The Viscount's Pleasure House (Irresistible Aristocrats Book 1)

by Suzi Love

  Chrissie sank onto a settee. “I’m beginning to comprehend how perverted our society has become.” She dropped her head and considered all she’d just learned. A horrible notion filled her mind. She looked up at him, her gaze sharp.

  “Gillian and Edward heard this in our district. Who else knew about the reason my marriage failed, I wonder.”

  “I suspect Edward discovered it from one of his acquaintances in London, not because he had firsthand experience. If it eases your mind, I shall ask him.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ll ask him. And Gillian. I need to know if anyone else, perhaps Geoffrey’s family or the servants, was aware. Though perhaps they all knew. Perhaps they whispered behind my back of the mistress’s stupidity in thinking she, and she alone, understood Geoffrey’s needs. The stupidity that stopped me from questioning him more deeply.”

  “Why didn’t you question him? You’re not unintelligent. You must have suspected something was amiss with him, his attitudes, your marriage.”

  She winced at the accusation in his tone.

  “Damn, I didn’t mean to infer you should have taken more of a role in his life. I’m simply surprised a woman with your curiosity, with your thirst to learn, wasn’t driven to ask more questions.”

  “I did. Ask Geoffrey, I mean. After I asked, he admitted he craved some adventure in the bedroom. Escapades … “ She waved her hand between them, hoping he wouldn’t ask for explanations. “Adventures I wasn’t providing. He said I was the reason he couldn’t get … “

  “A hard prick when around just you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I would not have put it quite so crudely, but yes, you are correct. And as you’ve pointed out more than once, my upbringing of narrow and staid conservatism prevented me from agreeing. After that, his visits to my bed ceased. Therefore, any chance I had of becoming enceinte also disappeared.”

  Justin gave her a shrewd look. “Who did he want to join you in your bed—or should I say, how many?”

  She flushed, and even though the conversation with her husband had been five years earlier, she recalled every word as if it was yesterday. “He suggested several people, all friends. And the worst of it was, he expected me to extend the invitations. If the request came from me, his wife, he believed they wouldn’t be shocked. Rather, they’d be flattered.”

  “I’d hazard a guess that Gillian, Edward, and Anna were on his suggested list.”

  “Top of his list. Naturally, I refused to affront my friends by asking if they’d care to join us in our bedromps. Provincial of me, wasn’t it?”

  He sat beside her and pulled her head to his shoulder, rubbed her back with one hand in comforting circles. “I’m sorry, for you, for not having children. But I’m glad the bastard’s dead or I’d strangle him with my bare hands.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a sigh.

  “At least you now know nothing that happened in your marriage was your fault. Geoffrey is an example of the many indolent gentlemen who develop strange desires and demands and their wives should never be held responsible for their failures. Remember, Chrissie, there are men who will value all you have to offer.”

  “I’m not looking for another man in my life. I prefer my peaceful existence.”

  “You can either hide away in the country where nothing can hurt you again, or you can show real courage and face life. Live again.”

  “This whole adventure, finding you, coming to London, has forced me to live. But I don’t know how much more I’m capable of doing.”

  “You’re capable of great things. I just ask one thing. When you come to the Pleasure House, let yourself enjoy. Don’t simply come to accompany your friends. Come for you, to broaden your mind. Have an adventure with me. Will you do that?”

  “An adventure? Like the one we had at the theatre tonight?”

  “Yes, only better. More. Three full days of it.”

  “What will I have to do?” One shoulder came up in a gesture she was coming to understand meant he was considering his options.

  “Nothing you don’t want. Nothing that makes you uncomfortable.” He smiled, then leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Or, we could seek every gratification we can in the time we are together.”

  “I promise I’ll consider it. But as you know, I only ever intended… “

  He groaned, loudly. “I know. You intended going to my estate to observe. Nothing more. To support your friends.” He stood up and bid her a polite farewell.

  As Justin walked away, he wished he and Chrissie were going to the Pleasure House for entirely different reasons. He wished she was going to be with him, to sample the entertainments as his guest, his concubine, his love.

  Chapter Nine

  Two days later, Justin had everything in place for the arrival of Chrissie and her friends. Sweat beaded his brow and his muscles ached from the surfeit of physical labor he’d subjected his body to—ostensibly to hasten the erection of the tents. In truth, it was to keep his body too exhausted for it to crave relief, to crave Chrissie. He glanced at the mantle clock for the tenth time in an hour and Bart laughed.

  “My friend, they’ll not arrive any sooner for your pacing. Chrissie certainly has you tied up in knots. I’ve never seen you in such a twist over a woman before.”

  “Nobody mentioned Lady Wellsby. There are thirty other guests coming.”

  “Yes, but only one to whom you gave an orgasm while standing outside the theatre.”

  “Damn! I hoped you’d forget having ever seen that.”

  Bart placed his hand over his heart. “I swear your little indiscretions will not be discussed by me.”

  “And in return?”

  Bart grinned. “Would I ask for anything in return?”

  Justin gave a snort of laughter. “Yes!”

  “Ah, yes, well, you know me too well. If you were to grant me a tiny favor in return for my sealed lips, it would be that Magdalene could be allocated to my service for the next four days.”

  “One day.”

  “Three.”

  “Two.”

  “Agreed. Two days with Magdalene. But she’ll not have time to be your exclusive slave, you know that.”

  Bart smiled. “I do know that, but I also know you require her for the groups and I’m more than happy to become a participant then, too.”

  Justin stared at him with dawning horror and then groaned.

  “I forgot the groups. I forgot Chrissie would have to see what happens when men like her husband take part.”

  “You’ll have to find other ways to distract her from morbid thoughts then, won’t you?” Bart said with a smirk. “You know, join her in the romps with the other thirty guests.”

  Justin’s ears pricked up when he heard the sound of carriage wheels. “God, they’re here. What if she doesn’t like it? What if she turns tail and runs?”

  Bart slapped him on the back and strode to the door. “If it is them, you’d best hurry. Make sure they’re in disguise before anyone else sees them. There are at least twenty people in the garden house already.”

  Justin’s mouth opened, terror freezing his reply in his throat, but he recovered and raced to the door. He pushed past Bart, eager to ensure Chrissie was protected by disguise. Luckily, he reached the carriage in time and instructed the women to cover their faces with the veils he’d sent them beforehand. His glance flicked downwards over the rest of the costumes he could see exposed from under the hems of their coats.

  Wide harem pants floated out on each of the women and more tapered pants covered Edward’s legs. He stuck one out for Justin to observe and remarked, “I feel dreadfully foolish in this costume.”

  “You’ll blend in. Everyone wears one to protect their identities. It’s easier this way. Now, ladies, may I escort you to my notorious Pleasure House? The festivities have begun in the garden with entertainment provided by the dancing girls from Arabia, followed by a demonstration by the sword swallower.”

  Anna clapped her hands in excitement and
leaped out of the carriage door. “Sword swallower. Wonderful.”

  “May I say, Miss Anna, you look wonderful,” Bart’s deep voice said from behind Justin.

  Anna smiled at Bart, a full-blown smile of such sweet innocence that all the men watching groaned in unison. Her head spun between them.

  “What is it? Thomas? Bart?” Justin debated throwing her back into the carriage and ordering the driver to take Anna straight back to her country house. And to lock Chrissie and Gillian in the dungeon with her.

  Bart spoke first as Thomas seemed too flustered to answer. “Miss Anna, many of the men here tonight are known rakes. If you look at them with those baby blue eyes so full of innocent guile, they are going to gobble you up like monsters who eat children who wander into dark and evil places.”

  Thomas swallowed loudly and took Anna’s hand. “Miss Anna, it’s as I’ve been trying to convince you— you must leave here immediately, before you are seen.”

  “But gentlemen, nobody will recognize me. Who could possibly know me? Unlike Chrissie and Gillian, I’ve never even had a London season.”

  Edward, Gillian, and Chrissie stood beside the carriage.

  Edward voiced the sentiment of the others. “You may as well save your breath. I’ve spent the entire journey from London trying to convince them to turn around and they’ve spent the entire journey ignoring my pleas and trying to coerce me into divulging what sort of sights they may encounter here. Bloody determined women will be the death of me,” he muttered, glaring at his wife.

  Justin placed his hand on Edward’s tense arm. “Easy, my friend. I held no expectation that they would rescind their decision. Therefore, I made careful plans to ensure they blend with the other girls I employ only to serve food and beverages.”

  Chrissie swung toward him and narrowed her gaze. Her tone was angry, accusing. “You told me no watchers were allowed at the Gardens. Only participants.”

  “Obviously, I lied. I freely admit to attempting any ploy to divert you from your ridiculous plan.” He planted his hands on his hips and spread his feet wide. “What did you expect me to do? Give in to your madcap scheme without protest?”

  Chrissie’s silence alerted Justin to the fact his words had fallen on deaf ears. He’d lost the attention of all three women. Their eyes had dropped to his lower body. He followed their direction to run a critical eye over his light trousers and black boots. His loose shirt hung past his knees, while his head was wrapped in the typical headwear of the men of the desert countries.

  “Amazing,” Chrissie muttered. “Staggering likeness,” Gillian added.

  Anna gasped, clasped her hands to her chest, and cried out, “Prince Zoltan.”

  Thomas threw his hands in the air and groaned. “Oh no, Justin. Now you’ve done it.”

  Justin was as taken aback as Thomas. He couldn’t believe these ladies had discovered the name he’d assumed to play his theatrical role. He scowled at the women.

  “How the hell did you hear that?” Anna spoke first. “We know the name because we’ve all read the book about your exploits.” She gave a girlish giggle. “Several times. I think Chrissie wore out some of the pages.”

  “Damn!” Justin muttered, while Bart burst out laughing. He turned to his friend and sneered. “Bart, this is not amusing.” Bart, however, couldn’t contain his amusement and continued to rock on his heels as he laughed long and loud.

  Justin faced Chrissie. “I’d no idea you ladies would even know such a book existed, let alone acquire a copy. Lady Stressing wrote and published her blasted book before I could stop her. And I assure you, she grossly exaggerated the stories about me.”

  “Do you mean you didn’t do the things she wrote about?”

  Justin was not prone to embarrassment about his wilder exploits of the past. What was done was done as far as he was concerned and he could not change his reputation now. However, he was disconcerted by the thought that Chrissie had read the book about Lady Stressing’s affairs with not only him, but several other gentlemen. And not always at different times. Chrystal liked her men young, assorted, and together. As many as she could get in one room at the same time. And she was at this very moment languishing in one of the terraced Bath Houses just behind his house.

  Feeling it was more beneficial to his health to ignore that particular question, Justin motioned for the group to walk with him. “When here, I assume the character of the prince for the entertainment of the guests. They like the pageantry to be realistic to a sultan’s palace in the middle of the desert and as they pay a great deal of money for the exotic location, I am happy to oblige their desires. That is why you are also in disguises— and those very disguises are what will help you move freely around the various areas and observe without causing a disturbance. It would be unwise for the guests to discover that I have broken all my hard and fast rules for you. They would immediately become suspicious.”

  He led them inside and took them to his private wing in his own house. “You all have rooms here away from the other guests, so tonight, when the drink has been flowing and the level of debauchery deepens, I insist you all retire to your rooms. It is one thing for you to observe some of the more light-hearted pursuits, but I will not allow you to be present if anything too sordid takes place.” He gave the three women a severe stare, daring them to contradict him. “Do you all agree?”

  They nodded their heads in a meek fashion that didn’t fool Justin for a minute.

  “Bloody hell!” He looked at Edward who was also dressed in Arabic clothes. “I expect you to keep them under some sort of control. Act like you’re here to serve food and drinks, nothing more. Keep your heads down and don’t attract any attention to yourselves. There are plenty of secret viewing areas where you may sit unobserved.”

  Bart treated Anna to one of his most roguish grins and she, innocent that she was, returned it with another sweet smile. “I shall be delighted to accompany our delightful Anna, and to explain the events as they unfold.”

  Justin growled low in his throat and glared at Bart. Beside him Thomas stiffened, his fists tightening at his sides.

  “Bart,” Justin said, stepping between Bart and Thomas before Thomas decided to direct a punch at his friend’s nose. “I thought you preferred Magdalene’s company.”

  “Oh, I do. I adore Magdalene. But it occurred to me Anna may like to join us.”

  Thomas’s shoulders heaved with barely contained fury and the color in his cheeks turned to a worrying motley red. Justin groaned. “Bloody hell, Bart, why are you doing this to me?”

  Thankfully, Anna seemed ignorant of how high the tension between the two men had risen. She placed her hand on Thomas’s arm as she tilted her head in consideration. She addressed Bart, her tone sweet and innocent, naïve in fact. Justin could see disaster looming as his two friends eyed each other over Anna’s head.

  “Perhaps,” Anna said, oblivious to the opposing ways her words would be construed, and most likely twisted, by the two men. “I might find that interesting. We will see.”

  With a strong sense of foreboding, Justin showed the group to their rooms and after they had refreshed themselves, accompanied them to the gardens. He explained the area was attended by different servants who catered to the needs of the guests during the entertainment. After that, individual guests or groups could request particular entertainment for viewing, but for the first afternoon, public displays of intimacy were forbidden in the gardens. After the dancing girls, people would wander up to the terraced levels of the Bath House and relax in the hot spring waters that flowed down the mountainside.

  “If any of the men or women accosts you, keep your veils over your faces and your trays close to your bodies. Don’t speak to them. Pass them by with your head dipped. The guests know better than to annoy anyone who is not one of my paid courtesans or a willing guest.”

  Thomas frowned at him and Justin knew his more conservative friend was envisioning all the problems that he himself could also foresee. Only Bart
seemed happy with the prospect of throwing three naïve women amongst the lions. But then, Bart had always had an appreciation of the absurd. And what could be more absurd than a man who had decried sex, avoided women’s beds, and was trying to live down his reputation yet now was forced into this bizarre state of affairs? A circumstance where he would offer three ladies, not demimondes or whores, a chance to see things forbidden from being discussed aloud in the world they inhabited.

  “Edward, I fear you may be the biggest problem of all. You do not look like the burly men I bring to entertain the women—”

  “Now see here,” Edward objected.

  “I mean no offense, but I only employ very large men to go with the groups of women. Much bigger in every aspect than any of us.” He waved a hand to include himself and Bart and even Thomas. “I feel it would be better if you pretended to be a participant but kept your face covered.”

  Gillian’s face dropped and for the first time she looked distressed. “But I did not intend … I mean, what if one of the courtesans offers to do things with my husband?”

  Justin reassured her as best he could but he knew they were taking a risk. If Edward’s identity were uncovered, other gentlemen present would be more than happy to spread the gossip that his marriage was already failing. That would leave both Edward and Gillian as targets for the rakes and widows of the ton. The ones who delighted in preying on spouses who were left alone. Gillian did not realize the trouble she might unwittingly unleash for them both.