His Temporary Mistress

by Bethany Sefchick

  So Dory had gone to the club. Dionysus. The one with the infamous Peacock Door, simply hoping to be seen – by him.

  Somehow, against all of the odds, he had seen her. In fact, he had more than seen her. He had approached her, been captivated by her – or so he claimed. And it had been magnificent. No. More than magnificent. It had been magic.

  It had also only been one night. One dance to begin the madness followed by two more. That had been enough, though, to spark the attraction even though she hadn’t known it at the time.

  Did he remember her now? It had been a week, after all, and likely hundreds of women, many far more beautiful than her, had passed in front of him.

  Lord Raven had choices, even if Dory herself did not.

  She would not blame him if he forgot her.

  She was rather forgettable, and he would not be the first man to cease to remember that she existed once she was out of his sight.

  Still, she hoped that wasn’t the case.

  She didn’t want it to be the case.

  Because for the first time in her life, Dory was in love.

  Or possibly in lust. At this point, it was difficult to tell.

  Though lust made more sense, because who fell in love at first sight? Idiots and women in Minerva Press books, that was who.

  Still, she felt. Oh, did she feel! It was more than feeling, though. It was burning.

  A burning unlike any she had known. Ever. A burning that woke her up in a cold sweat at night and distracted her with pinpricks of desire during the day. A burning that made her heart flutter and her stomach clench when she thought about him.

  About the way he talked to her and laughed with her. The way he listened to her. That was the most magical thing of all, really.

  And Dory didn’t know what to do about that desire or how to make this ache inside of her go away.

  What Dory did know for certain was that for the first time in her life, she had an inkling of what true passion might feel like. And it was nothing at all like what she felt with Harry.

  This feeling was different. It was more – of everything. More powerful and more overwhelming. More all-consuming. More heated.

  This sensation filling her body and soul made her feel as if she was sparkling from within, her own source of light instead of waiting around for someone to provide the light for her.

  Because of him.

  But what if he didn’t feel the same?

  Then again, what if he did?

  After all, they didn’t even know each other’s names. Well, she knew his. Everyone did. She doubted that he knew hers. She didn’t have a name that was important enough for him to know.

  Would he ever know it? Would he ever want to?

  She couldn’t be certain. But she could hope. A lot.

  “Lady Peacock. You’ve returned.” His voice slid down her spine like a caress, making her tingle all over.

  His raven’s eyes, deep-set in the mask he wore and bejeweled with tiny diamonds, looked down at her. His lips wore a smile and it was all Dory could do not to swoon.

  The air crackled between them and she had to stop from throwing herself into his arms for a kiss.

  But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t risk the rejection.

  She was a hellion. Not hell-bent on her own destruction.

  “I promised you that I would come back. You asked me to, remember?” Lord, she hoped that he remembered.

  Lord Raven’s smile widened into a grin and the air crackled with energy again. “I did, but I wasn’t certain you would do as I asked. Or if you even could.”

  In truth, Dory would have walked over hot coals to return to this gaming hell tonight. The night of the decadent, sensual masquerade ball.

  She had bluffed her way inside the first time. Now, she held a permanent invitation. It was an invitation she would not refuse, no matter what subterfuge she had to resort to in order to be here.

  “It isn’t easy.” She wouldn’t lie to him. It wasn’t in her nature.

  “Husband?” His gaze was uneasy now.

  “No.” She shook her head quickly. “There is no one. Just a mother who occasionally remembers that I am alive. But that still doesn’t mean slipping away is easy. My world binds my movements, but then, I think you know that.”

  “I do. Still, you’re here and without attachment. Good. That’s good.” Lord Raven seemed relieved and Dory relaxed a little. “I was worried.”

  “You shouldn’t be. There is no man in my life that is more than a friend. I am not certain there will ever be.”

  “You’re wrong, Lady Peacock,” he countered, his voice sensual. “There will be. One day.”

  After that, he fell silent again, but she wasn’t surprised.

  They hadn’t talked much the last time. They had simply danced.

  Three times, though, which in Dory’s mind meant he was at least intrigued enough to want to get to know her. At least a little.

  She wanted to get to know him as well.

  She knew and had felt the attraction that sparked between them. That was the physical.

  But did he see the possibility of more with her? Even if it was only within these walls? Dory didn’t know, but she hoped so.

  This was stupid, really. Foolish. Idiotic. She knew better.

  People did not fall in love in the span of a single glance. Without really speaking of anything significant. Without even knowing the other person’s name.

  Or did they? Mama had often said she became enamored of Papa in a single dance so it could happen. True, Papa had been a worthless reprobate, but not all men were.

  Was this man like her father? Dory didn’t think so. Her instincts told her he was not, anyway.

  Those same instincts also told her that he wanted her, which was just fine because she wanted him.

  For the first time in her life, Dory was ready to shed every last bit of propriety and leap into this man’s arms. Let him do with her as he wished. Including bedding her.

  It was stupid. It was foolish. It was idiotic.

  It was rash. It was a mistake.

  But it was also the way she felt.

  Dory wanted this man. She couldn’t have him. But she could dream.

  She could live in a fantasy world for a bit where maybe, in time, this overwhelming passion she felt for him would fade.

  Maybe, once they talked, she wouldn’t even like him as much as she thought she did. Perhaps he was an excellent dancer and not much else. Perhaps it was an idiot without a brain in his head.

  Perhaps. But her instincts told her otherwise.

  Was she willing to risk it? Was she willing to risk her reputation, her family, the man whom she might marry someday if he felt like it? All for this man and for something that might very well be an illusion?

  Yes. Yes, she was.

  As long as he was willing to do the same.

  She had returned. His Lady Peacock was here again tonight. A week after her first, completely unexpected appearance.

  He wasn’t certain what god or fate had blessed him in this way, but he would thank them all for bringing her back to him.

  He had spent that first night utterly enraptured by her, commanding all of her attention so that no one else would have an opportunity to be charmed by the delectable Lady Peacock.

  She was his and his alone. He wanted her. No one else could have her.

  If she came back to him – and to Dionysus – that was.

  Jeremy hadn’t really believed she would return after that first night, though he had hoped she would.

  She would have to be a fool do to so, really. He was not worth the risk. He never had been nor would he ever be.

  So, was she a fool or did she just want to see him again?

  Jeremy hoped and prayed it was the latter. It seemed that it was. She was here with him, wasn’t she? And no one else.

  And the fact that she came back for him? It warmed a place inside of him that he hadn’t even realized had gone cold. But it had. Long
ago. Without him ever realizing it.

  Now, with a single smile from her, his lovely Lady Peacock, that place inside of him warmed.

  That was something no harlot or whore or bored widow had ever managed, no matter how hard they had tried. And most of them had tried. In many different ways.

  This woman, though, was different. If only he could have her. But he couldn’t.

  They came from the same world and yet they were still so very far apart.

  Still, she was here. She came back. For him. That was what mattered just now.

  God, she was just as exquisite as he had remembered. Perhaps more so now that he saw her again.

  Jeremy was not in the habit of forgetting details or conflating them in his mind.

  But in this case? He was certain he had. Except he hadn’t.

  Lady Peacock was just as perfect – and perfectly lovely – as he remembered.

  But she couldn’t be. This had to be an illusion.

  He didn’t even know this woman’s name for God’s sake!

  Well, yes, he did know her name, but he would never speak it. At least not here. Coming from the world she did? She wasn’t for him. She might be the sort of lady he wanted, but he couldn’t have her.

  He wasn’t that much of a fool.

  But if he could pick a woman, any woman, from the face of this earth?

  He would choose her each and every time.

  Why? Because she had, in a single touch, ignited something inside of him that he hadn’t known he could feel. Something powerful and all-consuming.

  Something that made him burn with want and yearn with need. Something that reached into his jaded soul and shook him back to life.

  Something that scared him. Mostly because he didn’t know what this powerful feeling was or how to control it.

  Something more powerful than he imagined could exist.

  And all it had taken to ignite that spark was one touch from her to bring that power to life.

  They had shared a dance. Well, three dances, really. In a more proper setting? After that kind of display? Lady Peacock and Jeremy would be all but betrothed. Not here, though, in the shadow world where they danced. Where masks hid their faces and they could reveal their true selves.

  And that had done that – to a point.

  They had exchanged some words. Laughed. She had hinted that she wasn’t like other women, something he had already guessed. He had hinted that he was beyond intrigued and said he wanted to see her again.

  But they hadn’t kissed or touched or made any promises to each other.

  They had simply talked.

  That was it.

  Then she left. Regret burning brightly in her eyes. Desire, too.

  Desire for him. Raw and hungry and yes, powerful. The same as the powerful feeling that had roared to life within him the moment he saw her.

  It was alive inside her too.

  Matched. Together. That had never happened before. He never imagined it could.

  He had been intrigued. More than that. Captivated.

  He had also burned with need. For the first time in his life, Jeremy felt his body go up in flames, just from looks and not from touches.

  What was wrong with him?

  Nothing, it seemed. Nothing was wrong with him.

  Except that he couldn’t have her.

  And he wanted her.

  It made no sense.

  There were other women he couldn’t have and he didn’t desire them. Not the way he desired her.

  “You give me more credit than I deserve, Lord Raven.” Jeremy thought he could see a pretty blush creeping up her cheeks. “I am not the sort of lady a gentleman desires.”

  An innocent then, as he had suspected, especially given who she was.

  On the other hand, she had been seen in the company of that Runner who was several years her senior. He could be passionate, or so the rumors went. When inspired.

  That the Runner had not touched this magnificent creature? The very one who made Jeremy’s blood boil with lust? Meant his lovely peacock and the other man were not well-matched. For if this woman was his? She would be naked in his bed every hour of every day, his cock thrusting inside of her as he worshiped her as she deserved.

  And even that might not be enough to sate Jeremy’s desire for her.

  His Lady Peacock might be an innocent, but she was still the most delectable creature he had ever met.

  What in the hell was wrong with him?

  He didn’t dally with innocents, nor had he ever wanted to.

  Well, that wasn’t quite true. He wanted her and she was an innocent.

  Again, what was wrong with him?

  “You do not give yourself enough credit, Lady Peacock,” he countered. “You are more desirable than I think you know.”

  Couldn’t she see that she was making him hard with lust? Couldn’t she see his erection straining against his trousers? Lord knows, everyone else in this place probably could.

  “Thank you, though I am not inclined to believe you.” This time he was certain she blushed. “But you had to know I would come back. I promised you that I would.”

  Actually, Jeremy didn’t know any such thing. In his experience, women were fickle creatures.

  But not his peacock, apparently. She was different.

  He wasn’t certain how he knew. He simply did.

  “I’m glad you kept your promise, Lady Peacock.”

  “So am I, Lord Raven.”

  He reached for her now and she came to him easily, her hand into his. No resistance. No question.

  She wanted him, too. He could tell.

  She probably didn’t know what to do with that desire, especially if behind the mask, she was whom he suspected – no, who he knew – she really was.

  But she still felt that desire and it could and would still consume her.

  If she allowed it. If he allowed it.

  He could stop this. He could walk away.

  He was Lord Raven. This was his club. His playground to do as he pleased.

  Except that he didn’t want to walk away, even though he couldn’t say why.

  Something was pulling him to her. Something deep and powerful and unlike anything he had ever felt before.

  It might not last, this feeling inside of him.

  It also might not come again.

  So, what choice did he have, really?

  None, he supposed.

  “Would you like to dance, my lady?” Jeremy knew the answer before he even asked the question.

  “More than you could possibly know.” Her brilliant blue eyes sparkled beneath her mask and Jeremy was lost.

  “Oh, I think I know.” Especially if she was feeling even a fraction of what Jeremy was.

  “I hope you do.” She paused and tilted her head to the side. “You scare me, Lord Raven. A little. But in a good way.”

  “You scare me too. A little. Also in a good way.” Because for Jeremy, that was the truth. A truth he felt down into his soul.

  For the first time in his life, he had met a woman he couldn’t resist and they had barely said more than a hundred words to each other, give or take.

  In reality, they had shared so little, but inside? They had shared more than either of them probably knew.

  It was too quick. It made no sense.

  And yet, there it was.

  This feeling that he couldn’t shake. This craving for her – all of her – that had haunted him all week.

  It was insane. This was insane.

  She was insane. Or perhaps he was.

  In the end, it didn’t matter.

  She made him feel.

  With her silence and her smile and her scant few words, his peacock had made him feel. And Jeremy was grateful.

  And he also never wanted to let her go.

  Which was impossible.

  They both knew it, of course.

  But she didn’t have to go yet.

  The Season wasn’t over.

  They s
till had time.

  Not forever, of course, but a few weeks.

  Because nothing in Jeremy’s life lasted forever.

  Everything was always temporary.

  Why shouldn’t she be as well?

  Even if he didn’t want her to be.

  Chapter Two

  Early April 1821

  London

  You no longer know me, Harry. I’m not certain you ever did. But you could again. Please, just come with me to Dionysus, and I shall try to explain. There is someone you need to meet. Perhaps if you did, you would understand. Or I would. It is ever so complicated, and I am not certain I can explain it all myself, but I wish to try.

  I know I have called you old and a curmudgeon and worse, but Harry? We are friends. Or at least we were, and this is all so very confusing. Please, Harry. I need your help.

  And if you won’t give it? Then I am going without you. Alone. And you cannot stop me.

  Pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she was handed down from the carriage, Lady Dorothea Tillsbury – or simply Dory to her friends – risked a backward glance to make certain she wasn’t being followed, particularly since she was at the doors of her destination. Her words, spoken in anger in Lady Covington’s entrance hall earlier this evening, were still ringing in her ears, though she did her best to push them aside so she could concentrate on the moment at hand. She could not be seen! She absolutely could not be!

  Not yet, anyway…

  As always, the alley in back of the club was dark and deserted, save for two small brass lamps which glowed faintly from where they were affixed to the wrought-iron pillars at either end of the enormous, red brick building. The candles inside had nearly burned down to stubs, but they still cast enough light for her to see. Shadows flickered along the alley walls and a thin tabby cat scurried past, obviously in a hurry to be somewhere else. Somewhere where the shadows moved.

  Nothing else dared to move here, of course, though that was probably because of the series of guards disguised as vagrants that Dory’s carriage had passed by on her way here. The guards wouldn’t stop the carriages. Oh, no. If the vehicle’s occupants were not supposed to be here? There were other checkpoints where they would be stopped and told to go home. Out on the street where someone might see? Where prying, curious eyes might seek out a bit of gossip? Not a chance.