Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
‘Eliza!’
I am met with more half naked women, their breasts being flaunted unashamedly, their faces painted heavily. Each and every one turns and looks at me. I feel somewhat overdressed, but there are more pressing matters at hand than my apparent state of decency. Hearing the thunderous pounds of the Duke’s boots, I hurry on, following my nose and the smell of tobacco. I arrive in a large, lavish room, it’s dark, clouds of smoke hampering my vision farther, but I still see the women draped across the bodies of many men, fondling with them in one way or another. I quickly pick my jaw up off the floor.
‘For Christ’s sake, Eliza,’ Johnny yells, seizing my wrist. ‘This is not a place a lady should frequent.’
‘Obviously,’ I mutter, wrenching myself free of his grip. ‘But I am here now, so I may as well see to my business.’ I march on, scanning the endless well-dressed men, men held in the highest of regards, until I find my brother. He is slumped in a chair with a bottle of gin, and a woman is splayed across his lap, her generous breasts thrust alarmingly close to his face. He is barely conscious.
‘Frank,’ I blurt, distraught to see him in such an indecent tangle.
He blinks, struggling to sit up, hastily knocking the woman off his lap. ‘Eliza?’ He stands abruptly, albeit on wobbly legs. ‘What the d-d-devil…’ he slurs, ‘are you doing h-h-here?’
‘I am here to save you from this… this…’ What am I to call it? I peek around. ‘… temptation!’
A rough laugh sounds from behind me, and I pivot to discover the Duke looking decidedly amused. I will soon wipe that smile from his face. ‘Before you are beyond being saved,’ I add, just loud enough for the Duke to hear. As anticipated, his humour disappears and is replaced with a belligerent snarl. I huff to myself. ‘I’ll do you the kindness of waiting for you outside so you may at least make yourself decent in private,’ I declare to a rather startled-looking Frank. Decent? Private? ‘I trust you will not leave me alone and at the mercy of London by night for too long.’ And with that, I swivel and leave, feeling the eyes of many men follow my path to the front entrance of the club.
I can’t say I can breathe easy once I am outside the confines of the stifling, scandalous palace of pleasure. A gentleman’s club? What utter rubbish! I look left and right. This is not a place for a lady, not at this hour, anyway. Unless, of course, and as proven in the establishment behind me, you are a woman of a certain variety. Namely, brazen.
‘Are you mad, woman?’
I look over my shoulder. The Duke is filling the doorway. He does not appear all too pleased by the situation. I snort. It hasn’t escaped my notice that the woman in the alleyway recognised him. ‘I should like you to leave.’
‘I should like you to be caged, but, alas, I am not an unreasonable man.’
‘Ha!’ He’s an ass! ‘Where the hell is my brother?’
‘Probably fastening his breeches.’ He rounds my quaking body and faces me. ‘I expect he will be a while. His coordination, courtesy of the gin, is awful.’
‘Why do you look so angered by this whole situation?’ I ask. ‘I demand to know!’
‘Because, Eliza, and it pains me to say it…’ he comes close, his face as near as it could possibly be to mine, and I breathe in. It is shaky. ‘… I appear to have developed a somewhat unreasonable and misplaced concern for your well-being.’
Oh? ‘Then lose it,’ I hiss. ‘And be gone!’
He snorts his thoughts on that. ‘I have never in my life met such––’
The door to the club swings open, and Frank appears, wobbling at the top of the steps. His eyes bounce between the Duke and me, his drunken mind undoubtedly taking far too long to enlighten him on who and what he is facing. ‘Eliza?’ he says, closing one eye, as if trying to focus on me.
‘Yes, yes.’ I climb the steps and circle an arm around his waist. ‘We already established it is I.’
‘You cannot be here!’
‘Neither can you,’ I reply, feeling his weight lean into me. Oh, this won’t do. I will never maintain the strength to be his leaning post the entire way back to Belmore Square. ‘It would be most helpful if you could please try to walk without my assistance.’
‘Eli… za!’ he slurs, as he pushes himself away from me. ‘I am am am a-am… per… per… fect… fectly sober.’
Johnny snorts his amusement, and if the situation were not of a catastrophically awful kind, I might stop and admire the vision of the eternally moody Duke having a jolly good time. Ass. ‘I beg to differ,’ I mutter, watchful for any signs that Frank might fall flat on his face. I do believe my earlier question, the one I asked myself, has been answered. This is how Frank has taken the news of Lizzy Fallow’s imminent engagement to Viscount Millingdale. Namely, get blind drunk and pretend it hasn’t happened. The trouble is, Frank cannot remain completely sozzled forever, as much as that may feel appealing to him at this present time. I do not even have the capacity to consider how I feel about how he clearly feels. Lizzy Fallow isn’t Lady Dare, and that is all that matters to me.