Adrian sank back against the velvet squabs of his very fast carriage, closing his eyes. The shades were pulled down over the windows, shutting out the day, and his cousin Etienne was busy opening a bottle of wine. "You almost left without me, dear boy," he said in a faintly complaining voice, his accent just slight enough to be considered charming. "I hardly think that hospitable. I might have had to beg a ride with one of those dreadful chits that Montague invites. "
"I told you I wanted to leave by dawn," Adrian said with poor grace.
"I don't see what the hurry was. That tiresome creature you trapped yourself with would hardly come chasing after you, would she?"
"I prefer not to talk about it. "
"Indeed, I don't blame you. Though there's something to be said for playing with an amateur for a few hours. But two nights! My boy, you must have been a glutton for punishment. You can just be thankful I made Dormin unlock the door, or it could have gone on even longer. Heaven forbid!" he said with an extravagant Gallic shudder.
"Heaven forbid," Adrian echoed, leaning back and closing his eyes.
"I didn't make a mistake, did I?" Etienne's rich voice was suddenly anxious. "Dear boy, I thought I was rescuing you from a horrid fate. That red-haired Amazon— you must have been desperate to get rid of her. If I thought you actually found the tiresome creature interesting I would have left you alone. "
"I don't," he said, his voice flat. Annoyed that he wanted to defend her, annoyed that he wanted to slam his fist into Etienne's florid face. It was bad enough that his cousin had gotten Dormin to unlock the door; Dormin would pay for that transgression.
Author: Anne Stuart
But with Charlotte sleeping the righteous sleep of one beautifully shagged, he hadn't been able to send Etienne on his way, not without answering a lot of questions he didn't want to think about, even on his own.
“I admit, I was curious about that flame-red hair. Is she worth the trouble? I might ask Lady Whitmore to bring her next time. . . "
"No!" Adrian said sharply. And then he managed a dry laugh. "Truly, Etienne, you would find her tedious beyond measure. She's like any sentimental young thing, full of tears and protestations of love. I had to tie her down to take her. "
"You know I can be quite fond of that kind of sport. "
Adrian kept his face impassive. One of the things he enjoyed most about his father's French cousin was his total lack of conscience. He did what he wanted, with whom he wanted. And Adrian had begun to realize that all he had to do was desire something to ensure that Etienne would go after it. And he didn't want Etienne going after Charlotte Spenser.
He wasn't quite certain why. Why he lied. "You certainly aren't interested in protestations of love, are you?"
"Of course not. In particular, not from someone as charmless as Lady Whitmore's friend. What in the world made you take her in the first place? Oh, yes, I remember. She has the most affecting crush on you, does she not? Always watching you covertly from the back of the ballroom. Clearly this was your semiannual act of charity. "
He'd forgotten he'd ever said anything at all about Charlotte. Etienne's malicious tongue could flay anyone alive, and the sooner he stopped talking about Charlotte the happier he'd be.
''I think I may be assured that her crush has vanished. Now, either talk about something else or let me have some peace. Two days of Charlotte Spenser is enough—I certainly don't want to keep reliving it all the way back to London. "
Etienne leaned back, a faint, amoral smile on his face. "Perhaps you'd rather hear about Lady Alpen and Mrs. Barrymore? You would have been better off joining us, but then I wouldn't have been able to enjoy the pleasure of two such enthusiastic women. "
"I thought you went off with one of the girls from Madame Kate's. " Adrian frowned.
"Oh, I was done with her quite quickly," Etienne said with an airy wave of one exquisite hand. "She was merely to get me in the proper mood. And one can be a bit more insistent with those who are being properly compensated, as doubtless you're aware. I'm not sure that Maria and Helena would have been quite as docile as the whore. " He glanced at his hand, as if seeing an imaginary stain there, and rubbed at it with the edge of his monk's robe.
"And what the hell are you doing dressed up? I thought you despised that sort of thing. "
"I'm always open to new experiences, my boy. I decided if my dear young cousin was going to try something new then I should attempt something as well. " He glanced down at the rough weave of his robe in distaste. "Let us agree to avoid wallowing in the mud in the future, however. These two days have been interesting, but I wouldn't think either of us would want to repeat them, do you?"
"No," Adrian said. "Two days of Charlotte Spenser were quite enough. " At least, they should have been. He'd taken her, over and over again, trying to drain the need from his body. All he'd had to do was brush up against her skin and he'd be hard again. He'd taken her so often, so thoroughly, she'd probably have a difficult time walking for the next few days.
The thought should have amused him. He should share it with Etienne, to convince him how detached he was. Bui in fact the more he'd had Charlotte Spenser the more he wanted her.
He'd been careless, when he was the most careful of men. He'd pulled out each time, but he'd always waited until the last minute, or even beyond. Lina would have enough sense to make sure her cousin drank the tea the Gypsies provided, wouldn't she? He really didn't fancy having that conversation with the countess of Whitmore. She wouldn't like the fact that he'd despoiled her innocent friend. Not when she'd clearly been interested in being on the receiving end of such a despoiling.
When the door had opened a few hours ago, he'd half expected it to be her, demanding Charlotte. But it had been Etienne, amused, mocking, offering him an escape he could hardly refuse.
He closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of Etienne. His parents had disapproved of his friendship with his French cousin, and the stronger his father's disapproval, the more intrigued Adrian had been. It was silly, childish, but inescapable. Francis Rohan, Marquess of Haverstoke, was an imposing figure, and the only man capable of intimidating Adrian. He fought back any way he could.
There were just so many times one could enjoy the controlled madness of drags, the visions of the forest mushrooms, the variations and combinations of sex. He was growing bored of it all. In fact, the two days alone with an unsentimental virgin had been the most exciting thing in his recent memory.
But he couldn't regret leaving her. The longer he was with her the more attached she was likely to become, and that would be miserable for everyone. A quick tear and it would be soonest mended. He couldn't linger over such things.