Page 14 of Infernal Vices

I rose from my seat and perused the sketches Charles had lined up on the coffee table. He’d captured me in a most disquieting way. The man looking at me from the page appeared younger than my fifty years. He was handsome, intelligent, and masterful. I noticed in the rendering of my curls how they seemed to be something Charles focused on. Was this really me? I wanted very much to keep one of the drawings and gift it to Sebastian. Yes, I believe he would like that very much.

“Could I purchase any of these?”

“They’re not for sale.”

I narrowed my gaze and looked up to meet his eyes but saw humour there. His moustache twitched as he grinned. “Go ahead. Take your pick; it’s my gift to you.”

I smiled in response and chose one of the portraits that made me look dashing and handsome. “Thank you. I shall have this one framed.” We shared a smile, and I felt warmth fizzle inside me. Maybe this was the beginning of friendship.

Charles affixed his eyes on me once more. “It pleases me greatly for you to have one of my sketches. I’m honoured,” he admitted. The moment of kinship we shared was then broken by the sounds of my servants next door in the dining room.

Charles’ cheeks coloured, he let out a light flirtatious laugh and sheepishly looked away. He busied himself collating his drawings and then opened his folio to store them. A sheet of paper fluttered out and landed at my feet. Automatically I leaned down and collected it. The page contained a drawing in graphite of a pretty young woman in a flowing gown sitting on a window seat in a library. It was a rather lovely composition.

“Oh, I’ll take that,” Ashe said plucking the sketch from my fingers. “My sister, Cecily,” Charles explained. “She’s my constant study while I’m at home. Quite the best model I’ve ever had. She always has her head in a book,” he chuckled.

“Is she out?” I enquired.

“Not yet, this will be her first season. Mother is determined to find a suitor, but Cecily would be happier wed to a book!” He slid the page back into his folio and then glanced at his hands.

“Goodness, I’m a little grubby,” Charles said, holding up his charcoal smeared hands. “Give me a moment to get cleaned up before dinner.”

“Of course, of course. The bathroom is the first door at the top of the stairs,” I directed.

When Ashe had left the room and I could hear him ascending the stairs. I hurried to my study where I secreted my sketch in a manila folder. It would be a splendid gift for my beloved on St Valentine’s Day. In fact it would be the first time that I had a paramour to give a gift to on that special day for lovers. A creaking sound above my head pulled me from my romantic thoughts. In an instant I recognized exactly what it was. One of the floorboards in my bed chamber was a little loose and creaked. Charles Ashe was in my bedroom! What the devil? I rushed for the stairs and trod lightly, knowing exactly where the boards creaked. On the landing I could see that my bedroom door was ajar. A maid had lit the fire earlier to warm the room, and I saw the flickering firelight. I stepped toward my room until I could see through the gap in the door. Charles Ashe was seated on my bed. He’d washed his hands at least before he’d taken hold of one of my white feather pillows and held it to his face. I was confused for a moment before the realization hit me. Good God! The man was inhaling my personal scent like a ruddy dog! I pushed myself back against the wall, my heart beating in double time, sweat beading at my brow. I had let my guard down and begun to think of Ashe as a friend. However, his interest was still of the lustful variety, and it was unwelcome, most unwelcome. I heard the floorboard creak again, and turned back to the door to see Ashe had returned the pillow to its place. He stood and the front of his trousers showed a half mast protuberance. Gods! He adjusted his crotch and seemed to realize he could not attend dinner with such a stand, and so turned and perused my bedroom. He strode over to the bookcase and began to read the titles of the book spines in my personal collection. The moment he reached out for a book on the fourth shelf I sprang into action, for the book that had drawn his attention was the first edition of My Secret Life—The Sex Diary of a Victorian Gentleman, by Anonymous. I could not let him pull that book from the shelf. I would not let him find my secret room. I pushed the chamber door open and Charles jumped in alarm.

“What the devil are you doing in my bedroom?” I asked in an accusing gasp. Ashe turned and placed his hand to his chest.

“Goodness, Benedict! My ticker nearly leaped through my ribs,” he laughed, trying to make light of the fact he’d been caught snooping.

“Well?” I snapped, demanding an explanation.

“Oh, Benedict. There’s nothing sinister going on! You can’t blame a man for his curiosity. The more I know about you, the more I want to know, that’s all!” He took a step toward me, his eyes reflecting the firelight, as he spoke in a low husky tone.

”I have dreamed for many nights about how delectable it would have been to complete the ritual, to exchange our precious seed, and now we have the perfect opportunity to—” He was cut short in his attempt at seduction by the sound of one of my household coming up the stairs. Thank goodness, someone must have heard me raise my voice.

“Come,” I beckoned in a whisper and as Ashe stepped closer I pushed him behind the door then I opened it to see Mr. Troy step onto the landing, his expression one of concern that I’d seen many times before.

“Did you call me sir? Are you in need of assistance?”

“No, no, I’m quite alright Troy, stubbed my toe, that’s all. I’ll just finish my ablutions and be down shortly.”

“Very good sir,” Troy said but I could see he was not convinced as he turned and began his descent.

When Mr. Troy was downstairs I closed the door and held my hand up, sending Ashe a scurrilous glare. “Charles, please do not overstep. You are a guest in my home. I have offered hospitality and that is all. In the circumstances anything else is highly inappropriate,” I blustered in a scandalized whisper. “My servants are extremely observant and of want to gossip. I do not want rumour and innuendo spread about the goings on in my household. My God man! We’re already dealing with the ramifications of a burglary. Have some decorum!” I scolded.

Ashe’s shoulders slumped dejectedly and he met my gaze, beseeching, as he absently pushed the rogue curl back from his brow.

“Forgive me, Benedict, I’m sorry for pushing my…personal agenda so passionately,” he pleaded his gaze wide like a pup begging for a morsel, “I can get rather, carried away with the muses and you are…quite the inspiration. Can you not see what you do to me?” His gaze dropped and scandalously, he gripped the bulge at his crotch, squeezed, and exhaled a wanton moan. Goodness, my cravat was tied far too tight, yes, that was it! That was why heat rushed to my groin and to my face. I opened the bedroom door wide, sent him a glare, and gestured for him to leave. He did so.

“I’ll see you in the dining room,” I said stiffly.

Ashe paused on the landing, turned to face me, and licked his plump bottom lip before he said in a whisper, “This is not over, my friend. We shall have to make alternative arrangements before the next meeting of the brotherhood, yes?”

I did not respond, but closed my bedroom door and sank against the warm oak. Damn it! Charles Ashe was fixated on me and I did not like it. It did not matter if I raised my voice or rejected him, he saw it as me playing hard to get. He was eager to fulfil the requirement ofFratres Seminis and seek couplings with other members of the cabal. But I was not a true acolyte. I was at a loss of what to do to put Charles off my scent.

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