Free What a Devilish Duke Desires by Vicky Dreiling Page A

bedding a woman. In the past, he’d never had the wherewithal to keep a mistress, but he would certainly enjoy regular bedsport—with the right woman. All he had to do was find a mistress who would suit him. Several gentlemen, including Fitzhugh, had mentioned Mrs. Fleur’s salon. Apparently, she was known for attracting the most elegant and beautiful women of the demimonde to her salon. He decided to call at Mrs. Fleur’s establishment in hopes of finding a beautiful, witty mistress who had a passionate nature.
    Half an hour later, he entered the ornate salon. Everywhere he looked he saw women perched on gentlemen’s laps. A footman topped up brandy glasses as he circulated the room. One woman with short curls plucked the strings of a harp while half a dozen men gazed at her rouged nipples showing through her diaphanous bodice. Any moment, Harry expected their tongues to fall out of their mouths.
    Mrs. Fleur rose to greet him with excessive enthusiasm. She had painted brows and wore gold serpent bracelets on her upper arms. When she smiled, her face powder accentuated the lines bracketing her mouth. “Your Grace, I am delighted you called. London has not been the same during your long absence. I declare I pined for your presence.”
    A year ago, when he had pockets to let, Mrs. Fleur had not been so effusive in her welcome, and he’d struck out. Apparently his recently acquired wealth and title made him far more desirable. Well, his money at any rate.
    “I am so honored you have chosen to attend my humble salon this evening,” she said.
    The gilded chandelier, marble side tables, and Ionic columns hardly counted as humble, but he kept that opinion to himself. Evidently Mrs. Fleur’s salon was flourishing.
    The proprietress took his arm and strolled through the room. “Ah, here are my favorite girls. Your Grace, may I introduce you to Mrs. Roseberg and Mrs. Larkspur?”
    Harry bowed. “I’m pleased to meet you.” He’d forgotten Mrs. Fleur insisted that all of her girls use flowery names, a departure from the usual habit of using a former protector’s surname. He supposed it was for the best. His mother would be horrified if she ever learned a trollop was using “Mrs. Norcliffe” as a nom de guerre.
    Mrs. Fleur clasped her hands. “Mrs. Roseberg and Mrs. Larkspur will be happy to entertain you this evening. I hope they are pleasing to the eye?”
    “Absolutely,” he said. The two lightskirts had evidently dispensed with their shifts and petticoats. He needed no imagination to see every plump curve of breast, thigh, and buttock through their sheer gowns. His blood definitely heated.
    “I wish to ready a private room for you,” Mrs. Fleur said.
    “A private room would suite me.” He envisioned hours of sweaty bedsport, and he’d brought along a French letter for protection.
    “Only the best for Your Grace,” Mrs. Fleur said. “A footman will direct you shortly.”
    Having never been invited to use the private room before, Harry wondered exactly how much the entertainment would cost for the evening. Granted, he had deep pockets, but his objective was to find a mistress. He had no intention of setting up two of them. He figured after sampling both he could discreetly discuss terms with Mrs. Fleur. If he was satisfied, he would direct his attorney to draw up a contract.
    Bedding two strumpets held a certain appeal. Harry had no doubt he would be up for both occasions. Of course, he’d have to return another night to make the proposition. First, he had to ascertain whether either one of them met his expectations.
    “I’d heard you were tall and handsome,” Mrs. Larkspur said, taking his arm and brushing her breast against him. “You have surpassed all that I imagined.”
    “On a five-minute acquaintance?” he said.
    “Your reputation precedes you,” Mrs. Larkspur amended.
    Mrs. Roseberg clutched his other arm. She regarded him with a coquettish expression and squeezed his biceps. “Your Grace