Page 12 of A Duke's Lustful Portrait
Sebastian’s ears pricked up like a dog’s. He hadn’t realized there would be tasks, and all this ceremony seemed a bit far-fetched as well. He supposed it made sense, though. Men like Sinclair and his friends would relish the opportunity to display both their wealth and prowess and what better way than with pomp and ritual? It had a cult-like feel to it, and Sebastian shifted uncomfortably.
Remember why you are here.
He watched as Sinclair strode around the room, his footsteps silent on the thick carpet. He wore a proud grin, and his arm gestures were wide, grand. He loved every second of this.
“Now, if all our nominees could please remove your masks.”
Sebastian looked around uncertainly, but the others all removed their masks as asked. Sinclair walked down the line of them, snipping a lock of each man’s hair. When he got to the end, he returned to the centre of the room, holding the hair high in the air.
“This is our safeguard,” he explained. “We have invited you here from the goodness of our hearts, trusting that you will keep our secret, even if you are not invited to become a full member. Now, we have all seen your faces, and here, I have a lock of your hair. If you should say anything to anyone, we can prove you were here, eager to join us.”
Sebastian had to admit he was impressed. The Lord’s Society had thought of everything. It was no wonder it was such a well-kept secret in a city that ran on gossip and conjecture.
“Those who do not make it are, of course, welcome to enjoy the rest of the party, but then you will be asked to leave and not be told of any further events. Those who stay, well …” he grinned at them. “You’ve got an excellent few years ahead of you! Now, to our first selection. Lord Campbell, as the oldest of our founding members, who would you like to join the Lord’s Society this season?”
Edward Sinclair took his seat as Lord Campbell got up. He was indeed an old man—much older than Sinclair. His body had begun to waste away, and he stooped, a hand to his back as if to hold himself up. He wore a leery sneer as he looked over the nominees one by one.
“The man I have selected is one I know will enjoy the society in the spirit it was designed for—enjoyment, freedom, and pleasures of the flesh!”
The room erupted into laughter. Even Sebastian struggled to keep the smirk from his face. The atmosphere was contagious, even if he didn’t like the concept.
“I select Mr. Joseph Campbell into our midst,” he said, nodding over to a young man who looked to have no more than eight-and-ten years. Sebastian could see the eager lustfulness of a young man—a boy, really.
“Come to the centre, please, Joseph,” Lord Campbell said, urging the boy into the middle.
The boy got up uncertainly, taking small steps into the middle. He looked around as if he wasn’t sure he should be there, but Sebastian knew that would soon be drummed out of him. Members of the Lord’s Society carried themselves with confidence. They knew where they belonged, and that was at the very top.
“Kneel before me.”
Joseph Campbell did as he was asked, allowing his green and silver mask to drop from his fingers to his feet. Sebastian noted the resemblance between the boy and the old man.
Grandson, perhaps?
He wondered how many of the men in the room were related. Was it rare that an outsider got in? If so, he was even luckier than he realized. He would soon have the opportunity to infiltrate the group and bring them down alongside the monster that was Edward Sinclair.
And my mother’s memory can be laid to rest at last.
The old man poured from the jug, his hand shaking so badly that the wine spilled on the table. He managed to get at least some in the chalice, though.
“Do you swear to uphold the Lord’s Society rules and regulations?” the old man asked. The boy had his head bent as if in prayer.
“I do,” he said.
“And do you swear to maintain the secret?”
“I do.”
“And do you swear to maintain all the secrets of all the members? Including their presence as well as any activity they partake in?”
“I do.”
“Do you pledge yourself, entirely and completely, to the Lord’s Society? To live with the society in your heart, to carry us with you and protect us, even when it damages yourself?”
Joseph Campbell looked up, seeming to hesitate for a second, before saying, “I do, My Lord.”
“And do you, Joseph Campbell of Mayfair, understand the consequences if you do not uphold the promises you have made today?”
“I-I do, My Lord.”
