Vanessa eyed Clune warily. “So I am to be the bait in your trap?”
“Precisely. At gatherings such as these, the entertainment is usually of a carnal nature. I will simply intimate to Sin that you are to be the prime attraction for the evening and see how he reacts. I doubt that he will be able to conceal his jealousy.”
“He is apt to be more enraged by your trick than jealous.”
Clune gave her a tolerant smile. “Sin and I have been friends forever. The worst he will do is plant me a facer, but I’m willing to risk it.”
She’d heard enough boxing cant from her brother to understand his meaning, but she wondered if Damien would be content with only throwing a punch.
“Naturally I have no intention of actually putting you on display,” Clune added, “but merely giving the suggestion of it. I’m afraid, however, that I must lock you in here for a short while to prevent your attempting escape.”
She stared at him.
“I hope you will make yourself comfortable, my lady. I will send a maid up with some tea-or wine, if you prefer.”
“How generous of you,” Vanessa said, her tone scathing.
Without replying, he withdrew and closed the door softly behind him. Vanessa flinched when she heard the key turn in the lock.
Still somewhat dazed by her abrupt change in circumstances, she moved across the room to the window, only to discover it locked also. Even if she broke the glass, it was rather a long jump to the gravel below. She was likely to break an ankle, or worse.
Vanessa took a steadying breath to calm her nerves. It wasn’t as if she were truly captive. The footman at Rosewood knew where she had gone.
Even so, she hadn’t divulged a word about Damien’s alleged accident for fear of alarming the entire household. They would think she was with him and wouldn’t worry if she didn’t return home before this evening…
She turned away to pace the room. She would not allow herself to panic. Damien wasn’t hurt, that was the important thing. She could bear the embarrassment of Clune’s outrageous prank if she had to. And it looked as if she might have no choice but to go along.
Her anger swelling anew, Vanessa grimaced in disgust. She was getting a taste of the disreputable life she had chosen, and, frankly, it repulsed her. Even so…
She didn’t know whether Clune was acting for his own amusement or out of spite, but in either event, she might be wiser to play his game. If Damien saw her outrage, it would only fuel his own. If this farce, however, could avoid being turned into a public spectacle, perhaps then she could manage to salvage some shred of reputation.
* * *
The hunting party returned in a jovial mood and settled in the gun room with glasses of ale all around, exchanging tall tales of past shooting exploits under the benign surveillance of the stags’ heads mounted on the walls.
Damien was silent, his thoughts miles away rather than with his Hellfire colleagues. He’d found it nearly impossible to keep up the pretense of enjoyment. The endless pursuit of pleasure had palled entirely-
A burst of laughter interrupted his seditious reflections. Awareness returning, Damien realized that Clune was scrutinizing him thoughtfully.
“Is something on your mind?” Damien asked.
“Indeed there is. I’ve arranged a surprise for you.” The earl flashed a secretive smile that Damien didn’t much care for, and then turned to their American guest. “Sabine, you haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing our initiation ritual into the Hellfire League. You have a real treat in store.”
Several voices seconded the observation as glasses were raised.
“Oh?” Sabine murmured noncommittally. “What might that be?”
“You have to satisfy a court of maidens,” Lord Thornhill replied.
“A court?”
“A dozen beauties plus a queen.”
“ “Tis little more than an
orgy,” someone else remarked amicably.
“You have it wrong,” Pendergast disagreed. “It’s a test of how long you can stay aroused without spending.”