The viscount stood and moved to sit across from him. Once he was resettled, he said, “As if anyone could sleep with two younger sisters and a mother in attendance that gab incessantly from dusk to dawn and all through the night.”
Hunter sat up a bit straighter as the waiter returned with his drink and then departed. “Indeed?” he said, taking a hearty sip. “I didn’t realize Celeste and Editha were old enough to make their debut.”
His friend smiled as he pointed out, “Just because you leave the country doesn’t mean the rest of us cease to exist. My twin siblings actually made their curtsy last spring and have received several offers, and yet, they continue to plague me with their desire for one more season. It was only at my mother’s behest that I finally gave in.”
Hunter frowned slightly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
Avion waved a hand, his gold signet ring catching the light from the fire. The spark from the flames nearly matched the unusual shade of amber in his eyes. “There was nothing you could have done to spare me the torment of living with three women. It’s merely my misfortune that my father perished and left me in charge before I was ready to take on the task.”
An arrow of guilt shot through Hunter’s heart as he recalled the death of the earl three years ago, although he had been in India at the time and since he’d had a singular focus, he’d allowed nothing to penetrate the haze of his vengeance. “I suppose I missed the funeral, didn’t I?”
“You did.” Darwood nodded. “But I fear it was quite a sorrowful affair. It was probably for the best you were chasing Lord Gregory across Asia rather than sobbing into your handkerchief with the rest of us.”
Hunter downed his sherry and set the empty glass aside. He leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry I failed our friendship, Darwood. In truth, I feel as if I wasted my time on such an empty pursuit. As long as the Marquess of Highgrove has the king’s ear, I fear Lord Gregory will never stay long in gaol no matter what I do to ensure his guilt.”
The viscount tilted his head to the side. “Is that what brought you out so early this morning?”
Hunter’s drink was magically refilled, so he lifted it to his lips, but he didn’t drink, merely stared into the teasing liquid that promised oblivion, but what he knew would only be fleeting. He set it aside. “Ironically enough, I hadn’t even thought of Lord Gregory until you brought him up.”
“Ah. Then if it isn’t revenge you’re after at this time of day, it must be an issue with a particular female.” The viscount’s lips lifted at the corners.
Hunter laughed. “That’s rather astute of you, actually.”
“Then this recent conundrum must have something to do with your lovely mistress.”
Hunter had confided many things to Avion over the years, but he found that speaking of Persephone would be a break in her trust. However, since he was in need of some advice, he admitted, “The lady does have me tied up in knots at the moment.”
“I see. Does this mean you’re thinking of breaking things off?”
Hunter frowned. Last night had been a revelation in more ways than one. The idea of sending Persephone away to become some other man’s mistress actually made him physically ill. Not only that, but he couldn’t ensure her safety if she wasn’t under the same roof. But what about when the time came that he was expected to choose a bride?
Perhaps there was a way he could do both at the same time…
He got to his feet. “I have to go.”
Darwood lifted a brow, but said nothing further as Hunter headed for the door.
It was time he paid his father a long overdue visit.
Chapter Six
Hunter tapped a finger on the chair arm in the king’s private sitting area where he’d been forced to wait for the past half hour. No doubt his father was making him wait on purpose.
When the double doors to his chamber finally opened and he walked inside, he waved off the guard that would have followed. “The Crown has nothing to fear from the Duke of Falcourt.” He lifted a brow. “You are still a loyal subject, are you not?” he addressed Hunter.
“Indeed, Your Majesty.” Hunter bowed low. He’d never called this man his father, finding that it served him better if he offered him the reverence as a monarch instead.
As the doors shut behind the king, he walked over to a settee near the fireplace and, once he was seated, gestured for Hunter to do the same. He was dressed in tan breeches, white stockings and black-heeled shoes, topped by a gold, cutaway coat with silver embroidery, a powdered wig firmly in place. Even though this was a casual call rather than a formal event, Hunter knew that the king had suffered from various fits of maladies in the past and demanded to look his best at all times so that the mental state of his mind was never taken into question during moments of sanity.
“I’m curious as to why you would call upon Us so early in the day, Falcourt.”
He always referenced himself as one with England, so Hunter addressed him as such now. “I was hoping to gain Your favor for a particular request.”
The king sniffed. “I hope this doesn’t have to do with the unfortunate business about Lord Gregory. I’m told he has retired to the country with Highgrove for the time being and is behaving as a model gentleman.” He shook his head. “Really, Falcourt, can you not leave the man to his own devices? It’s been more than five years since your sister’s attack.”
Six, actually, Hunter yearned to correct, but he held his tongue on that matter. “On the contrary, I’m here on another matter entirely.” He took a deep breath. “I wish to have the Crown’s blessing to marry Miss Persephone Welton.”
The king instantly laughed. “You wish to wed your mistress? A known harlot’s daughter?”
Hunter clenched his jaw, and yet he stood his ground. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
The merriment subsided as the monarch abruptly stood. “No.”
He started to walk away, but Hunter wouldn’t be dissuaded. Only one other time had he dared to use their personal connection as influence. Even then, he’d been refused for Lord Gregory still walked free. “Consider it a gift for your son.”
The king spun back around, his expression not merely haughty, but closely condemning. “The gift We have bestowed upon you is making you a highly regarded peer of the realm and that was out of my fondness for your mother. But I shall deny your request. Men of our station wed for duty and the good of England. If you are looking for a bride, I will send ’round a list of preferable candidates. Good day, Falcourt.”
Hunter sighed heavily as the king departed. That certainly hadn’t gone as he’d hoped, but it wasn’t a surprise that the conversation had ended as it had. With thirteen other legitimate children alive to cater to, Hunter was lucky that he’d been granted a private audience with his sire at all. Not only that, but it hadn’t been so many years ago that his eldest half-brother had dared to try to elope with his mistress without his father’s consent. It hadn’t gone well then either.
As he left the royal chambers and began to walk down the hall to depart, he had to chuckle, for Prince George IV was heading toward him from the other direction. As they drew closer to one another he saw the man’s eyes narrow suspiciously. Then again, Hunter was a constant reminder of his father’s perfidy with a woman he’d loved who was not the queen. In spite of this, they had always been at odds.
He bowed in reverence, but he couldn’t help goading him just a little. “I was just thinking of you, brother.”
Instantly, the elder man’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “I shudder to imagine why.”
“The king declined my request to marry my mistress.” He smiled. “So you see, we aren’t so different after all, you and I.”
The Regent stepped closer to him. “We are nothing alike.” With that, he brushed past Hunter and stalked down the hall, his heeled boots clicking noisily on the marble floor.
With a sigh, Hunter left the Old Palace and started the journey back home. Aft
er such a tedious morning, he was eager to return and see Persephone’s familiar face.
***
“I was just about to send ’round a note this morning, but you’ve beaten me to it.” The Countess of Virsage greeted Sephy with a kiss on each of her cheeks. Today, Charlotte wore a rather extravagant gown of white with embroidered red roses along the bodice and hem. But then, she wasn’t known to spare any expense, for Charlotte was inclined to continue to enjoy the finer things in life. “I daresay these impromptu visits of yours are starting to become rather predictable.”
“I do hope I’m not being an imposition, my lady,” Sephy murmured. If the eccentric lady decided she didn’t wish to be bothered any longer, she would have no choice but to turn to her mother for the advice she desperately needed. The prospect was not appealing in this case.
“Nonsense.” Charlotte waved a hand and smiled, the heart shaped patch near her eye crinkling slightly. “You know you are always welcome here.” She patted the settee next to her and Sephy sat down obediently. “Now, before I tell you what I wanted to say, first I demand you speak what’s on your mind.”
Sephy took a deep breath. She’d made it this far. “It’s about Falcourt.”
Abruptly, the lady’s face shifted. “Has he been unkind to you?”
“Oh, no. In truth, he’s been rather…attentive.” Sephy waited to see if the lady might take her meaning.
“Indeed?” she nearly purred. “And how was the duke between your legs, my dear?”
Sephy was quite sure she turned twenty shades of red, her face heated so, but she forced herself to say, “More than adequate I believe.”
The countess shrugged. “Then what is the problem? It seems to me things are finally taking the direction they should. Unless, of course, you have further questions about pleasing a man?”
The memory of Hunter’s cock in her mouth instantly came to mind, and she shook her head. “I believe I have that covered,” she said rather confidently. “I’m actually more concerned about reaching his… heart.”
“Why would you want to do that?” the countess asked curiously. “Surely you haven’t developed feelings for him? He’s been gone for years and only recently returned. Even though you let society believe he returned to England for a tryst now and then, I know the truth.” She reached out and touched Sephy’s hand. “I fear that you’re confusing lust with something more. You’re still very inexperienced—”
She shook her head. “No. It’s not about how I feel about Falcourt, although I think he is incomparable. I fear he wants to keep me at a distance because he feels that he shouldn’t feel lust after whatever happened to his sister, although I fear if I ask him about it, the memory might break this tenable bond we currently have.” She sighed heavily. “Last night he was ready to send me back to my mother’s house, and he was gone before I went downstairs this morning, so I honestly don’t know if I will even be his mistress for much longer, although nothing would please me more.”
Charlotte tapped a thoughtful finger against her red lips. “Hmm. This is concerning. As a mistress you’ve been taught the art of seduction. If he doesn’t always respond to your advances, then you must play the coquette, so long as you don’t rebuff him when his defenses weaken. Frustration in a man can provoke his anger and we certainly don’t want to lead him in that direction.” She slid her glance back to her. “Do you have any honey in the house, per chance?”
“I’m… not sure.” Sephy asked. “Why?”
As she explained, Persephone’s eyes widened. “How positively wicked.”
“Isn’t it?” the countess agreed, and then she changed the subject. “Now that we’ve found a solution to one problem, I have some news for you that might actually help your current plight.”
“What is that?” Sephy asked.
“As you asked, I made a few discreet inquiries into Lord Gregory’s relationship with the duke’s sister, Louisa.” She shook her head. “While I have been known to engage in a bit of painful fetish now and then, I fear that his interests exceed anything I might have even dreamed of. I was told he had been a friend of Falcourt’s at one time and was even invited to his uncle’s estate for a house party. This is where he met Louisa. They began a torrid relationship that weekend which ended up becoming more than just an affair. He actually abducted her and took her to his hunting box in Scotland.”
She shuddered and then pushed forward. “I heard he was brutal, even chaining her to the bed where she had to beg for scraps of food like some sort of animal. Apparently this wasn’t the first time he’d done something of this nature, but it was the first time the lady was of some note.
“Falcourt discovered their location, as he had been searching for Louisa for weeks. Naturally, he was furious at what he found. Unfortunately, by the time he arrived the damage had already been done. After so much sexual torture, his sister’s mind was broken beyond repair. She remains at his uncle’s estate, a shell of the bright young woman she’d been before the incident. It’s rumored that she has a live in caregiver and spends most of her time staring out the window, mumbling to herself incoherently. She can’t even bathe or eat without assistance.”
Persephone found it difficult to breathe. The horror that Hunter must have come upon, and now, to be faced with a sister who was alive, but no longer living… It was no wonder he vowed vengeance upon Lord Gregory.
The man was more of a monster than she could have ever imagined.
It also made more sense to her why he would abstain from sexual favors.
She squeezed the lady’s hand. “Thank you, Charlotte.” On impulse, she reached out and hugged her. “You are a true friend and I value your counsel greatly.”
After a time, she took her leave, but before she did, she instructed the driver to make one last stop…
***
The front door opened, and Hunter strode out into the foyer. When he saw Persephone, he snapped, “I thought I told you I didn’t want you going out without my knowledge!”
She blinked at his outrage, and he couldn’t help but drink in the lovely sight of her. Her red-gold hair was hanging down in sensual ringlets around her neck, and the gown of purple satin that she wore clung to her every curve. With the recent, empire waist style becoming all the fashion, her breasts were on admirable display. He couldn’t help but think, rather uncharitably, to whom she might have been showing them to.
“I left you a note on your dressing table. Did you not see it?”
That made him pause. “I haven’t been upstairs to my rooms as I just returned a short time ago myself. Once I was informed that you were out…” He waved a hand and mumbled, “Forget I said anything.”
He turned on his heel and headed back to his study.
He was nearly halfway there by the time she caught up to him. “Hunter, wait! I have something for you.”
He stopped. Not because she told him she had something, but because she’d called him by his given name, rather than his title. It caused the blood to run hot through his veins and he wanted nothing more than to hear her call it out in the heat of passion.
A vivid image of him bending her over his desk flashed in his mind before he firmly pushed it aside.
“Here.”
He glanced down as she shoved something toward him. It was a book. But not just any book. As he read the title, he froze. “Tractatus de mente humana” by Louis de La Forge. He had been a friend of Rene Descartes, a French philosopher who’d studied the workings of the mind at length. Hunter couldn’t even say how many times he’d poured over texts just like this one.
“I thought it might… help your sister.”
The gift touched something deep in his soul, but he hardened his jaw against it. He might have gone to the king about marrying this woman, but that didn’t mean he could allow her to get too close to his heart. It was his duty as her protector to keep her safe so that she didn’t suffer the same fate as Louisa.
He walked into the study and tossed the book on a
nearby table. “I see you’ve been speaking to others about me.” He snorted. “And you don’t think I’ve read hundreds of those treatises, hoping for some sort of grand epiphany into Louisa’s condition?” He snorted. “If so, I fear you would be wrong, my dear.”
He heard her take a tentative step into the room. “I merely confided in a close friend. I… didn’t mean to upset you further, Falcourt.”
It was the use of his title that caused him to grind his teeth together.
He spun on her and captured her face in his hands, bringing his mouth down on hers. It didn’t take much coercion on his part before she was melting into the embrace.
But just as quickly as it had begun, he was ripping away from her. His breathing was shallow and labored as if he’d run a great distance. He closed his eyes as shame coursed through his body. He was using his passion for her to eclipse his common sense. “Leave me. It’s not a good idea for you to be here right now.”
Tension rippled along his shoulders as he heard the smooth click of the door closing. The fine hairs on the back of his neck rose in awareness, for something told him she hadn’t gone anywhere. When he felt her hand rub along the hard ridge beneath his trousers, he hissed between his teeth.
“I don’t think you really want me to go, Falcourt. I know I don’t.”
He opened his eyes and saw the truth swimming in those mesmerizing blue eyes. It reflected the same desire that flowed through his blood. Every nerve ending called out for her and he wasn’t in the mood to deny the urges.
Hunter picked her up around the waist and carried her over to the desk where he set her on top of the mahogany wood. She lifted her skirts and spread her legs, a blatant invitation. But while he’d just been dreaming of this moment, he found that he didn’t want it to be over quite so soon.
He fell to his knees and raised her skirts to place his lips at the apex of her thighs. She moaned and moved her hips restlessly, so he licked a path up the middle. Her exhale filled the room and so he rewarded her by starting a rhythm with his tongue that soon had her convulsing.
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