Chapter Nine
“O ne room?” Anthony stared at the butler in disbelief. It was hard enough resisting Lissa in her revealing dress at the inn. It would be impossible if he must share a room with her.
The butler, who looked to be better suited to a pugilist’s ring than an estate, frowned. “Yes, my lord. Lord Leighhall only accommodates guests in two rooms when there are three people.”
Three people? It took him a moment to understand what that meant, then he quickly recovered. “I understand. You’ll have to excuse me, as this is my first visit to Woburn Manor.”
The man waved over a maid who had to be at least two score. “This way, my lord.”
Anthony held his arm out to Lissa. “Shall we?”
She smiled brightly. “ Oui .”
They ascended the grand staircase, which split, and were guided to the right. He studied the walls, paintings, even the floor beneath their feet. Everything was in good repair, though not lavish.
The maid stopped at a door halfway down a long corridor. “This be your room, my lord. A valet will be sent up with your luggage and will unpack. The viscount is in the billiard room, so when you are ready, you will find him there.”
He thought to ask where the billiard room was, but held his tongue. If he didn’t know, he had an excuse to wander. “Thank you. And will a maid also be arriving?”
The woman’s cheeks colored. “No, my lord. It is the viscount’s custom to only provide a valet.”
Ah, because women were not important, no doubt. “Very well, thank you.”
Rather than discuss their lodging in the hall, he opened the door and stepped to the side, allowing Lissa to enter.
She strode into the room much like she did in trousers. “It’s well appointed, but not in the best taste.”
He closed the door then reviewed the room. He agreed with her assessment. The maroon wallpaper with gold quarter moons and burgundy curtains made it dark. The gold-accented chairs and table in one corner were a dark walnut wood. There was no dressing table, but a full-length mirror in one corner. A single settee, set before the unlit fireplace, had a deep-red cushion and gold accents as well.
Lissa opened the curtains, filling the room with light, which just made it look more like a brothel. “Well, this is interesting.” She lifted what looked like a manacle chained to the headpost of the bed.
Ballocks . She didn’t need to see that. Maybe she didn’t know what it was for. “I’m sure we will find many interesting items here.”
She didn’t answer, instead moving to the armoire to open it. Seeing it clearly empty, she closed it and moved on. He should also detail the room, but he felt a need to be close should she find anything untoward.
At the thought, he grimaced. The whole situation was untoward. When he’d agreed to let her play the role of his mistress, he hadn’t thought they’d be sharing a bedroom. Maybe there was a dressing room he could sleep in.
As she perused a narrow bookcase, which did indeed contain some books, he moved to the other side of the bed, relieved when he found another door. Opening it, he let his eyes adjust to the muted light before moving in and opening the curtain of the narrow window.
With light now streaming in, he turned and stilled. Though the room contained a bathtub, it contained other items for having sex, some of which even he was not familiar with. However, there were enough feathers, whips, ropes, chains, dildos, and clips for him to understand the sexual nature of the room. There was even a sling of sorts anchored to the ceiling that had him imagining many different positions a woman could get into for the pleasure of a man.
Hearing footsteps approaching, he spun and closed the heavy drapes before striding to the door.
“What’s in there?” Lissa lifted her hand in question.
He closed the door behind him. They never lied to each other, but there was no rule that they couldn’t withhold information. “More of the same.” He gestured toward the bed. “And the tub.”
She seemed satisfied with his answer. “This room has a very interesting library. I will say, though, I’m quite pleased there isn’t an embroidery loop to be seen.” She strolled to the bed. “Would you prefer this side or the side by the fireplace?”
As the realization they would need to share a bed filled his head, he swallowed hard. “I’d prefer this side.”
She twirled around and walked to the other side. “Good, as I imagine myself sitting about on the settee in my shift eating sweets.” She flounced upon the cushions and lay back. “No, this doesn’t work with my travel dress and pelisse.” She stood and unbuttoned the front, her back to him. “Would you?”
Having no choice, he strode across the room and lifted it from her back, careful not to look over her shoulder at her chest. Unfortunately, she spun around and took the garment from him. “Since there are no maids, I guess you’ll have to help me on occasion to dress and undress.”
At her words, his stomach tensed. How did his investigation become an assignation?
She opened the armoire then looked over her shoulder. “I wonder why there are no maids. Do you think Leighhall can’t find women to work here, or is he hoping we will all walk about nude?” She turned back to the armoire and hung her pelisse.
Now other parts of his anatomy were reacting to her words. Turning on his heel, he headed for the door. He’d just put his hand upon the knob when she must have seen him.
“Where are you going?”
He forced himself to turn and look at her. She looked like the most beautiful French courtesan a man could want, and he did want her. As if admitting that to himself were the worst of crimes, he stiffened. “I plan to explore before finding the billiard room.”
“What about the valet?”
He forced a shrug. “I’m sure he’ll take care of everything.” Then, without another word, he yanked open the door and closed it behind him. Standing outside the room, he took two deep breaths before heading down the hall away from the stairs. He needed to concentrate on the reason he was in such a predicament to begin with.
There was not much activity in his wing of the house yet, as he confirmed by opening every door. In the hall, he made note of each room, vase, and bust as he strode back to the grand staircase. At the top, he searched the shadows for anyone about. Seeing no movement, he proceeded to the opposite wing. As with the one he’d just left, there didn’t seem to be anyone occupying it at the moment. What he found curious was that every other room was quite typical of what was found on an estate, while the alternating rooms were decorated like they were in a brothel. Was this how Leighhall kept his sex habit a secret from his relatives, by assigning them rooms that were typical?
He came to the last door on the end and turned the knob, but it didn’t open. Locked. Was this Leighhall’s? Stepping back, he paced off the distance between the door and the end of the hall then the length between the door and the next. It had to be.
Crossing the hall to the opposing door, he opened it and found it occupied. A woman with blonde hair lay asleep on a bed beneath the quilt. Two trunks were set on each side of the armoire, but he didn’t stay longer to investigate. Quietly, he backed out, careful to be sure the knob wouldn’t make a sound. He continued down the hall, listening at each door before opening it. He was just one away from the stairs when voices rose as people ascended.
Walking back the way he’d come, he stood before a door as if not sure it was his and waited for those arriving to make the top of the split in the staircase. When the maid moved down the opposite hall, he plastered himself against the wall until the three people entered a room a couple of doors down from where Lissa was. As soon as they were all out of sight, he strode for the stairs and quickly descended. If he were correct, there was only one other guest with Leighhall, and it was the perfect time to make himself known.
However, he made use of his freedom to find the parlor, library, dining room, and ballroom, before approaching the double doors where he’d heard men talking. A maid scurried by as he opened one of the doors. He stepped to the side, immediately taking in the entire room and the two men intent on the ball rolling across the billiard table. As the ball fell into the rope pocket, the shooter, Leighhall, straightened. “I’ll be happy to play you again.”
The other man, taller, thinner, and darker than their host, shook his head. “If I continue to play you, I won’t be able to afford Violet.”
“Ah, come now, Buswick. You know I’ll be quite pleased to take on the patronage of Violet if you can no longer afford her and your wife.”
Buswick grimaced then turned to fill his empty glass.
Anthony strode forward, smiling as if he’d just met his hero. “Lord Leighhall, I cannot tell you how honored I am that you invited me this weekend.” He reached for the man’s hand and pumped it vigorously. “Truly an honor. I’m Baron Bellamore, and I have to say I’m very impressed by your ingenuity. It is truly an honor.”
Leighhall’s blond brows rose over his light-blue eyes. “An honor? Yes, of course. How do you know so much about me? I don’t remember us meeting.”
Anthony tugged his tailcoat down as if he hoped to make a good impression. “No, we did not, but I have admired you from afar—your skill with Ceaser in the Epsom Derby and, if I may be so bold, your many feminine conquests.”
As expected, Leighhall was clearly pleased with such acknowledgment. “It all comes with time. You are barely out of Cambridge, aren’t you?”
“I recently returned from the Continent. I served our country proudly then stayed to enjoy the pleasures.” Anthony leaned in. “One of which I brought with me here.”
“You brought a French strumpet? How intriguing.”
Buswick strolled forward. “Welcome, Baron Bellamore. Whisky?” The earl held out a half-filled glass.
Anthony accepted. “Lord Buswick, I did not know you would be here.”
Buswick’s brow furrowed. “Have we met?”
Anthony waved his hand, well aware they hadn’t met, but also knowing he could convince the man they had. “Most assuredly, at the Stocktons’ end-of-Season ball. I was with Lord Sommerset. We were discussing the sculpture exhibit at the British Museum.”
“Ah, of course. That Stockton event is such a crush, it’s hard to remember everyone. I do apologize.”
He raised his glass toward Buswick. “Not at all. I’m sure we will get along famously here.”
Buswick smiled, clearly pleased, but Leighhall seemed a bit put out, so Anthony quickly turned his attention back to the man. “What gave you the idea to have such an ingenious house party? I must say, I’ve been anticipating it since you sent the invitation. I do hold you in such high esteem.”
As if immediately appeased, Leighhall clapped him on the shoulder. “I had grown bored with the typical house parties where every feminine person is judging you as husband material as if they have a say in their own futures. So I created the type of event I would enjoy most.”
The viscount’s opinion of women didn’t coincide with his success with them. “And is your mistress in residence?” Anthony could imagine the man keeping her close.
Leighhall snorted. “Hardly. I see no reason to spend coin on a woman when I can have my choice for free. For my parties, I simply invite a couple whores to attend and then choose between them as the whim takes me. My appetite cannot be satisfied by just one, so sometimes I take both at the same time.”
Anthony widened his eyes, not because the man had a ménage à trois , but at his attitude. “I do believe I can learn much from you.”
“Of that, I’m quite sure, young Bellamore.”
It didn’t surprise Anthony that Leighhall referred to him as young, as the man appeared close to two score. He was about to ask another question when the doors to the room opened and a gentleman stepped in.
He decided to step aside and observe for a while. As Lord Rothbury spoke to Leighhall, Lord Buswick joined him by the fireplace. “I understand this is your first time here.”
Anthony settled his attention on Buswick. The man was so thin that it appeared a strong gust of wind could knock him over. His long sideburns didn’t detract from the illusion. “It is.”
Buswick took a sip of his drink before continuing. “He doesn’t often invite newcomers. We all prefer this weekend to be kept secret, so much so that we are only invited a few times a year. How did you know of its existence?”
“I admit to eavesdropping.” Anthony held up his hand. “Not purposely, but I have admired the viscount for a while now, with his ability to enjoy his life as he wishes despite the pressures of his title. I believe I can learn much from him.”
“If that’s your concern, simply marry as I did and keep your mistress. Many of us do so.” The man’s tone made it sound as if Anthony were a simpleton.
“Of course, I’m aware of that.” He let his pique be known, not wishing to appear too much of a sycophant. “However, I love Daguette and could not bear to be with another woman.”
The man stilled as he reached for his glass again. “You are faithful to your mistress?”
“I am.” Anthony nodded emphatically, playing the young, besotted lord.
Buswick stared at him oddly. “I do believe you will find this weekend eye opening in many ways.”
That was Anthony’s hope, but in a far different way than the earl was implying. “What should I expect?”
Just then another man entered, whom he recognized as Lord Pemberton. Though he didn’t socialize with the peerage, he’d learned quite a bit about them through the Mabrys and his many times dressing as a footman or coachman. He hadn’t expected Pemberton, since he was a bit older than even Leighhall and had a middle-aged man’s girth.
“Tonight will be a dinner.” Buswick gained his attention once again. “After which we will drink and then join the women for whatever games Leighhall has devised.”
That sounded typical. “And the morrow, do we ride or hunt?”
Buswick grinned, clearly hiding something. “Yes, I do believe you could call it that.”
Not particularly liking the man’s expression, Anthony quickly responded, “Then it will be much like a typical house party but with our mistresses, correct?”
“Not typical in the least. Everything Leighhall plans is sexual. Did you not see your dressing room?”
At the reminder of the room, Anthony swallowed hard. “I did.”
“Then you have an idea of how the time will progress.” Buswick patted him on the shoulder. “I do hope you are well rested, Bellamore.” With that, he moved off to greet another guest who had just entered.
Anthony reviewed the men in the room, the very elite of the ton , and tried to imagine what sexual play would ensue. They all appeared quite typical in demeanor, but obviously this house party would encourage atypical behavior. As intrigued as he was, his investigation took precedence, and he memorized the men in the room. Including himself and Leighhall, there were seven. Were they all involved in Leighhall’s search for ancient weapons, or were they all unaware? If they did rotate throughout the year, could there be one who attended every month and the others didn’t know?
So far, besides them being peers, he noticed no obvious connection between the men. There were Whigs and Tories, those beyond two score and those like himself in their thirties. Each man was far different in physical build than the next. The only two who were relatively close were he and Leighhall. They both had blue eyes, though Anthony’s were a deeper blue, and both had blond hair, though his was darker. They were also both broad in stature and attractive to ladies. That could help him in his supposed admiration, though he felt anything but. What truly stymied him was how Leighhall could attract so many women to bed with such an attitude. The man was proving to be a harder puzzle to solve than Anthony had expected, and he only had three days in which to figure it out.
“Gentlemen.” Leighhall spoke loud enough to interrupt all conversation. “Welcome to Woburn Manor and my house party. It is my pleasure to be your host and allow you the enjoyments you cannot indulge in at other parties.”
Soft chuckles filled the room.
“For those who have been here before, you know there are no rules unless I set them, and then they must be followed. Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of my home and those of your women.”
Lord Rothbury raised his glass to that.
“Dinner will be in a few hours. You may remain here for billiards and bets, or you may return to your mistresses to make the most of the afternoon. The gardens and public rooms are at your disposal for this. Just don’t enter any other bedroom because, well, bedrooms are boring.”
Again, masculine chuckles followed.
“For those who have accepted my invitation for the first time”—Leighhall looked directly at Anthony—“I am happy to answer any questions, and my advice is free.”
“Yes, Leighhall has more advice than all of us combined.” Lord Pemberton laughed at his own wit.
“Well said, Pemberton. Let the pleasures begin.” Leighhall raised his drink before throwing it all back in one swallow.
Anthony took a sip, as many of the other men did.
Two men strode toward the doors immediately, and he followed.
One man turned to the other. “I believe I need to show my demirep the parlor, as it has a writing desk at the perfect height.”
“I’m taking Maria into the ballroom. She has a fondness for balls and hard columns.”
The two men laughed as they strode up the stairs.
Anthony ascended a bit slower, curious that Leighhall would allow everyone to ramble about his house if he did indeed have a secret room. Which raised the question, did he actually have such a room, and if so, was he simply so arrogant he thought it couldn’t be discovered?
Reaching the room he had to share with Lissa, he halted outside the door. Sleeping in the dressing room was out of the question. He had no doubt she’d already discovered what was in there, so that would be far too odd. Though she expected him to sleep in the bed with her, that was also out of the question. He’d just have to sleep on the settee. At least there was one. A number of the rooms he’d investigated earlier had a wingback chair instead.
With that decision made, he opened the door but barely took a step inside before stopping.
“Oh, mon amour . I didn’t expect you back so soon.” Lissa handed the book in her lap to the woman sitting on the settee with her. Then she sauntered forward in her traveling dress that exposed so much of her.
She took his hand. “I did miss you, but look.” She held her other hand out to the woman similarly dressed, only in a deep maroon, her bosom quite large, with a necklace squeezed between her breasts. “This is Delilah. She’s here with Lord Rothbury.”
“For the moment.” Delilah rose and joined them, her gaze roving over his face as if she touched him. “I can see why Daguette is so happy to be here.” The woman turned to Lissa. “Page six, Daguette.” With that, she brushed by them. “I’d best see if Edward has need of me.”
Her tone made it sound as if pleasing her benefactor were a chore, not a pleasure, and he found himself looking over his shoulder as she exited.
Lissa’s hand turning his head back to face her startled him.
“Do not be lusting after women while we’re here. Remember, we’re here for another reason altogether.”
Surprised by her reprimand, he studied her for a moment, almost sure he saw jealousy in her dark eyes, but that couldn’t be. They were friends, despite his inappropriate kiss, and they had other matters than being bedmates to attend to. “I have not forgotten. Is she not happy to be with Lord Rothbury?”
Lissa let go of his head and returned to the settee, where she picked up the book and replaced it on a shelf. “Delilah was duped into believing an earl loved her. She gave him her body only to discover he’d already arranged a marriage contract with another.” She faced him. “This life was not her first choice, but she does what she must to live.”
His own anger surfaced to meet Lissa’s. “Did her family not protest?”
“They couldn’t. She is the one that gave in.” Lissa sat back down on the settee. “This is why I do not wish to be part of this peerage. It is cruel.”
He strode to the settee and sat next to her, giving her one of his charming smiles. “Surely not all of us?”
She wrinkled her nose and slapped his arm. “No, not all of you, Lord Baron.”
Inordinately pleased that she did not count him among the typical aristocracy, he forced himself to keep his gaze on her face. “What did Delilah mean by page six?”
Lissa shrugged. “Just a page in the book we were reading.” She waved her hand toward the bookcase. “It appears all these books are of young women being swept away by passion, though I had only looked at a handful before Delilah knocked.”
He rose and walked around the settee to view the titles. Lady Fancy’s Fall , Pamela’s Plight , and Bea’s Journey to the Brothel did sound rather salacious and repetitive. “Not much variety, I see.” He scanned a few more titles before one book caught his attention— Seven Ways to Pleasure Your Lord . He sincerely hoped Lissa hadn’t seen that one yet. He strolled away from the bookcase as if they were all rather boring, and noticed their trunks by the armoire. “I see the valet unpacked.”
“Hardly.”
At Lissa’s irritated tone, he faced her, again making every effort to only look at her face. “But the trunks are here.” He waved his hand toward them.
She rose and walked to hers. “Yes, they are, but only one is unpacked.” She lifted the lid of her trunk to show it was still full of clothes. “We women are to unpack ourselves, since we are not ladies.”
Though he could see how some men would view their mistresses in such a light, it still rankled. “Would you like me to help you unpack?”
Laughter filled the room. “ Mon ami , I do not think that a good idea.” She reached into the trunk and pulled out a thin shift that could hardly be called such, as it was made of crepe and absolutely sheer.
He swallowed hard, forcing his mind from imagining Lissa in it. “I understand.”
She grinned before folding the garment and setting it back into the trunk. “I am not displeased by the notion of unpacking, as I’m sure you can understand. I was displeased with the attitude of the valet. I imagine he mimics his lord.”
At the mention of Leighhall, Anthony found his mind in a better position to concentrate. “Yes, the man’s attitude toward women is basically contempt, yet he is in so many beds. I’m curious how he does that.”
Lissa closed her trunk and faced him again. “No doubt he hides it well from the ladies. I’m more interested in what he hides within his secret room, if it exists. When can we begin the search?”
“We can do so now. We have three hours until we need be in the dining room. Leighhall gives his guests full access to the house, except to unused bedrooms. Some of the men have already gone to fetch their mistresses and bring them to a particular room. Our viscount doesn’t act like a man with something to hide.”
Lissa rolled her lips in as she thought, which had him waiting for her to release them.
Quickly, he moved to the fireplace to stop looking at her. “I suggest we begin with finding this secret room, if it exists, and searching for these old weapons. If they are well displayed, then he has no need to hide them.”
“Yes. And if we don’t see them, he must hide them.” Lissa strolled toward the bed and sat upon the maroon quilt, which made her stand out all the more in her blue dress. “If he has this secret room, it must be an inside room. If it had windows, it would be far too easy to find.”
He had to admit, she made a good point. “True, if Leighhall is that smart.”
She cocked her head. “I would not underestimate a man who acquires weapons secretly.”
He gave her a nod, wishing she would leave the bed. She was far too enticing in her gown. “If this supposed room is in between others, I would suggest the entrance to be in a place that would be highly unlikely.”
“Like from the kitchen?”
“No, the servants talk too much. I don’t think the entrance would be from the library or billiard room.”
Lissa grabbed the foot post as she sat straighter. “So maybe the parlor or the dining room areas, usually the domain of a wife?”
Even as she said the words, her chest rose with excitement, which he couldn’t ignore. “Yes.” He forced his gaze upward. “Those are two excellent places to start.” Except the parlor was being used. “Let us investigate the dining room.”
She hopped off the bed. “If someone asks why we are there before dinner, we can simply say we were looking for it.”
“As I said, Leighhall invited us to explore, so no need for an excuse.” And if he needed one, he’d just pull her in for a kiss and no one would think twice…except maybe him.