Page 67 of A Duke's Keeper
Camille’s tone was dry. “I do believe the risk of being caught is part of their pleasure. And innocence... that is willingly given.”
“You mean proper ladies join in when they find out? But the idea that any of them would find pleasure is more than unlikely.”
Camille had shared his horror the first time she’d heard such a thing. To think of individuals enjoying what was supposed to be sacred between a man and a woman in a group where any number of pairs and trios may go off together. But then again, no one invited was underage and only consenting adults were encouraged to join, or watch. And Lord Quickner had seemed more than a decent man, for a viscount.
“Is it so surprising the sheltered succumb to temptation when they have been given no education? Ladies are shamed into thinking they are to know nothing of their own bodies until a husband comes along, and then it becomeshis.”
Renard turned to her, his color high. “I never said I agreed with the idiocy of society, butmy sisterhas lived more than a simple ‘sheltered life.’ I’m not sure she’s spoken to another peer since we were children. She may not understand the innuendo of an invitation to such... such...”
“Indecency? Fun? I must say, the red in your face brings out the green flecks in your vest.”
“This is serious, Milly.”
The comfort of their usual banter had her blurting out, “I’ve missed you.” His eyes widened as he mirrored her ownsurprise at the confession. Taking her words as encouragement, he said, “Meet me in the garden tomorrow morning. Please.” He smirked. “Preferably when the ‘festivities’ are well over.”
“Squeamish, Your Grace? All those legs and mouths and hands—”
“You tease, my dear.” His boyish grin made her heart flutter. “I am no prude, but I found I like living under a code of pleasure: one woman. It was what my parents had, and what I want.”
“One woman at a time only?” She’d heard plenty of stories of young men gallivanting through London and testing the limits of brothels with multiple partners at once, the ‘rogue’ Duke of Lux being one of them. “Now who’s talking unlikeliness?”
“Notat a time.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I meant, one woman for life.” His gaze flicked towards the second level and back.
To stay and fight to win her affection or go save the sister he’d always looked after; she saw the indecision in his eyes. No one had ever foughtforher.
“Go,” she said.
Camille stood there for a long time after he’d gone in search of a housemaid, his absence up the stairs like a string growing taut between them.
A string that Camille suspected, if she looked inward, would be knotted to the heart in her chest.
*
There’d been notime that next morning to meet in the garden. After confirming his sister was indeed in her room and safe—though not from an epic lecture from her older brother—and seemingly ignorant of the party’s actual purpose, Renard had laid his head on the pillow but a moment before a crashing sound echoed through the manor.
For prurient nobles who prowled the nighttime for group fun, they were surprisingly lively for ten in the morning—and their servants were quite adept with a larger-than-necessary dinner gong.
Renard stood in Lord Quickner’s side lawn with the rest of the party. With the dozens of guests milling about in their striped dresses and coats, his neck and eyes strained for a glimpse of fiery hair in the unending sea of lines.
She’d been like a phantom last night, standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking domestic and lovely in a silk dressing gown with a tray of snacks in her hand. How he’d wanted to wrap her in his arms and take her on those stairs, her hair spilling down around her shoulders, and eat those snacks off her naked body.
Of all places for Madam to send her, it was fate once again, he decided. The emerald necklace was packed away in the small trunk at the foot of the bed for guest use. With a bit more of fate’s hand, he’d give it to her and then secure both her and Charlotte’s futures today.
“Looking for someone, Your Grace?”
Renard bowed his head to the lady of the house. “Admiring the grounds, Lady Quickner. They are well maintained.”
“Lord Quickner will be glad to hear it.” The lady snapped her fan closed and tapped him playfully on the shoulder. Blue eyes flashing, the color matched perfectly with her silk kimono and the look of mischief on her aged but fair face. “But you were looking for something else, or someone. No use denying it! A woman knows.”
Renard eyed the lady with growing apprehension. Women were terrifying creatures. A man may do serious harm to himself and his reputation by underestimating their powers of perception.
He turned on the charm and gave the woman a conspiratorial grin. “Don’t tell anyone my secret.”
Her fan clicked open in her burst of triumph. “A budding romance. I knew it!” She nodded approvingly. “It’s good of you to confide in me. None of these other young men will tell me anything. Think I’m a meddler or something equally hurtful.” She pouted. “As if a grown woman of five—” she cleared her throat. “Four and six would be at all interested in their shallow liaisons.”
Renard smiled at that. He supposed his sex wasn’t entirely hopeless. A flash of red hair over the lady’s shoulder had his heart skipping. He scowled at the crowd between him and Camille. Getting her alone now would take near divine intervention... or an experienced woman used to slipping away. He was awfully glad Lady Quickner had decided to meddle.
He walked a few paces, pressing lightly on Lady Quickner’s elbow for her to follow, and all the while keeping that red hair in sight.
