She was certainly standing in a den of sin and decadence, and she was about to have a private audience with the man who lorded over it.
She was definitely out of her element.
…
Lucan still could not credit that Constance was in his club. When Thomas had informed Lucan that a Miss Desiree Hastings was here to see him he had stuttered. His factotum in turn had been intrigued that a woman had rendered Lucan to such a state.
Not even a few seconds had passed when Ainsley strolled into the office.
“Lady Constance—”
“Thomas informed me,” Lucan snapped.
Ainsley smiled. “You need to get down there soon. The lady is oblivious, but I have seen more than a few curious looks aimed her way, hungry looks,” he drawled.
Ignoring him, Lucan left his office with the firm intention of escorting her away from the premises.
“I have told Thomas to escort her to the smaller ballroom,” Ainsley said behind him, laughter rife in his tone.
Their private apartments and offices were on the third floor of the building, so it would take Lucan a few minutes to reach her. Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he forced himself to walk down the halls at a measured pace. It would not do for anyone to see him running, especially one of his interfering friends.
He descended to the second floor and walked along the hallway to the door leading to the smaller ballroom. He entered and scanned the crowd from the balcony looking for her unique blond hair. The reckless fool probably did not even realize how recognizable she was. The highest echelons of society were members of Decadence. All of his patrons were gentry mixed with the haute monde. She could be recognized by anyone.
The idea of her being at the club rattled him. Whatever distance he placed between them while he plotted to bring down Calydon was necessary. For Constance made him yearn for the impossible, to put aside his vengeance and pursue a life with her. She was proving to be his most dangerous opponent yet. No other had ever made him doubt his chosen path as she did now. Not even his closest friends had the power to sway him with their arguments. But she had the capability to do so with a mere stare. And she was here.
Lucan stood transfixed when he identified her. She wore an icy blue gown cut to showcase her exquisite charms. He would recognize her shape anywhere, the sharp but feminine shape of her face, and sensually curved lips. She had been ingenious enough to don a vivid red wig that complemented her creamy skin tone in the most alluring manner. The eye mask she also wore served to disguise her even further. If he had not been intimately acquainted with her, he would not have known he was looking at Lady Constance. Not so foolish after all, but still reckless.
A slow appreciative whistle came from his left, and Marcus came up beside him. Lucan gritted his teeth in annoyance for his friend seemed as equally transfixed.
“Who is she?”
“Out of bounds,” Lucan said flatly. He could feel Marcus’s astonishment. It was unlike Lucan to be possessive of any female.
Marcus’ gaze slashed back to her. “My God, is that Lady Constance? I have heard about her charms from Ainsley and the Reverend, but I thought they exaggerated.”
At Lucan’s silence Marcus chuckled. “It is, isn’t it? I had heard the lady to be blond. But from the way your hands are digging into the railings—”
“It is her,” Lucan said cutting off Marcus’ taunting.
Lucan forcibly relaxed his hand and released the balcony railing.
“Fearless little thing isn’t she?”
“I think you mean reckless,” Lucan growled.
Marcus glanced at him in apparent bemusement. “I think her presence here tonight is all you need to draw Calydon into a deeper trap of your making. Yet you seem angry with her.” He continued in his taunting drawl, “Curious indeed. I am beginning to think the Reverend is correct in his assertions. You need to marry the lady.”
Lucan narrowed his gaze, taking in her fascination with the women dancing the can-can. Someone moved to stand beside her, and he recognized Lady Ralston from her posture alone. Both of them were oblivious to the various stares directed their way. All from men, and from the hunger in their regard, he knew without a doubt what they were thinking.
“Damn it!” he was thoroughly annoyed with both women. The risk they took amazed him.
“And who is that?” Marcus asked. His gazed directed solely on Constance’s companion.
“Lady Ralston.”
“Is she off bounds as well?”
“No, but tread carefully. The lady is too fragile for your attentions. I can assure you she is not here for any dalliance.”
Marcus frowned. “Fragile?”
“Her husband was not the most pleasant fellow.”