trays of wine and cake. Music continued to swirl, flowing through an open door that led to what appeared to be a ballroom, where guests danced. He’d been to wilder gatherings, particularly when thrown by Ellingsworth or Langdon.
“There’s more to this party than polite conversation and piquet.” She looked pointedly at a nearby couple. The woman openly stroked the man’s chest as his hand slipped inside the neckline of her bodice. More of the guests overtly touched each other: faces, bodies, as well as beneath their clothing.
In one of the corners, a woman gasped as she reclined on a sofa. A man’s head and shoulders disappeared beneath her skirts as he knelt before her.
Against the wall, three men stroked the front of each other’s breeches.
Groups of two or more were everywhere, kissing, touching. Blatantly. Unashamedly.
Now he could smell it—the mingled scents of wine, sweat, and sex. It hung thickly in the air, along with moans and whispers. He had been to small gatherings that consisted of wealthy men and courtesans, where ribald talk and unconcealed touches were encouraged. But nothing on this scale. No place where people of both sexes permitted themselves any and all pleasures.
Cassandra’s hand tightened on his arm. He tore his eyes from the scenes around him to watch her. Her mask concealed part of her face, but her nostrils flared, her lips parted. One of her hands fluttered at her throat.
She was aroused. And so was he.
His body was on fire, and his heartbeat pounded hard and steady.
What had he been thinking, bringing her here?
Pulling his gaze from Cassandra, he saw Amina across the chamber. She spoke with a tall, dark-haired man. Was it Langdon? The stranger had his friend’s height and ranginess. The unknown man also angled his body toward Amina, as if she absorbed his full attention and he wanted to shield her from other prospective suitors.
The man said something to Amina, causing her to tip her head back and laugh. It was a low, rich sound, full of sensual knowledge. One of the servants eased up beside Amina and whispered in her ear. She spoke quickly with the servant, then curtsied to the man and hurried off. An almost-palpable longing radiated out from her would-be swain as his shoulders sagged and his hands curled into frustrated fists.
It had to be Langdon. When Amina disappeared, he stared after her for a few moments before slowly ambling off. He hardly seemed to pay attention to his surroundings. A barely dressed woman intercepted him and smiled in invitation. He merely bowed before going on his way. Alone.
Curious. Very curious indeed, to see a duke’s heir so smitten by a woman who managed a place for clandestine erotic encounters. She was clearly of mixed blood, as well. Thetonwasn’t precisely known for its tolerance. Alex wished he could console Langdon, but he couldn’t speak of what he’d seen here tonight. He had to respect the Orchid Club’s tenets, as well as his friend’s privacy.
“We should keep moving,” he said. “Seems suspicious if we’re just standing here.”
“Herelookingis just as popular asdoing,” she remarked breathlessly. She nodded toward a lady standing not two feet from two other women lying on a chaise. The lady peered through a lorgnette, watching the women kissing and fondling each other as if she was attending the Royal Opera. The kissing women paid her no attention—an arrangement which seemed to suit both parties.
“But we should explore the rest of the club,” Cassandra added. “It’s always key to get a sense of the place before taking action.”
“Spoken like a strategist,” he observed. How was it that they could carry on a rational conversation, when not ten yards away, a woman sank to her knees in front of a man dressed like a shopkeeper?
He guided Cassandra into the next chamber, where guests danced the waltz with their bodies pressed tightly against one another. The music continued as if this was a typical assembly, and not one where a man fucked a woman up against a wall in full view of everyone.
“Difficult to think of strategy with...this,” Cassandra remarked, her gaze fixed on the couple having sex. She shook her head. “What a marvelous place London is—anything and everything is there for the taking.” She touched her lips.
The urge to put his fingers on her lips, to taste her mouth—to taste every part of her—roared through him. He’d crowd her against the wall, pin her wrists, savage her mouth. Run his hands up the long lines of her legs. Touch her.
