“Think nothing of it, miss.” The set of his mouth gave Amelia the impression he’d like to forget it had happened entirely.
“Everything is sorted,” she called up to the coachman. “Let’s be off.”
More than sorted. The driver had done his part marvelously. She’d promised him double the fare, but she ought to throw a bit more on top. Everything had gone according to plan.
Every dress Amelia owned was laid out on the various surfaces of her bedroom. She was standing in the middle of them, frowning.
“None of these look particularly sinful,” she told Julia.
“Whose fault is that?” Julia answered from her place on the bed. “Remember this moment the next time we’re dress shopping and you’re refusing to order anything interesting.”
“I don’t usually need anything interesting.”
“Until you do. It’s always good to have something unexpected to hand.”
Amelia couldn’t argue. She’d already been saved once by Julia’s predilection for inappropriate clothing. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I do this and it still doesn’t put Embry off?”
“Then we will try something else.”
And something else, and something else, and something further still. Whatever she must.
“I stole from Jasper.” To give her and Nick a chance. To be free. But it was all so selfish. What if she was wrong? What if having an affair with Nick was a mistake, and she destroyed their friendship? “I don’t know who I’m becoming, Julia.”
“Pretending to become, more’s the pity. If this were an actual change of temperament, I would rejoice.” Julia leaned off the edge of the bed, flashing teal stockings as she sifted through a pile of cotton day dresses with a scowl.
“How do you know it’s not?”
Julia lifted her head. “If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?”
“Home,” Amelia answered instantly.
“Do you know where I would be?”
Amelia shook her head.
“Beijing.”
“You would not.”
“I would.”
“Doing what?”
Julia shrugged. “Who knows? Seeing sights. Meeting people. Lounging in a cloud of opium smoke. I could be doing anything.”
“You wouldn’t actually go.” The whole notion sounded terrifying.
“Yes, I would,” Julia pinned Amelia with a serious stare and a raised finger. “And that’s the point. You like to think about art and faraway places, but your heart is at home. No matter how many wicked things you do, you’ll always secretly be sitting with a teacup and a book.”
God, what she wouldn’t give to be sitting in the window seat in her bedroom at home right now reading. “Am I the docile homebody Embry thinks I am?”
“Homebody, absolutely. Docile? Never. You’re still my sister, after all.”
“High praise.”
“The highest. Montrose thinks he can wrap you up and box you in to being just one way. You are a member of the scandalous Bishop family. We accept no limitations, regardless of our natural predilections.”
Amelia laughed as she always did when Julia started waxing lyrical on the virtues of their status as outcasts. “All right, I believe you, but I still don’t have anything to wear.”
“I think I know what’s missing,” Julia declared.
Thank goodness. “Oh?”
“We’ve only dragged out the dresses.”
What else would they drag out? The only other things she had were trousers. She realized belatedly that was what Julia meant. “I can’t wear the riding costume to a ball.”
“Not exactly as you did before. That would be boring. But if we use the trousers for something, you would be immediately recognized without having to take off your mask.”
So much for the window seat and the book. Nicholas’s poor tailor was going to have an apoplexy when he heard she’d gone back out in his creation. At least it wouldn’t be quite so public this time.
Julia’s face lit up with inspiration. “I’ve got it. I know exactly what your costume will be.”
Chapter Sixteen
Nicholas was firmly ensconced with Mr. Fletcher and Philip, the wicks of the oil lamps burning low as they finalized the details of Philip’s takeover, when Jasper’s unmistakable tones rang through the house.
“For God’s sake, let me pass and I’ll do it myself.”
“My lord, if you’ll only wait.”
Nicholas excused himself and leaned out into the hall. “Jas?”
“Thank God,” Jasper said, sidestepping Philip’s butler. “You must come at once. It’s an emergency.”
Emergency was a widely defined term in Jasper’s world. It covered everything from inebriated love-interests to invading hostile troops.
“I’m in the middle of something important,” Nick explained.
Jasper went rigid with affront. “More important than Amelia’s safety? Or her virtue?”
What the devil had happened now? “I’m sorry, Mr. Fletcher. Philip.”
“We have it from here,” Fletcher promised.
Heart racing, Nicholas left them to it.
“You need a dress coat.”
Nicholas stopped. “Jasper, this had better not be another one of your schemes.”
“They won’t let you in without a dress coat. They may try to not let you in anyway, but we’ve got to get in to get her out.”
“Who is they? Where are we going? Where is Amelia?”
“The Sinner’s Ball.”
Mother of God. Nicholas had never been to La balle du pécheur, but he had heard enough stories in Paris to know Amelia did not belong there. They were rumored to combine the showmanship of the old Italian masques with the secrecy and sexual depravity of a Greek orgy.
“We have to hurry,” Jasper told him.
Hands already turning clammy with nerves, Nicholas led the way to his rooms to grab his coat. “How do you know she’s there?”
“Goddamn Renton mentioned it in front of her at that Chesterfield soiree and she got it in her head that I should take her.”
“Which you wouldn’t.”
Jasper glared at him as they took the stairs two at a time. “Of course I wouldn’t. I’m eccentric, not an idiot.”
“So how could she be there? It’s bloody impossible to get in without an invitation.”
“She has one.”
“What? How?”
“She stole mine.”
“Stole it?” Nicholas had a hard time imagining Amelia as a thief. “Are you certain?”
“Completely. Are you going to keep questioning me like I’m simple-minded, or can we get on with it? We’re already late.”
Nicholas changed into evening dress faster than he ever had in his life. Still, every minute it took for them to get back down the stairs and into Jasper’s waiting coach felt like an eternity.
“How do you know she took it?”
“Because it’s missing, and apparently Amelia paid a secret visit to my house today.”
“That doesn’t mean she took it.”
“She lied to my butler, claiming she left a necklace that she was decidedly not wearing the night we went to Crockford’s.”
“Are you certain?”
Jasper sighed. “Have you ever known me to misremember anything to do with a woman’s bosom?”
Fair point.
“She took it, Nicholas. Points for cleverness and all that, but she doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.”
Even Nicholas wasn’t entirely certain, but what he did know made him stick his head out and shout for the driver to pick up the pace. Looking out, he realized they were on a road headed out of London. “Where are we going?”
“Not far.”
Nicholas clenched his teeth, silently willing himself not to lose his temper. “Jasper.”
“There are rules, Nicholas.”
“And you care about them?”
“I ought to. I
made them.”
So Jasper was one of the founders of La balle du pécheur. It wasn’t terribly surprising. They had a tendency to crop up in cities Jasper haunted, and decadence and debauchery were two of his favorite pastimes. “If anything happens to Amelia, I am going to blame you.”
“As you wish. I won’t notice, because I’ll be busy blaming you.”
“Me?” Nicholas exclaimed.
“You.” Jasper leveled a glare at him. “You should have shot Montrose and put an end to this ages ago.”
The sight when Amelia entered the ballroom froze her in place. Bodies—naked, exposed bodies—were everywhere. Not three feet in front of her, a woman was bent over the lap of a man who was gasping in pleasure, while another man lurched rhythmically against her backside. She met Amelia’s stare with a wink as she increased the bobbing motion of her head.
Was that…were they…
It was, and they were. Amelia was suddenly thankful her masque was covering most of her face. As it was, the skin across her throat and chest felt impossibly warm.
To the left, a woman was stretched out across a table while another woman dripped honey across her skin. A couple sat on a couch a few feet away, touching each other intimately as they watched the second woman bend down and lick the honey from the first. To the right was a scene much like the woman with her two male companions, but all three were men.
Amelia’s eyes widened as far as they would go. She should have listened to Jasper. This was not what she’d thought.
Whatever she must do to get rid of Embry.
An arm slipped around her, coming to rest not at her waist but between her legs—stroking the trouser-clad juncture of her thighs. Amelia’s shock came out as a squeak.
“Aren’t you delightful,” a man’s voice growled in her ear. His teeth scraped her earlobe and a rigid protrusion pressed against the small of her back. He dragged her hand back, cupping it against his arousal. “What’s your pleasure? Do you like to command or submit?”
Her eyes flicked back to the couple on the couch. The man had joined the women with the honey and his partner was stretched out on the couch alone, pleasuring herself. “I…like to watch.”
“Don’t we all.” He chuckled, still moving his fingers between her legs. “But you know the rules. Everyone participates.”
Everyone participates? Oh, hell. She had to get away from here, but first she had to get away from her extremely amorous new acquaintance. “I’ve only just arrived. I haven’t yet decided where I’ll start.”
He turned her around, cupping her backside in his hands. “Start with me.”
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t think. Just wrap those sweet, pink lips around my cock.” He let her go to undo the buttons on his trousers.
Amelia backed up and spun straight into a wall of masculine chest. The smell of coffee and oranges filled her senses. Her head snapped up, finding a familiar shadowed jawline and rigid set of lips beneath the edge of a black domino. That feeling of being completely safe dropped over her again. How could he feel so right, just standing there?
“Ni—”
He put his fingers to her lips. “Names aren’t allowed. Are you all right?”
Amelia nodded.
Nicholas glared over her shoulder at the man she’d stepped away from. “Are you certain?”
“I am now.”
Jasper joined them, distinct even with his bright harlequin mask, and inspected her from head to toe. The usual twinkle of mischief was missing from his eyes. “Ah, yes. She’ll do nicely. Bring her, we’ll find a room.”
“She’s mine,” the man with his trousers open protested.
“Is she?” Jasper sounded doubtful. He looked the other man up and down with a smirk before turning back to Amelia. “Lady’s choice. Will you stay with him or come with us?”
Safely standing between Nicholas and Jasper, Amelia felt much bolder than she had a moment ago. She pretended to consider the question. Looking Jasper over the way he’d done to her, she pursed her lips. She circled Nicholas, running her hands along the lines of his back and legs. There was an edge of warning in the look he gave her when she came back around to his front.
“I’ll come with you.”
Jasper smiled. He sketched a bow to her acquaintance and led Amelia and Nicholas through the ballroom. The sounds and smells of passion surrounded them as they stepped carefully past prostrate forms and outstretched limbs. All three of them received their fair share of groping before they made it to the other side. Only Jasper appeared to be enjoying himself, returning the fondling in kind.
“Shouldn’t we be going back toward the carriage?” Nicholas asked.
Jasper didn’t answer. He motioned for them to wait while he went to speak with an attendant. After a moment, the attendant handed him a key and Jasper returned, gesturing that they should follow him. They went up a flight of stairs and down a short hallway, stopping in front of a door.
Jasper handed Nicholas the key. “Lock it behind you. I’ll come back for you in a few hours.”
Nicholas did not look happy. “We need to take Amelia home.”
“Amelia should never have been here in the first place,” Jasper said with a flat stare in her direction. “But since she is, we might as well follow through with her plan.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Why not?” Jasper asked. “In a few hours, the worst of the depravity will be over. Most people will be too exhausted. You and Amelia can put on a bit of a show without any real danger.”
Amelia blushed. The idea of doing any of the things they’d passed on their way through the ballroom, especially where anyone could see her, was scandalizing indeed.
“And now I must go make amends for bringing not one but two novices to the ball,” Jasper announced.
Amelia wondered what form the amends would take.
“Must?” Nicholas mused.
Jasper shrugged. “Must, desire. It’s all the same at the Sinner’s Ball. I’ve done my part. You can lock yourselves in, or not. Who knows, maybe you’ll find something that interests you.”
They watched him walk away down the hall.
“Is he terribly cross?” Amelia asked.
“He was. Mostly he’s just glad we found you and that you’re safe.”
“And you?” she asked Nicholas.
He didn’t answer, but the set of his jaw was not encouraging.
The click of the lock sounded overly loud to Nicholas’s ears. Now that they were alone, the fear he’d been carrying on the ride turned into nervous energy and threatened to burst through his skin. “You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked. Her face hadn’t been visible beneath her mask, but he’d felt her tension when she’d run into his chest.
Amelia nodded. The ostrich feather in her cavalier’s hat bounced with the motion.
“I wanted to strangle that man for touching you.”
Amelia put her hand on his forearm. “He didn’t hurt me.”
It was Nicholas’s turn to nod. He wrapped his arms around her, satisfying a primal part of himself that needed tactile confirmation that she truly was unharmed.
“It’s my fault really,” Amelia said. “From what I gather, his behavior was perfectly acceptable for where we are.”
Yes, it was, which begged the question. “What are you doing here, Amelia?”
“I thought it could finally put an end to the engagement. Surely Embry wouldn’t want me if he thought I’d…”
“Been servicing strange men in a public ballroom?” Nicholas offered.
“Precisely.”
“Did it not occur to you that you might be expected to actually give truth to some of the rumors you were hoping to spread about yourself?”
Amelia leaned back to look at him. “I thought there would be a wandering hand or two, but that it would be like Crockford’s. I’d planned to be seen, and flirt, and then come home.”
Sweet, naïve Amelia. “And how did you pla
n for Montrose to hear of it?”
“Surely someone would mention it.”
“The point of the Sinner’s Ball is that it isn’t talked about.”
“Except it absolutely is,” Amelia argued. “I heard about it and so did you.”
“Through our association with Jasper. I doubt Montrose consorts with any of tonight’s attendees.”
“So it was for nothing.”
Nicholas wanted to yell and chastise her, but he didn’t have the right. She was her own woman. He didn’t get to be angry about what she chose to get herself into. Instead, he feigned a lightness he didn’t feel. “Not for nothing. I’ve gotten to see you in trousers again, which is always a torturous delight.”
“Do you like my costume?” She backed away and did a turn. “It was Julia’s idea.”
The crimson trousers fit her like a second skin. There was a sword belted to her hips and the billowy white shirt was open in front, exposing the smooth skin between her breasts as if she were a lothario lounging in dishabille. “It’s very compelling. You’re a cavalier?”
“I am La Maupin, the famous seductress who made conquests of men and women alike, and fought duels over honor.” She bowed with an extra flourish.
Nicholas was given an uninhibited view of her breasts all the way down to her navel. “Have you bowed to anyone else?”
“No.” Amelia righted herself. “Why?”
“No reason.”
She reached up and ran her fingertips along the edge of his half-mask. They dipped down, tracing his lips. They fluttered there while she said, “Hullo, Nicholas.”
A different man would have let her continue. A different man would have taken what she was offering and been thankful. But Nicholas could only be himself. He’d thought he could manage an affair, but he couldn’t. Seeing her with that other man’s hands on her downstairs had nearly killed him. He’d been in love with her from the day they met and he wanted more from her than curiosity. “Amelia, don’t.”
She frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“The other night was amazing, the best moment of my life, but I can’t. It’s not good for me.”
“Why?” At the rejection, bold Amelia turned back into the shy girl she’d been growing up.
The Importance of Being Scandalous Page 21