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When he’d finished, he looked squarely at her. “Tell me this, Marcia. Is thisreallywhat you want? Or is it mayhap that youwantto be discovered so the gossips will actually be right in their accusations?”

Starting, she opened and closed her mouth.

Andrew reached over and opened the door. He jumped down and then stretched a hand out to help her.

Marcia placed her fingers in his, and there was something so very natural and warm and… right in the way he folded his gloved fingers around hers, his palm conferring his heat and strength. Her breath quickened, as it did too often with Andrew these days.

He didn’t release her hand this time but, rather, twined his fingers with hers and led the way across the pavement and up a handful of stairs to an underwhelming white-stucco establishment.

Unlike yesterday, when there’d been a secret knock, the doors opened as if the person on the other side had been watching for them at the window.

As the man took their cloaks, a rush of noise rolled through the open doorway, slapping Marcia in the face, a blend of boisterous laughter and a cacophony of excited shouts and squeals.

As Andrew spoke in hushed tones to the servant at the front of the room, Marcia peeked around Andrew’s broad shoulder, her earlier reservations proving fleeting as her intrigue was restored, to take in the magnificent scene below.

Card tables filled the hall, and hardly a seat remained as lords and ladies, some with masks, and some without, swarmed the gaming floor.

It was not the first time Marcia had seen a card table, having spied them as she’d walked by those rooms set up during proper parties.

But this scene was altogether different.

Grateful for the mask that concealed her blush, she moved instinctively closer to Andrew’s side.

The patrons sat with cheroots clenched between their teeth, assessing the cards in their hands around the women on their laps. Many of the men entertained more than one partner. The women were clad in filmy garments that left little to the imagination, the fabric so sheer, it revealed the color of their nipples prodding that fabric. One of those men suckled his partner’s breast…

With a gasp, Marcia whipped her attention forward.

The swell of noise in the crowd thankfully swallowed the sound of her shock as Andrew led her with purposeful steps towards the back of the club, finding his way to what appeared to be the lone empty table.

A servant was immediately there, a young woman with midnight curls and a full figure, scantily clad, and bearing a tray of drinks.

“Good evening, Lord Waters,” the beauty purred, paying Marcia no notice. “Is there anything I can get you this evening?”

“Two drinks, Linette.” He lifted two fingers. Unlike last evening, when there’d been an air of flirtation to his exchange with Lucinda, this exchange was more perfunctory business.

A moment later, Linette set down two snifters of straw-yellow spirits.

“You’re certain there is nothing else you want?” Linette whispered in throaty tones, her double meaning clear.

Marcia tensed, focusing her attention on her glass and not on the exotic goddess propositioning Andrew. Why, even her name was luxuriant.

“Perhaps later,” Andrew murmured, and with a slight pout, the young woman sauntered off, her hips a-swaying as she went.

Marcia felt besieged by a sudden urge to spit.

Unlike Marcia’s, Linette’s name was lyrical when spoken. Whereas Marcia’s wasn’t even really a name but, rather, some ridiculous-sounding, made-up creation from her mother, who’d been desperate to pretend that the daughter thrust upon her was the gift of the man she loved, rather than the devil’s spawn.

A woman tainted so much by her blood that even her own fiancé had not been able to bear the sight of her.

Marcia’s fingers curled into the arms of her chair, her nails leaving crescents upon the velvet.

“Love?”

Love?

Blankly, she looked up.

Andrew stared back, concern in his gaze, and it took a moment to register that the endearment he’d spoken had been for her. “Would you like a different drink, love?”