His two youngest uncles, Tony and James, were the perfect examples of the wiseness of that opinion. They’d been two of London’s most notorious rakes in their day, had sowed their oats long and well, and hadn’t settled down to raise families until their mid-thirties. Having Jeremy, James’s illegitimate eighteen-year-old son, wasn’t considered raising a family early, since he was conceived without the sanctity of marriage—just like Derek was. Besides, in Jeremy’s case, Uncle James hadn’t even known of his existence until a few years before.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jeremy remarked on the subject in all seriousness. “I can debauch as well as anyone, and I do it normally.”
“You know what I mean,” Percy replied, gazing warily about the foyer and up the stairs, as if he expected the devil himself to appear. “Some mighty queer chaps known to frequent this establishment.”
Derek raised a golden brow at that, scoffing, “I’ve been here a few times now, Percy, to gamble and to avail m’self of one of the rooms upstairs—and its occupant. Didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. And recognized most of the chaps here.”
“Didn’t say everyone who comes here is weird, old man. Gad, no. We’re here, aren’t we?”
Jeremy couldn’t resist. “You mean we’re not weird? Hells bells, I could’ve sworn—”
“Be quiet, scamp,” Derek cut in, succeeding, just barely, to hold back his laughter. “Our friend here appears to be quite serious.”
Percy nodded emphatically. “Indeed I am. They say any fetish or fantasy can be found here, no matter how bizarre one’s particular tastes run. And I believe it now, having seen Lord Ashford’s driver outside. Would be afraid a girl here would hand me some chains the minute I walk in her room,” and he shuddered.
The name Ashford brought an abrupt end to Derek’s humor, as well as Jeremy’s. They’d all three had a run-in with the fellow a few months before in one of the taverns down by the river, having been drawn by a woman’s terrified screams to one of the upstairs bedrooms.
“Isn’t that the fellow I beat senseless not so long ago?” Jeremy asked.
“Beg to differ, dear boy,” Percy replied. “It was Derek here who beat the lout senseless. Didn’t give either of us much of a chance at it, furious as he was. You did get a kick or two in after he was out for the count, though, as I recall. Come to think of it, so did I.”
“Glad to hear it.” Jeremy nodded. “Must have been foxed not to have remembered that.”
“You were. We all were. And a good thing, too, or we might have killed the bloody sod.”
“No more than he would have deserved,” Derek mumbled. “The man’s thoroughly demented. No other excuse for that kind of cruelty.”
“Oh, I agree, indeed I do,” Percy said, and then in a whisper, “I’ve even heard that without the blood, he can’t—well, you know…”
Trust Percy to lighten the mood. Derek actually burst out laughing. “Good God, man, we’re in the most notorious brothel in town. No need to quibble words here.”
Percy actually blushed before he grumbled, “Well, I still want to know what we’re doing here. The things they cater to in this house are simply not my cup of tea.”
“Mine either,” Derek agreed. “But as I said before, that isn’t all that goes on here. They may cater to the depraved, but the girls here can still appreciate a nice, normal tumble when that’s all that’s required of them. Besides, we’re here because Jeremy found out his little blonde Florence from Angela’s establishment has moved here, and I promised him an hour or so with her before we show up at that ball we’re due to make an appearance at later. Could have sworn I already mentioned that, Percy.”
“Don’t recall,” Percy said. “Not to say you didn’t, just don’t recall.”
But Jeremy was frowning now. “If this place is as bad as you say, don’t think I want my Florence working here.”
“So cart her back to Angela’s,” Derek suggested reasonably. “The chit will likely thank you for it. Couldn’t have known what she was getting into, even if she was promised more earnings here.”
Percy nodded once in agreement. “And do be quick about it, dear boy. Can’t say as I care to even play a few hands here while you find the gel. Not if Ashford is in the same bloody room.” Yet he walked over to glance into the gambling den while he said it. Then with a bit of excitement, “Oh, I say, now there’s a little bird I wouldn’t mind spending an hour or so with, even here. But looks like she ain’t available, more’s the pity—or maybe she is. No, she ain’t. Much too costly for my tastes.”