Simply Wicked. Kate Pearce

an appointment with Valentin at nine.”

      To the sound of Helene’s soft laughter, Anthony sank back down into the bath until his head was under the water. Val was extraordinarily perceptive. One look at Anthony’s face and he would not only demand an explanation for his lateness, but insist on examining his every action for the past week.

      He sensed Helene didn’t believe he meant to change. What did she see in him that made her doubt him? Did he somehow advertise his willingness to be abused on his very countenance? He resurfaced and reached for the cup of coffee Helene had set down for him beside the bath.

      “Would you like me to scrub your back?”

      Anthony’s startled gaze flew to the doorway. Framed against the sunlight stood Christian Delornay, Helene’s son. A permanent fixture for the last year at the pleasure house, seeing as he now lived there and worked for his mother. In the past, Anthony had never paid much attention to him, being far too busy with his own pursuit of sexual excess to worry about another man’s.

      “No, I thank you.”

      Christian shrugged, the gesture eloquent of his French upbringing as was his slightly accented English. From his prone position in the bath, Anthony took Christian’s measure and reckoned they were of similar height, although as he understood it, Christian was only twenty.

      “Are you sure?”

      At Christian’s amused tone, a now familiar burning rage churned in Anthony’s gut.

      “Absolutely, and you can get out as well.”

      “I am perfectly within my rights to be here. This is my mother’s dressing room after all.” Christian moved closer until Anthony was forced to look up at him.

      “You often frequent your mother’s bedroom, do you?”

      Christian smiled. “Unworthy of you, Lord Anthony. Try again.”

      Anthony closed his eyes. “Get out.”

      “I will if you agree to have dinner with me and my sister tonight.”

      “Why would I want to do that?”

      Christian skimmed his fingers along the rim of the bath. Anthony couldn’t take his eyes away from the slow gliding motion.

      “Because I asked? Because you wish me to go away so that you can finish your bath in peace?”

      “All right.”

      “You will come?”

      Anthony glared up at his smiling companion. “I said I would; now get out and shut the door behind you.”

      Christian bowed. “We will see you at seven then in the main salon.”

      As soon as Christian left, Anthony got out of the bath and dressed hurriedly in the plain brown coat, black breeches and matching waistcoat Judd had left for him. If he caught a cab down to the shipping office by the docks, he should still be able to meet Valentin. He paused to check his reflection in the mirror. His lips were a little bruised and swollen, but apart from that, he looked well enough. Lord Minshom was always very careful not to mark his lovers above the neck.

      Anthony hurried up the steps of the Sokorvsky and Howard shipping company and cautiously opened the door to the main office. All seemed serene. He nodded at Taggart the office manager, who frowned and pointed at the clock. With an airy wave, Anthony continued down the hall to the narrow office he inhabited at the back of the two-story building.

      He managed to open the shutters and sit down before his older brother strolled in through the open door.

      “Good morning, Anthony, or should I say good afternoon?”

      Anthony looked up from the quill pen he was pretending to sharpen and into his brother’s face. People always exclaimed over Valentin’s great beauty. Few seemed to notice the intelligence and ruthlessness concealed behind his less-than-amiable violet gaze.

      “Good morning, Valentin. What can I do for you?”

      “Be on time for your appointments?” Valentin took out his pocket watch and studied it. “We were supposed to meet at nine. It is now almost eleven. Where have you been?”

      Anthony tried to look apologetic. “I overslept.”

      “You overslept.” Valentin snapped the watch case shut and began to pace the tattered strip of carpet. “That isn’t good enough, Anthony. I run a business here, not a social club for bored aristocrats with nothing better to do with their time.”

      Heat rose on Anthony’s cheeks. Trust his brother to come straight to the point. “That’s unfair. I’m always punctual, and I do understand the nature of your business. Hell, I run it when you and Peter are out of town.”

      “Until recently I would’ve agreed with you, but in the last three months, you’ve become unreliable. You turn up late, you barely keep your mind on your work and you can’t even remember the names of our clients.” Val stopped pacing and swung around to look at Anthony. “It’s not good enough.”

      “This is the first time I’ve been late in over a month! Why are you making so much of it?”

      “Because it is a symptom of the whole.”

      “What exactly are you trying to say, Val?”

      “If you don’t buck up your ideas, I’ll be speaking to Peter about appointing a new deputy.”

      Anthony stared down at his clenched hands on the desk. “And what am I supposed to do instead?”

      Val sighed. “For God’s sake, Anthony, go back home and enjoy your life of privilege. You’ve worked here for four years and proved your independence to our father. Isn’t it time for you to move on?”

      Anthony got to his feet, his eyes level with his half brother. Yet another dismissal. Yet another man who thought him worthless. Anger streamed through him and threatened to submerge his usual common sense.

      “Do you think I’m just playing at having a job?”

      Val’s eyebrows rose. “I beg your pardon?”

      “Do you think you are the only one who can masquerade as a tradesman and yet still be in line for the position of marquis?”

      “I don’t want the title. You know that.”

      “Easy for you to say when it’s yours, regardless.”

      “Do you want it?”

      “No! It’s just…” Anthony sighed in frustration.

      A muscle twitched in Val’s cheek. “Go on.”

      “I’ve worked hard for you and I’ve enjoyed every minute. Unlike many of my aristocratic friends, I still have my fortune intact, my health and my wits.”

      “I’m not sure about your wits.”

      Unease gnawed at Anthony’s gut. “What?”

      Valentin held his gaze. “You are late because you spend too much time whoring at Madame’s pleasure house.”

      “And you never did that? Strange, I heard your reputation was legendary.”

      “I like to fuck, yes, but not like you do.”

      Anthony straightened. “And how do you know how I like to fuck?”

      “I met Lord Minshom last night. In fact, he deliberately put himself in my way so that I had no choice but to speak to him.”

      “So?”

      “He told me how much he enjoyed ‘having’ you last night.”

      “So?”

      Val moved in close. “Dammit, Anthony, that man is a sexual predator of the worst kind. He likes to hurt, to punish and to humiliate.”

      “Perhaps