Kate Pearce - Simply Wicked

“Not yet. We wanted to see if you were agreeable first.” Christian looked inquiringly at Anthony.

Anthony allowed a silence to fall before he replied. “Why would she agree to this? What possible reason is there for her to want to change her life?”

Lisette held his gaze. “The same reasons you have. If she doesn’t do something to save herself soon, she will become the kind of woman she has always despised.”

“And what kind of woman is that?”

“One who is afraid.” Christian said softly.

Anthony fought a shiver. Was it fear that held him back from trying a new path? Was he too afraid to step away from the familiar and find himself again?

He nodded abruptly. “I’ll think about what you have said and give you an answer in the morning.”

Anthony made his way back into the center of the pleasure house, his thoughts in chaos. Was it too late to go back, find the twins and tell them he wouldn’t even consider the idea? He paused at the half-opened doorway to one of the more select second-floor rooms where some of Madame’s patrons were enjoying a show. In the center of the room, two men attired in classical Grecian robes, laurel wreaths adorning their heads, were slowly undressing each other.

He moved closer to watch as the drapery fell away to reveal the oiled, muscled chest of one of the men. The second man kissed his way down the line of the fair-skinned man’s sternum, tugging at the material that still covered his loins to reveal his erect cock.

A knot of tension settled low in Anthony’s gut. Had he ever experienced such gentleness while having sex? Or had he just been fucked, his body a tool to be used by others for their enjoyment but never for his? He bit his lip. No, that wasn’t fair. He’d enjoyed the roughness, craved it sometimes, and even begged for it.

“I’m surprised to see you here again tonight. You certainly are a glutton for punishment.”

Anthony gently pulled the door shut. The bruises on his body seemed to throb in response to the softly drawled words spoken by the man behind him. He turned to face Lord Minshom, hands fisted at his sides. His nemesis wore an immaculately cut blue coat and black pantaloons, a diamond glittered in the white cravat at his throat.

“I’m not staying.”

Lord Minshom’s pale blue gaze flicked over Anthony’s groin. “Why not? You’re obviously aroused.”

“Not by you.”

“By that pathetic show in there? Two men acting like women?”

“Two men loving each other.”

“Men don’t love each other. They fuck to gain power, to win, to emerge as the winner.”

“Not all of them.”

Lord Minshom reached out and brushed his thumb over Anthony’s lower lip. The subtle caress made all Anthony’s senses come alive. He swallowed hard as Lord Minshom shoved his thumb into his mouth and moved it back and forth.

“I fuck to win.”

Anthony jerked his head away and swiped his hand over his mouth. “I know. You’ve proved that to me many times.”

“And you didn’t like it? You didn’t beg and plead for more?”

“I was a fool.”

“You are a fool. You can’t change your nature, Sokorvsky. You’ll always be down on your knees begging for it.”

Anthony closed his eyes as Lord Minshom’s hand closed around his cock and squeezed hard. Like a lapdog, he was responding, his shaft growing and thickening at the other man’s demands. He grabbed Lord Minshom’s wrist and wrenched it away from his cock.

“No more. I’m done with you.”

A slow smile illuminated the other man’s face, drawing attention to the exquisite lines of his cheekbones and pale porcelain skin.

“Now that is amusing, Sokorvsky. You, having the nerve to tell me you’ve had enough. I didn’t think you had the balls.”

“Well, think again. I’m done.”

“We’ll see about that. Perhaps I was a little hard on you last night. When you’re feeling better, you’ll be back for more.”

“Don’t patronize me. I mean what I say.”

Lord Minshom bowed, amusement clear in his narrowed eyes. “I’m sure you do—tonight. I’ll see you in a couple of days, naked and bound in the punishment corner, eager to do my bidding as usual.”

He nodded and walked away, leaving Anthony shaking. It seemed that no one believed he was capable of changing. He shoved away from the wall. Damn them all to hell, he’d take Marguerite Lockwood out and show them all how wrong they were.

“You did what?”

Marguerite Lockwood swung around to face her siblings who sat together on the small blue chaise longue in her shadowed drawing room.

“We asked Lord Anthony Sokorvsky to squire you around town.” Lisette tried to look innocent. “Why are you so upset?”

“Because . . .” Marguerite spread her hands wide to express her inability to know where to start. “I don’t need you interfering in my life.”

“You do.” Christian stood up and towered over her. “You’ve been holed up here like a fox avoiding the hounds for almost two years. Isn’t it time you got on with your life?”

Marguerite narrowed her eyes and glared at them. The twins’ self-composure continued to surprise and irritate her. Sometimes she felt as if she were the baby of the family.

“I am quite happy as I am. I enjoy every luxury. I don’t have to worry about paying the rent . . .”

“You never go out.”

Marguerite frowned at her brother. “Of course I go out. I haven’t become a hermit!”

“All right, you never go out with a man.”

“I’m a widow.”

“Whose first marriage lasted barely a month.”

Marguerite clenched her fists so hard her fingernails bit into her flesh. “Why are you being so cruel, Christian?”

He shrugged. “Because we’ve tried everything else and nothing has worked. You hardly ever even lose your temper anymore. We’re all worried about you.”

“A fine way to show you are worried by picking at me.” Marguerite returned to her seat opposite the twins and glared at them.

Christian sighed as he too sat down. “I’m not trying to be cruel. I just want you to go out and enjoy yourself a bit more.”

“With a man I’ve never met?”

“Anthony Sokorvsky is the second son of the Marquis of Stratham and a frequent guest at the pleasure house. He is perfectly respectable.”

“And his presence at the pleasure house is supposed to recommend him to me?”

“Your husband visited Maman’s establishment, and you liked him well enough.”

Marguerite forced herself to ignore that unwelcome reminder and concentrate on the problem at hand. “And why would this Anthony Sokorvsky agree to escort me anyway? Is there something wrong with him?”

“Of course not. Like most young men, he is merely trying to avoid the matchmaking mothers. If he seems to be devoted to you, he hopes they will leave him alone.”

Marguerite stared hard at Christian, aware that he wasn’t quite telling her the truth, but as usual with her wily brother, she was unable to decipher exactly which part was the lie. She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back.

“I still don’t want to go out.”

“Marguerite . . .”

She scowled at them both. “I don’t have to do anything you tell me to.” Now she sounded like they were back in the nursery. “I’m an independent woman.”

“Who never has any fun.”

“I’ll leave that to you two.”

Lisette smiled and reached across to pat Marguerite’s knee. “We just want you to be happy. Will you at least agree to meet him? If you hate him, I promise we’ll stop bothering you.”

Marguerite shrugged off Lisette’s gentle touch. “All right, I’ll meet him if it means you two will stop nagging me.”

“Absolutely.” Christian bowed and turned to help Lisette up. “We’ll bring him for tea today at four.”

Marguerite watched the twins leave, their satisfaction evident on their smiling faces. Silence descended over the house as the front door shut and she was alone again. She smoothed the folds of her lavender gown. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps it was time for her to stop hiding.

With an abrupt movement, she left the drawing room and hurried up the stairs to her bedroom. The miniature of Justin that his mother had reluctantly given her sat on a table beside her four-poster bed. She sat on the quilted cover and picked up the gold frame, scrutinized his ordinary features, the smile in his brown eyes and the subtle curve of his mouth. She touched the cold glass with a fingertip and then set the miniature on the pillow.

It was becoming harder to remember what Justin had really been like. His warmth, his beauty, the feel of him naked in her arms, moving over her, inside her. Marguerite shuddered as she contemplated her perfectly made bed. So cold now, so lonely after experiencing a man’s love.

Maman had tactfully suggested Marguerite take advantage of the joys offered at the pleasure house. At first, she hadn’t been able to bear the thought of another man touching her or even watching anyone else enjoy what she could not. Now . . . she felt as empty as a dried-up lake. She stared at the frozen image of her husband. Would Justin understand that? Would he want her to be happy again?

She snatched up the portrait and kissed it, then she laughed at her own stupidity. Perhaps she was a little bored, but there was no need for such anxiety yet. She’d only agreed to meet Lord Anthony Sokorvsky, not go to bed with him. In a swirl of petticoats, she got up and hurried to find her bonnet and pelisse.

A long-overdue visit to her mama-in-law would remind her of where her true loyalties lay and seemed an excellent way to fill the time before she had to return for tea.

“Marguerite, my dear, do sit down.”

To Marguerite’s surprise, Lady Lockwood almost looked pleased to see her. She’d expected a scolding, or at least a show of indifference because of her recent neglect. She settled herself into a chair opposite her mama-in-law and mentally reviewed a list of excuses as to why she hadn’t bothered to come and visit.

If she were honest, she’d admit that Lady Lockwood had never made her welcome, had, in truth, tried to deny that her marriage to Justin was legal. If it hadn’t been for Maman and her powerful friends, Marguerite wouldn’t have received even the reluctant recognition she had achieved or the financial compensation necessary to live like the widow of a wealthy husband.

“Have you come to celebrate with us?”

Marguerite smiled automatically as Lady Lockwood handed her a cup of tea. “Celebrate what?”

Color flooded Lady Lockwood’s cheeks. “Oh, I do apologize. I thought you must have heard the news about Charles and Amelia.”

“Your son, Charles?”

“Indeed.” Lady Lockwood smiled even more brilliantly. “He and Amelia are expecting a child!”

Even as her stomach tightened, Marguerite schooled her features into an expression of delight. “That is wonderful news. You will have your first grandchild.”

As Lady Lockwood continued to chatter, Marguerite struggled with a series of emotions she hadn’t expected. Justin had been the oldest son, the one expected to inherit the title, to provide the heir, to take on the family responsibilities. And as his wife, those responsibilities would’ve been hers as well.

Did she want a child? Was she jealous? It seemed that she was. As she continued to listen to Lady Lockwood, Marguerite realized that not only was she losing sight of Justin, but that it seemed his family was as well. His younger brother would succeed to all his titles, give his parents their first grandchild and slowly but surely eclipse Justin until he was just a memory.

And it was all her fault.

After the obligatory twenty minutes, Marguerite stood up, kissed Lady Lockwood on the cheek and headed slowly down the wide staircase. Now she understood why her mama-in-law had treated her so kindly. She had become as unnecessary as her deceased husband, with no further part to play in the Lockwood dynastic ambitions. With a child on the way, it seemed that even the old resentments could be let go.

As she emerged from the grand mansion, a light drizzle caught at her face and made her blink. Did that make her obligation to remember and honor Justin less valid? No, she would never forget him. But perhaps it gave her the opportunity to move on without the oppressive weight of the Lockwood family’s ruined expectations on her shoulders.

She nodded to the driver and stepped into the cab. Maybe her meeting with Lord Anthony Sokorvsky would be more interesting than she’d thought.

By the time the dainty clock on her mantelpiece chimed four times, Marguerite’s nerves had not only returned but multiplied. Why exactly had she let the twins tell her what to do again? She couldn’t understand it. Somehow they seemed to undermine her defenses without even trying. She smoothed down the silk skirts of her favorite blue dress and walked back to the window.