Heat crept over her cheeks but she nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“And how is your friend with the lovely red hair? I hazard to say she is a maid no longer.”
“No, she is married now. Happily so.”
“Well, good for her. I suspect she will never frequent Sodom again.”
“Ah, that is unlikely,” she hedged, in reference to Rosalie. Her friend would certainly never be returning. She didn’t have the need for such adventures anymore. She was in raptures over her marriage. “I think one visit to Sodom was enough for her.”
Mrs. Bancroft smiled vaguely. “Hm. Indeed. But once was not enough for you. You made quite an impression on your last visit here. Your card game was talked about for months. A few of the gentlemen that you played cards with have inquired about you.”
Before she could respond—perhaps she wasn’t expected to—the proprietress turned down the corridor, motioning at the doors on the left and right. “Do you have any notion of what you’re looking for tonight in the way of entertainment? You may recall that various amusements can be found in specific chambers. Perhaps you prefer to observe in one of our voyeur rooms again?”
Recalling the eyeful she had gotten the last time she was here, heat crawled up her face. She had learned much. Those images had haunted her over the last year.
“Er, no. Perhaps I could mingle about the main room again. Are there still games downstairs?”
“Indeed, yes. Let us see what games we have tonight. Perhaps you will be lucky at cards again.”
The memory of soundly trouncing Max made her grin. Until she recalled that he could possibly be here tonight. Which only made her scowl.
If he was here, it could be only for one reason. It would be so he could enjoy other women. Kiss them and fondle them as he had done with her. Take them to his bed as he had not done with her.
She knew it was contrary of her. She was here for the similar purpose of seeking her own pleasure . . . and yet it signified very little when her heart constricted painfully in her chest. She did not relish the idea of him with another woman.
Shaking her head, she vowed that she would exorcise the man from her thoughts. What happened between them had not affected him. So she wouldn’t let it affect her either. She would indulge herself tonight, and tomorrow she would continue her husband hunt.
Dinner had gone well with Mr. Mackenzie and her family, and Buckston was taking her for a ride in his new phaeton tomorrow. Mackenzie was attractive if not a little intimidating. With young Buckston, there would be little risk—and Mama adored him. There was that.
Aurelia followed Mrs. Bancroft down to the main floor, trying not to feel uncomfortable at the eyes cast her way. She told herself that much of the attention was directed at the mysterious Mrs. Bancroft. Several gentlemen nodded and waved at the masked lady, hoping to gain her attention. All for naught. The proprietress’s gaze did not linger overly long on any one individual, and yet there was no doubt that she took everything in, missing nothing that was occurring amid the walls of her establishment.
“Would you like me to find a spot for you at one of the tables?” She motioned to the room with an elegant sweep of her hand.
“Um, I think I should like to watch for a bit before deciding.” She flashed a reassuring smile. “Don’t let me keep you from your duties.”
“If you’re certain.” Mrs. Bancroft considered her for a long moment, hesitating before leaving Aurelia alone. “Is there not something specific you’re seeking that I could help you with? You seem different from your last visit . . . troubled perhaps?” She folded her slim hands in front of her with an air of patience. As though it were her custom to listen to the woes of her patrons. And it likely was, Aurelia realized.