He smiled as he thought of his candles. Even though
it was illegal to make your own, and indeed one of his peers had recently been
prosecuted, Tony had no such qualms. If ever he had the chance to decorate a
willing partner again, the candles would be made and tested by him, no one
else. He had no intention of submitting the tender skin of a sub to something
he couldn't say, with all honesty, was safe and any marks would be short lived.
It was one thing to mark the skin in a sensual way, another to scar for life.
He took the steps to his town house two at a time,
and grinned as the door opened before he reached it. Ashton, his doorman had
that knack.
"My Lord, there is a young lady waiting to see
you. She declined to give her name. She isn't a," he coughed, "a
ladybird, or someone inferior, my lord. Definitely a lady of
quality. However, she is unaccompanied. I've left her in the blue salon. With a dish of tea." Ashton's nose wrinkled.
Whether because of unaccompanied young ladies or the tea, Tony wasn't sure.
"Then bring me some ale, please, and I'll see
who it is." He removed his cloak and hat and checked his cravat and
ruffles were as they should be. Satisfied, he turned toward the door of the
blue salon. He searched his mind as to who could possibly be so prepared for a scandal
as to visit him alone in his home. Unless it was a ruse, to put him in a
compromising position…? Tony was under no illusions about how good a catch he was.
The months since he’d returned to England had shown him that.
"Ashton?"
The doorman stopped walking and looked at Tony
enquiringly. “Sir?”
"Do not let anyone in. In
case." He waved toward the room he was about to enter.
"Ah." Ashton nodded. "I have taken
the liberty of securing all doors and putting the potboy into the garden with
order to shout if anyone approaches. You won't be coerced into the parson's
mousetrap whilst we're around."
"Good. Did you recognize the lady?"
Ashton shook his head. "She has a loo mask on. And her hood tight around her face."
That figures. Now I'm
intrigued. Perhaps that is my Mystery Lady's intention? Tony put his hand on
the door handle and paused.
"But I’d bet my last groat she is a redhead.
Has the skin," Ashton said before he disappeared along the corridor toward
the butler's pantry and the ale.
Tony listened intently. He couldn't hear any noise
from inside the blue salon. Slowly, he pushed the door open and walked inside
the room.
The lady sitting on the edge of the velvet chaise
looked up and swallowed. Behind the mask, green eyes glittered, before she
dropped her eyelids and folded her hands in her lap. Between it and her hood,
tendrils of deep red hair showed.
Submissive
or embarrassed?
As
much as I would hope for the former, no doubt 'tis the latter.
"My lady?" Tony bowed and she
did a shuffle-bob without getting up. It amused him. Did she think he would
discover her identity through a curtsey? "I fear you have the advantage.
You know me, and why you are here. I neither know you nor the purpose of your
visit. Perhaps you could change that?"
"Yes, if you promise not to divulge to anyone of my visit." The voice was melodic but
too low for Tony to place it. The accent was definitely of a lady of quality,
and what little inflection he heard showed it was a youngish girl speaking. Definitely not a dowager. She shifted on the seat, and he
glimpsed a well-turned ankle as her gown flowed around her. No, definitely no dowager. Tony was a connoisseur of well-turned
ankles. Preferably shackled.
"As long as it's legal, I see no reason why our
business is anyone else's," Tony said, and waited as she wriggled around
again. This time it annoyed him.
"Sit still." He snapped the words out. "Look
at me. And take that damned mask off. The only mask I'll allow is one where you
see nothing and I see it all." He could have hit himself. Annoyed or not, it
was a stupid thing to say. Guaranteed to make his guest run
off screaming pervert and debauchery .
it was illegal to make your own, and indeed one of his peers had recently been
prosecuted, Tony had no such qualms. If ever he had the chance to decorate a
willing partner again, the candles would be made and tested by him, no one
else. He had no intention of submitting the tender skin of a sub to something
he couldn't say, with all honesty, was safe and any marks would be short lived.
It was one thing to mark the skin in a sensual way, another to scar for life.
He took the steps to his town house two at a time,
and grinned as the door opened before he reached it. Ashton, his doorman had
that knack.
"My Lord, there is a young lady waiting to see
you. She declined to give her name. She isn't a," he coughed, "a
ladybird, or someone inferior, my lord. Definitely a lady of
quality. However, she is unaccompanied. I've left her in the blue salon. With a dish of tea." Ashton's nose wrinkled.
Whether because of unaccompanied young ladies or the tea, Tony wasn't sure.
"Then bring me some ale, please, and I'll see
who it is." He removed his cloak and hat and checked his cravat and
ruffles were as they should be. Satisfied, he turned toward the door of the
blue salon. He searched his mind as to who could possibly be so prepared for a scandal
as to visit him alone in his home. Unless it was a ruse, to put him in a
compromising position…? Tony was under no illusions about how good a catch he was.
The months since he’d returned to England had shown him that.
"Ashton?"
The doorman stopped walking and looked at Tony
enquiringly. “Sir?”
"Do not let anyone in. In
case." He waved toward the room he was about to enter.
"Ah." Ashton nodded. "I have taken
the liberty of securing all doors and putting the potboy into the garden with
order to shout if anyone approaches. You won't be coerced into the parson's
mousetrap whilst we're around."
"Good. Did you recognize the lady?"
Ashton shook his head. "She has a loo mask on. And her hood tight around her face."
That figures. Now I'm
intrigued. Perhaps that is my Mystery Lady's intention? Tony put his hand on
the door handle and paused.
"But I’d bet my last groat she is a redhead.
Has the skin," Ashton said before he disappeared along the corridor toward
the butler's pantry and the ale.
Tony listened intently. He couldn't hear any noise
from inside the blue salon. Slowly, he pushed the door open and walked inside
the room.
The lady sitting on the edge of the velvet chaise
looked up and swallowed. Behind the mask, green eyes glittered, before she
dropped her eyelids and folded her hands in her lap. Between it and her hood,
tendrils of deep red hair showed.
Submissive
or embarrassed?
As
much as I would hope for the former, no doubt 'tis the latter.
"My lady?" Tony bowed and she
did a shuffle-bob without getting up. It amused him. Did she think he would
discover her identity through a curtsey? "I fear you have the advantage.
You know me, and why you are here. I neither know you nor the purpose of your
visit. Perhaps you could change that?"
"Yes, if you promise not to divulge to anyone of my visit." The voice was melodic but
too low for Tony to place it. The accent was definitely of a lady of quality,
and what little inflection he heard showed it was a youngish girl speaking. Definitely not a dowager. She shifted on the seat, and he
glimpsed a well-turned ankle as her gown flowed around her. No, definitely no dowager. Tony was a connoisseur of well-turned
ankles. Preferably shackled.
"As long as it's legal, I see no reason why our
business is anyone else's," Tony said, and waited as she wriggled around
again. This time it annoyed him.
"Sit still." He snapped the words out. "Look
at me. And take that damned mask off. The only mask I'll allow is one where you
see nothing and I see it all." He could have hit himself. Annoyed or not, it
was a stupid thing to say. Guaranteed to make his guest run
off screaming pervert and debauchery .
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