Page 18 of A Duke's Lustful Portrait
Sebastian raised his eyebrows at the man. “Isn’t that a little dangerous, given all our reputations being here?”
Pembry laughed hard and loud, throwing his head back. “There is a certain excitement in skirting danger now and then, though, isn’t there?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Sebastian replied, though he didn’t suppose any such thing.
Earl Pembry was an older man, though Sebastian doubted he was the same age as Edward Sinclair. As a founding member of the Lord’s Society, he would have a good amount of power—perhaps even second in command to Sinclair himself, though the founding members were, officially at least, equal.
The man’s stomach was swollen from too much rich food, and his nose red from far too much alcohol, but the old man’s eyes still sparkled with something akin to prurience. He had the energy of a man thirty years his junior, and he watched the dancers with a hunger Sebastian couldn’t understand.
“You are a very lucky man, Ravenswood,” he said, slapping Sebastian on the back. “You are still so young and virile. And, good Lord, you have so much time to enjoy yourself here at the society.”
Sebastian staggered forward a step, surprised by the earl’s touch. “And I look forward to every minute of it,” he replied, imitating Earl Pembry’s lewd tone.
He picked a cream-soaked strawberry from a passing footman and threw it into his mouth, watching as a dancer gyrated against a particularly delighted lord. It was the basest place he had ever seen, and while his body responded excitedly, his mind could see it for what it was. If anyone was to gyrate against him—and he dearly wished they would—it would be a woman he had fallen in love with.
It would Lady Arabella.
He frowned at his own thought, irritated that she had once again invaded his mind when she was quite unwelcome. He did not love her; such a notion was ridiculous. He barely knew her and had only spoken to her briefly, though he had watched her from across the room often enough, and in his dreams, she had caressed him until he had unravelled with pleasure.
Even tonight, he could barely pull his eyes from her. Installed in the corner of the room, he watched her eyes dart around the guests, her paintbrush quick in her fingers. It truly was a talent to behold, and he was honoured he had the opportunity to watch it. He wondered, too, what else she could do with those nimble hands. He had been correct—she was even more beautiful without her mask than he could ever have imagined.
Stop it!
He turned to Pembry in an attempt to stop his reeling mind. This could be his opportunity to interrogate someone with a little power within the society. He could find more information on Edward and what went on here.
“You are well settled in the Lord’s Society, then? I mean, I know you are a founding member, but I get the impression you are rather involved as well.”
Pembry laughed, slapping him on the back again. “Who wouldn’t want to be involved?” he asked. “But yes, I consider myself one of the more important members. I know you’re Sinclair’s boy, but you know you can always come to me if you need or want anything, don’t you, Ravenswood?”
Sinclair’s boy.The words warped in Sebastian’s mind, making him want to snarl at the earl. He was no one’s boy, least of all Sinclair’s. He appreciated the rest of Pembry’s sentiment, though, and it made him feel as if he was being accepted into the group. His ploy—his lies—had worked well thus far.
“Thank you, Pembry, that’s much appreciated. Of course, I extend the same sentiment. I obviously have little clout in this particular environment, but if ever an earl needs help from a duke in the outside world …”
He trailed off, allowing his meaning to drift to Pembry, a subtle reminder that in any other environment, Sebastian and not Pembry would have the upper hand. Pembry slapped him on the back for a third time, and Sebastian clenched his teeth.
“You’re getting into the spirit of the society already, I see,” he replied. He sighed, his contentment written across his features. “Ah, this is a good place, Ravenswood. I have a wife and daughter, you know? She is now on the hunt for a husband, of course.”
“Do you?” Sebastian turned to look at him, unable to disguise his surprise. It made perfect sense, a man of Pembry’s age married and with grown-up children, but the idea of a man of his character having a family didn’t quite sit right with him.
Pembry made a noise through his nose. “Bore me silly, they do. Lady Pembry has tried on numerous occasions to insist I attend theton’s balls with her to help find young Eliza a suitable match, but could you imagine anything more dull?” He snorted, shaking his head. “Why would I do such a thing when I have all this?”
“Is that where they are tonight?” Sebastian asked, curious as to whether they even knew Pembry was holding this ball at all. “At the Pembertons?”
Pembry nodded. “And I’ve forbidden them from returning this evening, of course. I wouldn’t want them walking into this. My daughter is far too innocent for all this.”
“Will they stay at Pemberton Hall then?” Sebastian asked.
“Ugh. Please let us talk of something else. I have enough of them on a daily basis, whereas here, within the Lord’s Society, I can truly express myself.”
Sebastian took a glass of whisky from a passing maid and sipped it immediately. It was good—perhaps the best quality whisky he had ever tasted—and once again, he saw the society’s appeal.
But is it worth it?
“There is certainly more freedom to be oneself here than anywhere else I’ve ever had the good fortune to visit,” Sebastian agreed. “Is it true thatallthe rules are eschewed?”
“Every, single, one of them,” Pembry said, punctuating each word. His eyes were alight with the thrill of possibility. “There are plenty of women here, Ravenswood, all them as equally free as us. You know you can choose any one of them you wish, and they shall be yours. Why, you could have two or three if that’s what took your fancy!”
“Now there’s an idea,” he murmured, finding it both repulsive and intriguing at the same time. Still, carnal desire was not his purpose here.
