Page 101 of Why Do Rogues Fall in Love?

“You understand what you may encounter?”

She smiled with maddening sweetness. “I believe I have a reasonably good notion.”

“Cori.”

“George, you have already debauched me five times, if I recall correctly. Stop behaving as though I am some delicate lady whose sensibilities are so fragile that I might swoon upon seeing other lovers.”

He smiled, remembering those deliciously wicked encounters and how thoroughly she had astonished him with her passionate nature. “Very well. But if you are shocked beyond recovery, I shall remind you that I attempted to warn you.”

“And I shall remind you that I have never asked you to protect me from my own curiosity.”

“Then I suppose we understand one another.”

“Perfectly.”

He opened the discreetly paneled door and ushered her inside.

The passage beyond was narrow and dimly illuminated, with dark wooden paneling and a thick carpet that muffled their footsteps. The rich warmth and perfumed air of the pleasure palace seemed to recede as the door closed behind them, leaving only the faintest strains of music filtering through the walls.

A pair of shaded lamps offered a little illumination near the entrance, but farther along, darkness gathered in the narrow corridor. George could distinguish a slender ribbon of light ahead, escaping through an opening set high within the paneling.

“How wonderfully mysterious,” Cordelia whispered.

He smiled and rested a hand lightly against her back as they proceeded. Her shoulder brushed his arm in the narrow passage, and he caught the familiar fragrance of her hair beneath the heavier scents of Aphrodite. There was something unexpectedly intimate about walking beside her in this quiet darkness, and George found himself considerably more aware of her nearness than of the entertainments awaiting them.

A short distance ahead, a discreet brass fitting marked the concealed viewing aperture.

Cordelia approached it with obvious fascination. “Is that the peephole?”

“It is.”

“Good heavens. How very ingenious.”

George stepped beside her and carefully adjusted the small wooden shutter. A narrow opening appeared in the paneling, revealing a portion of the adjoining chamber. Beyond lay one of Aphrodite’s more sumptuous private rooms. Crimson damask covered the walls, and thick silk draperies framed an enormous velvet-covered couch. The warm glow of candles gilded the carved furniture and shimmered upon a ceiling fitted with mirrors, a particularly decadent embellishment Rebecca had commissioned for several of her private chambers.

Cordelia leaned forward, then drew back to look at him.

“Good heavens. One would never suspect such a thing existed from the other side.”

“That is rather the intention.”

“How extraordinary that someone should think to build an entire passage merely to observe what happens within a room.”

“The gentleman responsible was reputed to possess a singularly inquisitive nature.”

“I imagine he must have enjoyed himself enormously.”

“Almost certainly.”

She returned her attention to the opening. Then she caught her breath. “Oh, George.”

He glanced toward the aperture and saw that the occupants of the adjoining room had begun an intimate embrace upon the velvet-covered couch. A gentleman had drawn his companion into his arms, and the lady appeared entirely delighted by the attention, her laughter soft and teasing as she returned his kiss.

Cordelia watched for a moment before turning to him with an expression of astonishment. “They know we may be watching?”

“They know it is possible.”

“And they do not mind?”