Page 6 of Sloth: The Fallen Earl
Lord Dynevor flicked a gaze over Cressida’s modest pink and white gown. One of the last four garments she’d retained from her first Season, it’d begun showing signs of its age some five years ago.
Now, the earl examined her in a way that indicated he’d spotted poverty upon her person. “Lady Aurum, if yer here because you need a portion of coins that’ll come from the paying customers…”
Cressida arched on the balls of her feet. “Is that an option some ladies have?” she asked, breathless with hope.
The suspicion in his eyes deepened. “Aye. That along with an offer of employment if yer in need.”
Employment? Was that really much of a choice? Being sold by her brother, where she’d have just one man she’d be bound to bed, or taking on the work of a Cyprian, where she’d have dozens and dozens of lovers.
Either way, only one of the options afforded her a way to get Trudy out from under Stanley’s cruel thumb.
The earl’s mouth tightened. “I don’t let women who are anything but certain be part of my club, Lady Aurum.”
Lord Dynevor looked over her shoulder.
“I want to be here, my lord!” This time the half-truth flew from her lips, and it came easily. “I am here of my own choice.”
Even with that assurance given, the earl went on to study Cressida for an interminable amount of time. She estimated him to be a year or two younger but at least older than twenty. The gelid glint in his dark eyes gave him the appearance of a man two to three decades his senior.
Sweat prickled at her nape and fear sapped the moisture from her mouth. “I’m just nervous as I’ve never visited a clubsuch as yours or took part in such wicked activities.” Desperate, she gripped him by his lapels. “But I want to be here,” she repeated, a fresh wave of want washing through her and turning her breathless exhalation into another sultry moan.
It also leant Cressida a sincerity that divested Dynevor of any reservations he might have had, ensuring her ability to save Trudy.
Lord Dynevor glanced down at where her fingers still held him. “If it weren’t my own club, Oi’d be of a mind to bid on ye myself.”
Embarrassed, Cressida snatched her hand back.
A cold, cynical but sagacious grin graced his lips. “You’re phrase to cease is ‘Venus Forbids.’ Following the auction, you will be escorted to private chambers. Behind the French screen painted with Jupiter and Juno, you will find a doorway. If you wish to bow out, you are free to leave through that door. You will face no consequences. There are numerous ladies who’ve asked for the opportunity to join this auction, and there are others standing by to take your place.”
Again, Cressida would be freed from whatever deal Stanley and Lady Marianne struck, but at the ultimate cost, one that Cressida wouldn’t pay, but Trudy would.
“A guard will be waiting at the bottom of the stairs,” the earl was saying.
Cressida struggled to attend him. All the most forbidden parts of her body tingled. Her blood and every nerve in her body was tangled up with a desire she’d learned about from books and discussions at the Mismatch Society meetings. She’d only truly felt the like that one time during her bath. She wanted to claw the clothes off her body.
“The only words you must speak to the guard is a call for a conveyance and your destination, Lady Aurum. You will be brought by way of one my carriages to whichever destination youdesire. Your presence here will not be spoken of. It will be as if you never stepped through the doors of The Devil’s Den.”
The Devil’s Den. What an apt name for an unholy, hedonistic club such as Lord Dynevor’s.
“Do you have all that?” he asked, peering closely at her face.
She managed a nod. At the very least, she’d heard enough to know the decision whether to proceed this night rested with her, and she had a way out of this hell.
“Thank you, my lord,” Cressida murmured, unsure how her voice should emerge so strong when she felt so very small.
“What are the words if you wish to stop, Lady Aurum?”
“Venus Forbids,” she said, hardly recognizing the sultry voice as her own.
There was absolutely no doubt that he allowed ladies who truly wanted to be part of the perverted games he spoke of to leave. How many others consented, like Cressida, but did so without any real choice?
If she weren’t fighting the urge to moan like an animal with the aching need that now consumed her, she’d have cried at the numerous attempts he gave Cressida to escape her situation. As it stood, everything within Cressida now tunneled on the desperate ache at her core.
His inky black lashes dipped, and his gaze lingered long on her mouth.
He is going to kiss me…
Even as her heated body moved of its own volition and strained towards him, she wanted to cry; her mind screamed out a reminder that this isn’t what she’d wanted of her first embrace. She’d wanted to be loved, to have one gentleman who was true to her, who loved her, listened to her, and fought for her and against anyone who’d dare hurt her.
