Bound by Bliss

by Lavinia Kent

  “You can’t expect me to wear that. I’ll draw every eye in the place.”

  Again he said nothing.

  “Blast, blast, and blast,” she mumbled under her breath as she reached out and took the mask. “I really do need to work on more curses.”

  He wasn’t quite sure he’d heard the last, but given that this was Bliss, he probably had. “There will, with some likelihood, be several others in masks. Many wish to hide their identity at Madame Rouge’s. It is part of the appeal.”

  “You will have to tie it for me.” She held it over her face and turned her back to him. “And be careful of my hair, nobody will think me a boy if it falls about my shoulders. I spent an hour trying to wrap it under so that it would look shorter. I do wish it were not so heavy.” As soon as the mask was tied, she turned about and looked at him through the eyeholes. “And why would anyone wear a mask at a gentleman’s club? Swanston always said that all that happened in them was that men drank port, read the papers, played cards, and gossiped like women. I never did understand why Lady Ormande thought it was so important I go, but I did trust her opinion. I am not even sure how she managed to visit so often. I thought these places did not allow women.”

  That stopped him. Bliss didn’t know what Madame Rouge’s was? She truly thought it was a gentleman’s club. He should just have taken her to White’s or Boodle’s. She probably would not have known the difference. Although—and he smiled at the thought—it would have been a good deal harder to sneak her into White’s than into Ruby’s. Hell, he didn’t have to sneak her into Ruby’s, he only had to guard her identity. He let his gaze wander over her full lips. Had it been wishful thinking on his part to believe she wanted to visit Ruby’s? He’d hoped she was curious about sexual matters, but he’d clearly jumped ahead a mile or two. Her response to watching Lord Banks and then their kiss had placed some very definite thoughts in his mind.

  Maybe if she realized what Ruby’s was he’d be free of this ridiculous endeavor—which is what he should want. He fought to suppress his desire to see her face again flooded with arousal. “Madame Rouge’s is not exactly a gentleman’s club.”

  “It’s not? That is the name, isn’t it? Madame Rouge’s Club for Gentlemen of Taste? If it’s not a gentleman’s club why would the Countess have thought it would be fun? I mean, I can gain entrance on my own to just about any place in Town. The only thing that made this seem fun was thinking that women were not allowed. The Countess knew I was looking for adventure and to fulfill my curiosity. Why would she suggest a place that did not fulfill those needs? Is this a trick on your part, a way to get out of our arrangement? You are not making me trust you.”

  Duldon paused, seeking the right words. Countess Ormande had been a dangerous woman before she’d been forcibly sent to Scotland with her husband. The Countess had actually gone as far as to abduct Louisa, Bliss’s sister-in-law. It was a wonder that Bliss had never found out the truth of her friend. It would be tempting to tell her, but the story was sordid and contained secrets that were not his to share. He would stick to the simple facts that needed to be addressed—and then perhaps Bliss would decide that she did not need to enter Madame Rouge’s. “The club is a brothel. It caters to those with unusual tastes.”

  He saw a moment of bewilderment pass over her face, and then surprise, before her mouth pinched in denial. “I don’t believe you,” she said. “And how would you know such a thing?” Her rising temper was visible even beneath the half-mask.

  Now how did he answer that? How did she think he knew about it? He certainly was not about to reveal his own tastes to his future bride. She might feature in his fantasies on many occasions, but that didn’t mean he ever actually intended to involve her. Well, at least not to any great degree. There were some things one did not do with a wife. Although he did have to admit to having had some serious thoughts of their wedding night and just how he might play a bit, but only a bit.

  “What has put that look on your face? And are you going to answer me?” She stared up at him, her features stiff.

  No, he was not. Instead he turned and stared across the street at the famous red door. “Do you still want to go in? The only way I can prove that it is a brothel is to take you in. I am afraid that you will find much of what you will see horrifying.”

  He saw her swallow, the delicate cords of her throat tightening. When she spoke it was firmly, but she could not quite mask her doubt. Her gaze dropped from his. “I am sure that I am beyond such feelings. I am not some innocent young miss. And indeed, I now understand why the Countess wished to bring me here. She knew that I had curiosity and that there are very few places for a young lady to get information about what happens between men and women. I have learned some from my brothers, mostly Robert, but even they seem to believe that much is not fit for my ears, much less my eyes. I mentioned my desires to know more to the Countess and she clearly understood.”

  Bliss rambled when she was nervous. He had never consciously considered it before, but now it was clear. “Are you certain you wish to go in? I am sure that I can find some other way to satisfy your curiosity—ways that do not involve potential discovery.” His mind filled with a thousand and one possibilities. “And I promise to answer any question you might ask.”

  “No, I want to go in. The Countess was a good friend and she thought I would enjoy it. Perhaps I truly am a—what was that word you used earlier?—a voyeur. I have to admit that even after what I saw at the ball two nights ago I do find I want to see more. Do they let you watch? I’ve never heard that about a brothel.” Her eyes returned to him and settled on his face, her pupils large and dark. She reached out and laid a hand upon his sleeve.

  Now that might be a problem he had not considered—and one that had his pants feeling a size too tight. Many brothels had peepholes in the rooms and charged patrons a fee to watch. Ruby’s had these holes, but she used them only to check on the safety of her girls, unless a patron wished to be watched, and there were some who very definitely did. He would have to hope that there were some of that persuasion here this evening. Perhaps he could use that as a reason to delay this expedition. “I still think that it would be better if I explained things to you further before your visit. It would also give me time to be sure that everything is set up for your pleasure.” He let himself linger over the word pleasure, feeling her fingers clench upon his arm. “Let us go.” He turned on his heel and started to walk away. The streets were cold and fully dark; his boots clattered on the cobbles. He would explain everything to her and then surely she would see sense—even Bliss must realize that some things were too far over the line. He would find some other way to satisfy her curiosity—something that would keep her safe, even from him.

  Her fingers dropped from his arm and there was no sound of steps following him. He turned and looked over his shoulder.

  Bliss was walking, but toward Madame Rouge’s instead of away. Even under the sweep of his cloak he could see the saucy sway of her hips as she strode forward.

  “Bliss.” His exasperation was clear in his tone.

  “I am going anyway. And you have failed in your quest and therefore I don’t have to consider marrying you. You have proved that I cannot trust you.”

  Shit. “It’s not that simple and you know it. I didn’t say that I wouldn’t take you. I merely said that I thought we should talk first.” How else was he ever going to persuade her against this foolishness? And did he truly want to? That might be the greatest part of the problem, the reason he had allowed things to proceed this far. How could he resist Bliss when everything she suggested was something he had fantasized about for years? Would it be so wrong to indulge if it was what she wanted too? In all his years of restraint it had never occurred to him that she might desire such things.

  “No. I want to go now. Who knows when I will manage to sneak out of the house again?”

  He didn’t take that excuse, not for a single moment. He was convinced that Bliss found her way out of her father�
��s townhouse whenever she wished. “That is not valid and you know it.”

  She turned toward him, red lips beneath the deep satin of the mask. “Does it matter? I am going. Are you coming? Can I trust you? Will you keep your word?”

  There was some temptation to leave her to folly. The moment she stepped through that red door and saw what was on the other side she’d come running back—or maybe not. Ruby kept a tidy house, and her front hall and parlor could have graced many a Mayfair home. It was the upstairs rooms that would send her packing, and by the time she reached them it might be too late for easy escape.

  And he did need her to learn to trust him.

  “Wait, I will escort you.” He did not bother to keep emotion from his tone. “I will require you to do as I say. And I want your promise on that. More of this foolishness could be dangerous. Do you promise?”

  The mask hid her features so that all he could see was the neat moue of her mouth as she pretended to consider. He’d felt her agreement the moment he spoke the words.

  “I promise, as long you treat me like a woman and not a child,” she answered.

  “No. I want a straight promise that cannot be argued about later. Once we go through that door you do what I say, no matter what.”

  “And if I say no?” Her body gave the most delicious little squirm. She did like to play with fire.

  A dozen forms of punishment filled his mind—but no. “Then I will put you over my shoulder and deliver you to your brother, along with a full explanation of the events of this night. I know that he will not be pleased that I played along, but if Swanston heard you were trying to get into Madame Rouge’s I imagine you’d be locked in a tower for the next twenty years.”

  She chuckled. “Do you really think that Swanston knows about Madame Rouge’s? I bet he thinks it’s a gentleman’s club too. I know he’s gotten better since he married Louisa, but I don’t think she’s been teaching him about brothels.”

  —

  Why was Duldon looking at her like that? He acted like he’d taken her statement seriously when everybody knew Louisa was a true lady, and ladies certainly didn’t go to either gentleman’s clubs or brothels. And Swanston had been even duller than she liked to pretend Duldon was before his marriage. He no more knew about Madame Rouge’s than he knew how to unlace a corset. She wouldn’t be surprised if her brother’s valet and Louisa’s lady’s maid helped tuck them into bed.

  She forced herself back to the moment before her thoughts could stray. The situation might make her more uncomfortable than she would ever admit, but it was important that she stay focused. She was going to a brothel. Never would she have dared suggest a thing, at least not intentionally, but she wasn’t going to miss a chance like this. Tonight she could have all her questions answered, her curiosity satisfied.

  She glanced down at Duldon’s wrist and became entranced by the golden hairs that snuck from his cuff. She’d never noticed them before. Her fingers ached to touch them. Could they possibly be as soft as they looked?

  “I think you will just have to trust me, although I know you find that hard to do.” Duldon drew her full attention back to his face. “There are some things that all gentlemen know—and Madame Rouge’s is one of those things. I daresay you could ask schoolboys and grandfathers and they all would know,” Duldon answered after a moment.

  She wasn’t going to give in that easily. “I am still not sure I think that is true.”

  “You are just being argumentative—and for no reason. Either you promise me or I carry you to your brother. And regardless of what he knows about Madame Rouge’s, you know he will not be pleased with any of this. I should add that should you fail to keep your promise I will lay you over my knee and you will not walk for a week. If you act like a child, I will treat you like one. Now, do you promise?”

  “I promise.” She said it softly, her mind filled with the image of lying across Duldon’s lap and finding it not as distasteful as she would have imagined. She could almost feel his hard thighs pressed into the softness of her belly. The thought was enough to make her light-headed. Shaking her head, as much to clear it as to express her thoughts, she answered, “Let’s go. No more of these delaying tactics.”

  Even as his boots began to tread toward the red door, she thought she heard a low sigh, but he did not speak. Mounting the few steps to the door, he held out his hand. “Do not speak, not to anyone, and keep your head low. You will follow me and do as I say. Do you understand?”

  She nodded and gave a hushed yes as he rapped once upon the red door. It sprung open instantly.

  For the first time she fully admitted the nerves that churned in her belly. She was actually going to do this. In that moment if she could have turned and run she would have. She, Lady Bliss Danser, was about to enter a brothel.

  “Good evening, Lord Duldon,” the elderly porter said as he stepped back, allowing them to enter. “May I take your hat and…your companion’s cloak?” He glanced at Bliss, but quickly turned his gaze away.

  “Simms, you may take my hat. I believe my companion will keep the cloak, for now. And I need to speak to Ruby. I have a request to make.”

  “Of course, my lord. Madame Rouge is occupied at the moment. There was a slight incident in one of the upstairs rooms. If I may escort you to the parlor, I will have refreshment sent in.”

  Duldon nodded his acceptance of this plan and the porter, taking Duldon’s hat, opened a door to the chamber beyond and then slipped away. Placing a hand on her waist, Duldon directed her into the room, just as a group of young gentlemen entered through the door, their laughter raucous and loud—and perhaps familiar. Bliss ducked her head as she sensed one of them staring at her, his long gloved fingers lifting his hat from his head. Trying to hide, Bliss quickly followed Duldon, glad she had not seen more and that they could not identify her.

  Bliss stopped and stared.

  The room was…so normal. Her mother might have kept such a parlor. Well, perhaps not her mother; any room that her mother fashioned would have been much more colorful, a brilliant rainbow, and it would probably have been filled with books and china and scarves and…Bliss couldn’t remember her childhood well enough to be sure what else her mother had filled rooms with, but she did remember they had always been filled. It had been hard to find a place to set a cup of tea much less sit. She remembered one time when the family had been fascinated with circuses and her mother had had a trapeze hung in the ballroom. She didn’t remember her mother actually using it, but she knew her brother, Robert, had swung back and forth while brandishing a cutlass in a memorable game of pirates. And he’d taught her to pick a lock. She’d never inquired where he’d come by that skill, but she fully understood why a pirate princess would need it. That had been such a wonderful day. She’d been allowed to be part of the crew instead of a prisoner. Perhaps that was why she’d had such fun donning the breeches today.

  “Whatever are you thinking? I don’t believe that anybody has ever smiled quite so sweetly upon seeing Ruby’s parlor. Or were your thoughts straying again?”

  Coming back to the moment, she turned to Duldon. “Ruby?”

  “Madame Rouge. And you have not answered my question,” he replied.

  “You call her by her first name and her porter knows you by name,” she stated, raising a brow.

  “We do not need to talk of that now. I did assure you that I knew this establishment was not simply a gentleman’s club. Although, to be fair, it is far more than a brothel. Ruby has several rooms upstairs that she rents to those in need.”

  Those in need? Who would need a room in a brothel? Bliss let her mind ponder this fascinating question for a moment.

  “Lovers who are not wed—or perhaps who are wed to someone else. Those who prefer something that is not within the usual realm of society, men who prefer men, men who wish to dress as women, and those whose tastes are even more exceptional.”

  She blinked. “Are you reading my mind?” It was uncanny how accurately he had
answered her unspoken question, a question she had only just begun to form. And did people really do those things? She supposed she knew that they did, had certainly heard whisperings, but…

  “No, only your face. And you still have not told me what made you smile when we entered the room.” He strolled over and sat in a high-backed chair, his legs sprawled before him. Her eyes were drawn to his strong thighs and calves. What were they like underneath his trousers? Could he possibly be as strong as he appeared? In her mind she slipped a hand up his trousers, skimming over the silk of his stockings, until she could feel.

  Knowing that heat was rapidly rising on her cheeks, she chose to follow his example and sit, angling herself so that her face was partially shadowed. If she was going to keep having lewd thoughts she did not want be watched. “I was thinking about playing games with Robert when we were much younger. There were times he allowed me to be part of the action instead of just a decorative piece of scenery—or worse.”

  “I cannot imagine you ever being merely decorative; you are too full of life.”

  That was a nice thing to say. “You are correct. I only said he allowed me to be a true part of the game for once. My brothers were always trying to make me play fair maidens or stooges and I wanted to be an Amazon.”

  He chuckled, just as the porter reappeared after the briefest scratch on the still-open door. He bore a heavy tray loaded with decanters and glassware. “I brought whiskey and brandy. I can fetch a sherry if needed.” His eyes moved to Bliss.

  She huddled deeper into Duldon’s cloak, suddenly glad of its presence, and of the shadows that hid her face below the mask. About to answer, she remembered her promise to Duldon and turned to glance at him. He smiled in reward, and she felt a small warm glow within. She tried to suppress it. She did not need his approval, but it would not be put down.