“Does that mean you wish to present?”
For some reason, the thought of her husband with his mistress spurred her courage. “Yes—for tonight.”
“Very well. I will wait for you when you are done.”
I have lost my mind, Harrietta said to herself as she stepped into the line formed by four other women and three men. She could not deny that her body felt warm from seeing all the bodies of men and women writhing in pleasure, but she had not expected that she might be one of them tonight. From the corners of her eyes, she saw the man in the silver and black mask, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked over the line of men and women presenting. She wanted to flee.
But then she saw him move. He was coming toward her.
Chapter Three
VALE SAW LOVELL ELROY, a man equal to him in physique and dominance, saunter toward the line of newcomers. It was unlikely that Lovell would select Harrietta—if the man selected anyone at all. Not all newcomers merited a partner. And Harrietta, with her square shoulders, petite breasts, and common features, was not the type of woman who would catch Lovell’s eye. But Vale couldn’t take that chance.
Damn Charlotte, Vale thought, when I lay my hands upon her...
“You,” he said to Harrietta in a hoarse whisper to disguise his voice. “Come with me.”
Lovell looked over. The rivalry between him and Vale was understated but obvious. Vale knew that Lovell was wondering why he was bothering with someone like Harrietta.
Vale began walking away. The sooner he removed Harrietta the better. What the devil was Charlotte thinking bringing her here?
He realized he was not being followed and turned back. Harrietta had not moved. Instead, she simply stared at him dumbly.
“I will assume you did not hear me,” Vale told her. Heads around them began to shake.
She glanced over to where Charlotte was standing. Charlotte nodded her head encouragingly.
“Come with me,” Vale repeated and turned once more. This time Harrietta followed. He led her to the farthest and most private alcove. It was also one of the darkest, allowing him to reside in the shadows of the faint candlelight.
“Stand there,” he directed her, pointing to the center of the room with his riding crop. He surveyed her evening dress. It was a simple gown of violet damask that was part of the new wardrobe he had purchased for her as part of her wedding gift. The corset had managed to push her petite breasts up to form faint contours above the décolletage. She wore her hair curled, but loose and pulled away from her face. The blue half-mask covered what he knew to be a pert little nose but not her full lips, which formed a slight frown in their state of rest. Vale shook his head. Why did she bother with a mask when her emerald necklace—a family heirloom he had presented to her on the day of their wedding—flashed around her neck like a beacon?
“That is a striking necklace, ma petite,” he said as he ambled around her slowly.
She realized her error and stammered, “I—it belongs to a friend. She lent it to me for the evening.”
An adequate lie, Vale thought to himself. He wanted to sigh and run his hand through his hair. But he continued to circle around her as she watched him cautiously. Why had she come? And what was he going to do with her now that she was here?
“You don’t belong here,” he pronounced.
She lifted her chin. “Indeed?”
“You had best return home with your friend.”
“I will leave when I am ready.”
Vale pressed his lips together in displeasure. He was well acquainted with her stubborn streak—one that she shared with Harold—and it seemed time had not diminished that quality. God, but she looked so much like her brother, Vale thought to himself as he studied her. The memory of his best friend tugged at his heart with fresh vigor in her presence. He could feel the guilt in every cell of his body. He should have tended to the Delaney family immediately upon learning of Harold’s death. Or at least when he had assumed the title of Marquess and had come into his full inheritance. The Delaney family had provided him with the warmth and affection that he lacked from his own family. He owed them the courtesy of a visit and so much more. But each passing year only strengthened the inertia. The guilt grew until he could ignore it no longer, and he had thought to absolve himself by marrying Harrietta; a posthumous apology to Harold for not having taken better care of his best friend’s family.
“This is no place for you,” he told her.
“Who are you to judge?”
He stepped toward her. She jumped a little but remained where she was. He stood behind her and leaned in toward her ear.
“Did you think I could not smell your apprehension?”
“That is merely because I am unfamiliar here,” she responded.
Vale raised his brows. “You have been to similar establishments before?”