Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Romance,
Historical,
Jane Austen,
Regency,
London,
Christmas,
seduction,
League,
Rogues,
Rakes,
wicked
surprised, since Lucien was the best of the Russell brood when it came to correspondence.
“I’ve been a bit preoccupied of late.” It was an understatement, a grand one at that. His study was littered with unopened letters, his mother’s latest one no doubt among the clutter on his desk. Lucien stroked his jaw with his thumb and forefinger. “Does mother expect me to come visit her?”
“Lord, no. Not that she wouldn’t mind, but I think she’s happiest when left alone to torment Linus and Lysandra.” Lawrence chuckled. “They’re both with her now, God help them.”
“What about Cambridge? Surely Linus has finished by now.” A thread of guilt wound through his chest, knotting around his ribs. Had he been so consumed with his own affairs that he’d lost track of his siblings’ lives?
Lawrence gave another shrug. “Only a short while ago.”
“If you are leaving in a few days, you must dine with me tonight.” Lucien’s desire to be left alone had changed, and he hoped his brother would agree. Lawrence would be a welcome distraction and keep him from dwelling on hopeless desires.
Lawrence smiled deviously. “Actually, I have scheduled an evening at the Midnight Garden. You are welcome to join me. Madame Chanson does miss your patronage.”
The Midnight Garden was a discreet club, full of hidden scandals and romantic trysts. The most public secret in London. Madame Chanson tailored it to the needs of any individual, man or woman wealthy enough to pay for membership. She brought in the most beautiful ladies, hired only the most handsome men, and the decadence of the surroundings promised sinful pleasures of all kinds. She’d also acquired the good will and patronage of those necessary to keep it open.
Lucien had, until recently, been a frequent guest of the Garden. But since he had been thrown into Horatia Sheridan’s life once more, and he’d not returned in search of pleasure. The one time he had ended in disappointment on all sides.
Perhaps that is what I need—a naughty tumble to erase the memory of Horatia from my mind. Lucien scraped a palm over his jaw before nodding. “I believe I shall. I’ve been too melancholy of late and my spirits need lifting.”
His brother laughed. “As do other parts of you, I suspect.”
Lucien ignored him. “What time is your engagement?”
“Nine o’clock. You’ll need a mask. Madame Chanson is in a masquerade mood this month and she’s requiring all her patrons to wear them. Rumor has it a delegation from Italy has arrived, and it’s for their benefit.”
Lucien frowned. Did he still have a mask? Surely he did. He had gone to many of those parties at Vauxhall during the Season and a number of them had required masks.
“I’d best go find one.” He started towards the stairs.
“I shall meet you at the Garden then, around nine,” Lawrence called out.
“Felix!” Lucien called out.
The valet popped his head into Lucien’s bedchamber. “My lord?”
“Change of plans. Set out my finest black breeches, black hessians and a black silk shirt. Also, do I still have a black domino mask?”
Felix’s eyebrows rose. “Are we dressing you for a specific occasion, my lord? I was under the impression that abductions were not among your interests.” The valet’s eyes were cool, but Lucien caught the glimmer of amusement there.
Lucien sometimes forgot that what were considered secrets upstairs were sometimes common knowledge downstairs. No doubt he referred to Miss Emily Parr’s adventure some months before.
“Abductions, when done properly, can turn out quite satisfactory. But fear not, Felix, tonight I’m off to the Garden. Madame Chanson requested all guests to wear masks.”
“Ah. The Italians are back, no doubt. Well, you are in luck, my lord. I kept a nice half-face mask that you wore last year. It should look splendid with your chosen outfit this evening.” Felix went to one of the dressers and dug through its contents until he