Lord Savage

by Mia Gabriel

  My hesitation had made me late, and now I would be the last Innocent to be chosen. The chairs of the Protectors had been arranged in a close ring around a small bench, while the Innocents who had already been claimed stood obediently behind their Protectors.

  It made for a shocking sight, the Protectors still in their full evening attire, while the Innocents were half dressed in the same kind of revealing costumes that I myself wore. Seeing the other women’s thinly veiled breasts was unsettling, but far worse—or was it far more exciting?—were the male Innocents, gentlemen with whom I had conversed politely over dinner now with their upper bodies bare and their cocks and balls proudly displayed through the sheer fabric of their loose trousers.

  I had never seen gentlemen—or ordinary men, either—show themselves so freely to me. Hastily I lowered my gaze, my cheeks burning.

  “Climb up, my dear, climb up,” whispered the viscountess, helping me step up onto the bench. “Do not be shy, but bold, even brazen, the way a true beauty should. Stand to the front where all can admire you.”

  I swallowed, unable to look up as I instinctively shielded my breasts with my hands.

  Coward, I told myself, coward, coward! I had wanted excitement in my life, and surely there could be few experiences more calculated to make my heart quicken than this, to wear the merest scrap of clothing and stand in a crimson-draped room above the man I longed to have as my lover.

  “A smile, my beautiful Innocent,” purred the viscountess beside me, “a winning smile for your would-be Protectors, to encourage them to bid deeply for the privilege of educating you.”

  I was playing a role. I had to remember that. I was no longer Mrs. Arthur Hart, but an Innocent, a beautiful, brazen Innocent, desiring to please and be pleased by my Protector. I breathed deeply of the incense to force myself to relax, and slowly raised my chin.

  And at once I met the gaze of Lord Savage, sitting directly before me.

  I caught my breath, startled by the intensity of his pale blue eyes. Because I was standing on the bench, his face was turned up toward me, yet there was nothing of the supplicant about his expression, nothing worshipful. True, his full lips were curled into the merest hint of a smile, the smile of a gentleman agreeably happy with what he saw.

  But his eyes betrayed that genteel smile. Instead of agreeability, his eyes were watching me with raw hunger and desire so great that I could feel it as surely as if he’d reached out and caressed me. His eyes flicked down over my body, appraising not only my voluptuous beauty but the depth of his own need. The intensity of his scrutiny made my heart beat faster and my skin glow with an unexpected warmth that had little to do with embarrassment.

  His gaze stirred a restlessness in my body, and I fought the unexpected wish to press my thighs together more tightly, as if that would somehow ease the restlessness. His eyes promised that he’d explain, and make me understand. I wanted that knowledge from him; no, I needed it, with an urgency that I’d no words to describe.

  I forgot the other Protectors and Innocents watching me, forgot Lady Carleigh, forgot the gaudy surroundings of the Egyptian Room. Every part of my awareness narrowed so completely that Lord Savage and I might have been standing alone in some vast, empty space. For me, nothing existed except him.

  My lips parted on their own, and my breath quickened, and I could not have dragged my gaze away from his if my very life had depended upon it.

  “Take your hands from your breasts,” he said, startling me not with his request but with the rough, deep sound of his voice. “Show them to me.”

  I slowly dropped my hands to my sides, my earlier shyness forgotten. At once, too, I felt my nipples tighten against the sheer cloth, exactly as they had when Simpson had tugged them, except that now it was Lord Savage’s hands that I longed to have caressing my breasts.

  “Excellent,” he said, drawing the syllables out.

  It was all the encouragement I needed. I pulled back my shoulders and hollowed my belly to mimic the effect that my corset usually created. The result was to lift my breasts higher, as if I was presenting them to Lord Savage, the rosy tips pushing forward with a brazenness I had never realized I possessed, exactly as Lady Carleigh had advised me to be.

  This time the earl said nothing, nor did his half smile change. But I saw the extra spark of interest and desire in his eyes, a hunger that was so predatory that an answering shiver rippled through my body.

  “Surely she must be one of the most lovely Innocents ever to grace our party,” Lady Carleigh said, her voice low and enticing. “How fortunate the gentleman who will be her Protector! Shall we begin the bidding, my friends?”

  “A hundred guineas,” Lord Savage said with such confident assurance that it was almost a drawl. “That will make for a fair start, yes?”

  “Damnation, Savage,” said the man beside him, his voice full of violent anger. “There’s nothing fair about this devil’s bargain. The bitch will be mine, no matter how far you empty your pockets!”

  I gasped, my eyes widening. The seductive spell that had existed between me and Lord Savage had been shattered, and the reality of my situation was now harshly apparent.

  Lord Savage was only one of the gentlemen vying for me.

  The other was Baron Blackledge.

  FOUR

  In an instant the mood in the room changed. The sweet air of seduction and amusement vanished as quickly as the musicians stopped playing, leaving only the leaden anger of Baron Blackledge. Automatically I shrank back to the edge of the bench, and again covered my breasts with my hands—not so much to shield myself in modesty but as a way of protecting myself from the violence of the baron’s outburst.

  Slowly Lord Savage turned in his chair to face the other man, his half smile still in place. I sensed a sudden tension behind his outwardly relaxed features, something taut and dangerous that the baron would be a fool to ignore.

  “I’ll thank you, Blackledge,” he said with deceptive mildness, “not to refer to Mrs. Hart with such crude vulgarity. She is a lady, and deserves to be treated as such.”

  But the baron shook his head, his face flushed and mottled above the stiff white collar of his dress shirt.

  “If I buy her, then I can call her whatever I wish,” he said bluntly. “Those are the damned rules of the Game, aren’t they?”

  “The rules, Baron, say that she is an Innocent,” Lady Carleigh said gently, gliding forward to stand before me and the two men. “Pray recall, too, that you are bidding not for ownership of the Innocent’s person, but merely for the right to her education whilst you are my guest.”

  “A welcome reminder, Lady Carleigh,” Lord Savage said, and though his smile widened, the tension was still apparent in his handsome features. “You are wisdom itself.”

  Lady Carleigh feathered her hand before her in acknowledgment.

  “You are far too generous, my lord,” she said. “I’d thought I had explained the rules of our little auction sufficiently, but if Lord Blackledge has misinterpreted them, then I am the one at fault, for my lack of clarity. Is that not so, Baron?”

  But Lord Blackledge was in no humor for reminders, or apologies, either.

  “Two hundred,” he said curtly, his gaze riveted to my breasts.

  Savage’s smile widened a fraction. “Four hundred.”

  “Five,” answered Lord Blackledge.

  “Ah, Blackledge,” Savage said. “And here I thought we were doubling. A thousand pounds.”

  A thousand pounds. I was trembling, my heart drumming in my breast. A thousand pounds was nearly five thousand dollars, an enormous sum for a frivolous party game.

  Because that was what it was, wasn’t it? A game, and no more?

  But what would I do if the baron outbid Lord Savage? I didn’t like Lord Blackledge, and worse, I didn’t trust him. Why did I sense that this had become a game I couldn’t quit?

  “Damn you, Savage,” said Lord Blackledge. He was sweating now, the coppery little hairs at his temples curling dam
ply. “Two thousand pounds!”

  “You needn’t take this course, Baron,” Lady Carleigh said, coaxing. “There is another Innocent in need of instruction, a rare beauty I invited especially at your request.”

  For the first time I noticed the other young woman who was waiting to one side without a Protector. She hadn’t been at dinner, and I guessed she must be one of the servants willing to participate, as Simpson had described. She was indeed a rare beauty, with luminous large eyes, pale gold hair, and heavy, full breasts beneath her transparent gown, but she looked disappointed, even petulant, at being ignored, like the last wallflower at a ball. Despite my uneasiness, I felt sorry for her.

  “It’s quite rude of you to ignore the other, ah, Innocent, Baron,” I said. “Especially if you requested that she—”

  “Silence!” ordered Lord Blackledge curtly, his eyes flashing. “No Innocent has the right to address a Protector without permission. You deserve punishment for that, and when you are mine, I’ll make sure that you never dare open your mouth except to—”

  “But she won’t be yours, Blackledge,” Savage said beside him. “Ten thousand.”

  “Ten thousand!” the baron exclaimed, his face florid and mottled with anger. “Damn you, Savage. Ten thousand for—”

  “For this Innocent.” Savage’s voice was deceptively mild. “A round sum, yes?”

  “You will counter, Baron?” asked Lady Carleigh hopefully. “Recall the wagers are for a charitable—”

  “Blast the charity, and blast the wagers with it.” The baron stood abruptly, his hands clenched into tight fists at his side. “You take her, Savage, and to the devil with you both.”

  He turned and crossed the room to the young woman he’d ignored, and seized her by the wrist.

  “Come,” he said, pulling her along to the door. “I’ve had enough of this company.”

  The girl followed him, stumbling a bit over the hem of her flowing gown. He swore, and jerked her arm to make her keep up.

  Yet, despite this treatment, her smile was sly and knowing in a way that puzzled me. Perhaps the girl had done this before. Perhaps she was already familiar with the baron’s temper and knew how to manage it to her benefit. Certainly she seemed unconcerned with the rough way Lord Blackledge was treating her, and with a little shiver, I thought how grateful I was not to be in the girl’s place.

  “Well now, I suppose that’s done,” the viscountess said, smiling at Savage as the other guests, Protectors and Innocents alike, began to leave the room to begin their own, more private, amusements. “While I thank you for your generosity,” Lady Carleigh continued, “I must also accept your bid of five thousand as final, since Lord Blackledge did not raise his offer beyond that.”

  Savage rose and bowed slightly. “I offered ten thousand, Lady Carleigh, and ten thousand it will be. Your little parish will undoubtedly spend it in a more Christian manner than would I. I’ll have a bank draft sent to your attention.”

  Lady Carleigh chuckled, running her fingers lightly up and down her long strands of pearls. She was a Protector herself, and as she conversed with Lord Savage, a powerfully built and mostly naked young man came to stand respectfully beside her. Without looking at him, the viscountess idly began stroking the young man’s bare chest, her jeweled fingers toying with his dark, curling hair and pinching his small, puckered nipples.

  I knew I shouldn’t be shocked, but I was; nor was the sight of Lord Carleigh escorting a giggling young woman from the room, with his hand firmly on her bottom, any less unsettling.

  “My church wardens wouldn’t dare accept that draft, my lord,” Lady Carleigh continued with languid bemusement, “if they knew the half of how you spent your … money.”

  “Then you’d best not tell them,” Lord Savage said, turning away from her to me, still standing on the bench. He offered me his hand, and I took it, hopping lightly down to the carpeted floor.

  “I must thank you, too, my lord,” I said warmly, still holding his hand as I gazed up at him. “That was most generous of you, and on my behalf, too. Ten thousand pounds!”

  He turned his head slightly, regarding me with a sidelong gaze.

  “It is only money,” he said, “and I would have thought that you, of all women, would know that money doesn’t matter.”

  I blushed, surprised that he knew that much of my background. He was right, of course. If my life had taught me anything, it was that money in itself seldom brought happiness. “But you did it for me.”

  “I did it to keep you from falling into Blackledge’s brutish hands, yes,” he said. “I would have done the same to preserve a good horse or hunting dog.”

  “Ah,” I said, surprised again, but not as agreeably as before. I wished he would smile at me as he had at the viscountess. “Still, I must say that you—”

  “Mrs. Hart,” he said, cutting me off. “As boorish as Blackledge can be, he was correct in one matter. You, as an Innocent, have no right to speak to a Protector without being first addressed. Weren’t the rules of the Game explained to you?”

  I nodded, trying to remember what Simpson had told me. “Yes, I suppose they were.”

  He frowned down at me, and I thought how much larger, how much stronger, he was than I.

  “Recall that you are my Innocent, and I your Protector,” he said. “‘Yes, Master’ is the proper response, and the only response that is acceptable. Do you understand?”

  I hesitated. Much of the reason I had come to England—and most of the reason I had come to Wrenton Manor—was to escape who I had been in New York. I’d thought I was done with deferring to men, and now here Lord Savage was expecting exactly that of me.

  “Forgive me, my lord,” I began, “but I cannot see why I must—”

  “Because in this place, you are no longer Mrs. Hart,” he said evenly. “You are only an Innocent, and you know nothing. You must be led and guided towards the knowledge of pleasure. You must trust me, or remain ignorant. Is that clear?”

  It wasn’t, and as I stood before him, I felt nothing but confusion. I was desperate to discover the kind of love and pleasure that the rest of the world experienced, but I didn’t want to be ordered about like the lowest of half-witted scullery maids. If I’d any sense, I thought, I would leave this place now, in my own clothes and on my own terms.

  And yet, and yet …

  The longer I gazed up into Lord Savage’s pale blue eyes, the more I doubted myself. This week might be a mere game to Lady Carleigh and her friends, but it felt like much more to me.

  What if this truly was the one path left to me? In the ways of pleasure, I was every bit as shamefully ignorant as he claimed. That part wasn’t a game—that was the truth. I knew nothing, really, nothing at all, while I didn’t doubt that he knew everything.

  As if reading my thoughts, Lord Savage suddenly smiled: not a wide, fool’s grin, but a small, secret smile for me alone, as if hinting at all we’d soon come to share if only I’d agree to trust him, and obey.

  “You will trust me?” he asked again.

  “Yes, Master,” I murmured, this time agreeing. “Yes.”

  He nodded, clearly pleased, and pressed my fingers lightly to show his approval. But when he lifted my hand to his lips, bowing over it with an unexpected, old-fashioned air, I nearly gasped aloud. No man had ever made so romantic and courtly a gesture to me, ever.

  Of course I would trust him. How could I not, after that?

  “Since you are now my Innocent, I will call you Eve, here in our little Eden together,” he said. “You will answer to that, won’t you, Eve?”

  It was the perfect name for an Innocent, even as it was also a variation of my own name, Evelyn. I had never been called anything other than my given name, and I liked the idea that Lord Savage would be the only one to use this one, a special little endearment between us alone.

  I nodded, then remembered how I was supposed to reply.

  “Yes, Master,” I said. “That is, my name is Eve, Master.”


  “Good.” He smiled again, and released my hand, turning away. Most of the other Protectors and Innocents had already left the room. Lady Carleigh and her Innocent still lingered, as she offered a few final orders to the servants who had appeared to put the room back to rights.

  Lord Savage beckoned to one of the maids.

  “Show this Innocent to my rooms,” he told her. “Barry will tend to her.”

  “Who is Barry?” I asked.

  Savage wheeled around and frowned, his expression instantly as ominous as thunder. “I did not address you, Eve.”

  I blushed, embarrassed that I had already erred. This reminded me of the old children’s game Mother, May I?, with much more at stake.

  “Forgive me, Master, I didn’t mean to—”

  “You are not to speak until I address you, Eve,” he said curtly, and turned back to the maid. “Show her upstairs at once.”

  He left me then, crossing the room to speak once more with Lady Carleigh. Though his back was to me, his displeasure was apparent in the squared set of his shoulders, and I felt disappointment well up within me—not with him, but with myself.

  “I’ll show you to his lordship’s rooms, ma’am,” the maid said, still treating me with the respect due to Mrs. Hart. “This way, ma’am.”

  As soon as we were on the stairs and out of Savage’s hearing, I touched the maid’s sleeve.

  “Who is Barry?” I asked anxiously, fearing that the earl might be passing me along to a different Protector. “I don’t believe I met any gentleman here with that name. Is he another guest? What do you know of him?”

  The maid smiled, but I didn’t miss the faint pity in her voice.

  “Oh no, ma’am, Mr. Barry’s not a gentleman,” she said. “He’s Lord Savage’s manservant. I expect his lordship will have told Mr. Barry to look after you until he joins you. His lordship’s rooms are here, at the end of this hall. He’s such friends with the Lord and Lady Carleigh that his rooms here are almost like lodgings, with everything just to his liking for whenever he visits.”

  She rapped on the door, and the manservant answered so swiftly that I suspected he must have been waiting nearby.