Kate Pearce - Simply Wicked

Anthony tried to look apologetic. “I overslept.”

“You overslept.” Valentin snapped the watch case shut and began to pace the tattered strip of carpet. “That isn’t good enough, Anthony. I run a business here, not a social club for bored aristocrats with nothing better to do with their time.”

Heat rose on Anthony’s cheeks. Trust his brother to come straight to the point. “That’s unfair. I’m always punctual, and I do understand the nature of your business. Hell, I run it when you and Peter are out of town.”

“Until recently I would’ve agreed with you, but in the last three months, you’ve become unreliable. You turn up late, you barely keep your mind on your work and you can’t even remember the names of our clients.” Val stopped pacing and swung around to look at Anthony. “It’s not good enough.”

“This is the first time I’ve been late in over a month! Why are you making so much of it?”

“Because it is a symptom of the whole.”

“What exactly are you trying to say, Val?”

“If you don’t buck up your ideas, I’ll be speaking to Peter about appointing a new deputy.”

Anthony stared down at his clenched hands on the desk. “And what am I supposed to do instead?”

Val sighed. “For God’s sake, Anthony, go back home and enjoy your life of privilege. You’ve worked here for four years and proved your independence to our father. Isn’t it time for you to move on?”

Anthony got to his feet, his eyes level with his half brother. Yet another dismissal. Yet another man who thought him worthless. Anger streamed through him and threatened to submerge his usual common sense.

“Do you think I’m just playing at having a job?”

Val’s eyebrows rose. “I beg your pardon?”

“Do you think you are the only one who can masquerade as a tradesman and yet still be in line for the position of marquis?”

“I don’t want the title. You know that.”

“Easy for you to say when it’s yours, regardless.”

“Do you want it?”

“No! It’s just . . .” Anthony sighed in frustration.

A muscle twitched in Val’s cheek. “Go on.”

“I’ve worked hard for you and I’ve enjoyed every minute. Unlike many of my aristocratic friends, I still have my fortune intact, my health and my wits.”

“I’m not sure about your wits.”

Unease gnawed at Anthony’s gut. “What?”

Valentin held his gaze. “You are late because you spend too much time whoring at Madame’s pleasure house.”

“And you never did that? Strange, I heard your reputation was legendary.”

“I like to fuck, yes, but not like you do.”

Anthony straightened. “And how do you know how I like to fuck?”

“I met Lord Minshom last night. In fact, he deliberately put himself in my way so that I had no choice but to speak to him.”

“So?”

“He told me how much he enjoyed ‘having’ you last night.”

“So?”

Val moved in close. “Dammit, Anthony, that man is a sexual predator of the worst kind. He likes to hurt, to punish and to humiliate.”

“Perhaps he was lying.”

“He wasn’t. This isn’t the first rumor that has reached me about your sexual tastes.”

Anthony found he was trembling, a bone-deep tremor that he couldn’t control. “Did Peter tell you what he saw me doing while you were ‘having’ him?”

Valentin’s face tightened and his hand shot out. Anthony found himself flattened against the wall, Val’s fingers at his throat. Every bruise on his body screamed a protest.

“Peter didn’t tell me anything. And my relationship with him is my own business. This discussion is about you.”

“I am perfectly capable of doing this job.”

Val didn’t release his punishing grip. “Really? Well you have the rest of this month to prove that to me and Peter before we ask you to leave.”

He stepped back and rearranged the sleeve of his navy coat. “I have no wish to tell you how to live your life, but I cannot allow you to ruin my business.”

Anthony cleared his throat. “Nice to see you have your priorities in order, Valentin. Business first, family second. You sound just like our father.”

Valentin’s mouth quirked up in the corner. “For our father, family is business.” He let out his breath. “I have no right to tell you what to do. I can only offer you the benefit of my own experience.”

Anthony stepped away from the wall and resumed his position at his desk. His fingers shook so badly he didn’t dare pick up the pen knife in case he cut himself. He risked a smile at his brother.

“Please don’t, Val. I’ve already had Madame Helene to deal with this morning, and no doubt I’ll be hearing from Peter soon. I’m quite capable of resolving my own mistakes; in fact, I’d already decided to do so.”

Valentin barked a laugh and turned to the door. “That’s what I told myself, and look what a disaster that turned out to be.”

“You have Sara, and a firstborn son. Doesn’t that make you a lucky man?”

Val turned slowly around to stare at Anthony, his fine features for once softer and unguarded. “Yes it does, but I wasted many years denying my true self and what had been done to me.”

“Then if you are at peace with your past, why can’t you believe I will achieve that too?”

Anthony tensed at Valentin’s suddenly shuttered expression.

“I hope you do, brother. I truly hope you do. But allowing a man like Lord Minshom to own you, body and soul, scarcely seems the right way to achieve your aim.”

“He does not own me.”

Valentin’s eyebrows rose. “Perhaps you should tell him that. He sounded remarkably proprietorial.”

Anthony set his jaw and held his brother’s gaze. “Damn you, he does not own me.”

Val bowed and headed for the door. “Then I wish you luck with your new path and hope you do not get led astray again.”

“Thanks, Val. You have nothing to worry about, truly. I’ll be a reformed man.”

His brother’s laugh echoed down the hall as he shut the door. Anthony barely restrained himself from running after him and planting him a facer. How dare his brother have so little faith in his ability to change? How dare he laugh?

Anthony took a deep breath and let it out. He’d prove everyone wrong. He’d become a model citizen, a business man of renown and a noted ladies’ man—as soon as he’d found out what the Delornay twins wanted with him at dinner tonight. A thread of excitement wormed its way through his gloom.

Even at this early hour, the public rooms at the pleasure house were busy. At least forty people were gathered in the large salon, chattering and laughing, anticipating the delights Madame Helene had surely arranged for them. Anthony wondered how many of them frequented the top floor, the place where pain and pleasure blended and all pretenses were stripped away.

With a sense of wary anticipation, he spotted Christian at the buffet table and moved toward him.

“Good evening, Mr. Delornay.”

“Good evening, my lord.” Christian bowed and stepped back. “May I introduce my sister, Lisette?”

Anthony took the proffered hand and kissed it. Lisette Delornay was almost as tall as her brother, her fair hair not quite as blond, her eyes hazel. If the rumors were true, and Anthony had excellent sources, she looked more like her father, Lord Philip Knowles, than her twin did.

Despite her age, her smile was as sensual as her mother’s, and Anthony couldn’t help smiling back.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord.” Lisette gestured at the buffet. “If it pleases you, we will withdraw to our suite and eat privately.”

He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and patted it. “I’m happy to oblige, Miss Delornay. Please lead the way.”

With Christian following along behind, Anthony soon found himself lost in the labyrinth of the big house as Lisette took him through to the more private areas.

“Here we are, my lord.”

Anthony stepped through a doorway into a lavish suite of rooms decorated in pale silver and cream. A table stood in front of the fire laid for three, and an elderly woman rose from the couch to curtsey.

“Good evening, my lord. I’m Mrs. Smith-Porterhouse, Lisette’s chaperone; I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

Not an assignation then if Lisette’s chaperone was nearby. Anthony wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Despite their age, the sexual antics of the Delornay twins were already legendary. Had he hoped to find an escape from Lord Minshom with them? He doubted they’d be able to stand up to the force of his lover’s acerbic personality, but they were Helene’s children after all.

“Lord Anthony?”

He bowed, aware that he’d been staring at Mrs. SmithPorterhouse for far too long.

“My apologies, ma’am, I was woolgathering. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you too, sir.” Mrs. Smith-Porterhouse nodded at Lisette. “I’ll be back in a while to check on you, my dear.”

Lisette looked resigned but not surprised. Anthony reckoned she still had a remarkable amount of freedom for an unmarried woman, but she wasn’t exactly a young lady of the ton. As far as he understood it, her social position was far more ambiguous.

“Please, sit.” Lisette headed for the table and Anthony moved to hold a chair out for her. “Thank you.”

He waited until Christian sat too and then took his place between them. To his surprise, he was actually hungry, so he settled down to enjoy his dinner before entertaining any thoughts about what the twins wanted from him and what he was going to do about it. The Delornays were surprisingly cultured and amusing compared to his younger siblings, and he found himself enjoying their wicked gossip and banter.

By the time the remnants of the second course were removed and he nursed a large glass of brandy in his hands, he was feeling quite benign toward them. He waited until the last servant withdrew and fixed his gaze on Christian.