Free A Season of Ruin by Anna Bradley

with his face.
    He flinched as he ran careful fingers over the dark purple bruise that shadowed his left eye. It hurt like the very devil, but he’d gladly take a fist to the other eye rather than sit through another interrogation by his sisters, or endure more of Lily’s reproachful silences.
    After Pelkey had scraped him up off the floor at Jackson’s, they’d dallied at Tattersall’s all afternoon, then gone to White’s for supper. Lord Archibald had met them there and the three of them had wandered off to the theater to see Miss Bannister play Viola in
Twelfth Night
.
    As soon as they were seated, Pelkey nudged Robyn in the ribs. “Louise Bannister is a saucy little piece, eh?”
    She was. A brunette, too. Robyn had recently decided he preferred brunettes. “Talented, as well.”
    He watched Miss Bannister’s hips sway in her tight costume as she sashayed across the stage. Saucy, indeed, and no doubt easy to please, both in bed and out of it. He needed a good, hard ride. So why not saddle up Louise Bannister?
    Pelkey chortled. “You can be sure her talents aren’t displayed to best advantage on the stage, Sutherland.”
    Her assets were, however, especially in her eunuch’s costume, which clung to those assets like a second skin. Plump, lush assets they were, too. “What say you, Archie?”
    Lord Archibald, whose family seat bordered the Sutherlands’ seat in Kent, was one of Robyn’s oldest and closest friends.
    â€œI’d say the theater manager has taken some shocking liberties with Shakespeare.”
    Robyn rolled his eyes. “About the lady, I mean.”
    Archie surveyed Miss Bannister, his face a mask of indifference. “She’s all yours. I prefer fair-haired women, with blue eyes.”
    â€œThe insipid blond, white-skinned English rose, eh? That’s not very imaginative of you.”
    Archie turned to him with a smirk. “Really? But I’m sure I just read somewhere you like blondes well enough, Robyn.”
    Robyn stretched his long legs out in front of him and leaned back more comfortably in his chair. “No good ever came of
reading
, Archie. Best avoid it, especially the scandal sheets.”
    Archie shrugged and turned his attention back to thestage, where Miss Bannister was on her knees, pleading with her Orsino, her breeches pulled tight across her thighs.
    Archie cleared his throat. “On second thought, Sutherland, perhaps Miss Bannister isn’t a bad choice, after all, since you find yourself with an insatiable appetite for brunettes all of a sudden. She looks to be, ah . . . a
fit
enough specimen.”
    Robyn’s eyes wandered over her arse. She did look fit, for any number of wicked things. So why wasn’t he the least bit interested in fitting her with a saddle and grabbing the nearest riding crop?
    â€œCome now, gentlemen,” Pelkey said. “Cool blondes, sultry brunettes, red-haired vixens—why limit yourself to just one? Or even to one at a time? Lovely ladies of every color, size, and skill await us at the Slippery Eel. Shall we?”
    Archie offered no objection, and it seemed as good an idea as any to Robyn. Once they arrived at the Eel, however, he found none of the ladies on offer there pleased him any more than Louise Bannister had.
    It was a trifle worrying. His eel was usually so accommodating.
    Pelkey, more eager than he was discriminating, had chosen a somewhat battle-weary brown-haired wench. Archie waved off a petite blonde in favor of a bottle of whiskey and a lonely seat on a settee, and there he sat, swilling his drink and smirking at Robyn. “What’s the matter, Sutherland? Can’t find a brunette to your taste this evening?”
    Pelkey snagged the arm of a slender dark-haired woman as she walked by, and gave her a little push toward Robyn. “What’s wrong with this one?”
    Robyn studied the woman’s face. She was pretty