Page 42 of Dukes All Night Long

T he young widow, Charlotte Beauchamp, recently out of mourning, decided to take charge of her needs and be brave.

Purely on a whim, she purchased a subscription to a private club that held masquerade balls once a sennight and, on other nights, served as a gambling den welcoming both gentlemen and ladies.

The establishment’s location was just barely within the fringes of respectable London.

All she needed to do to enter was show a card with the word Knight embossed on it, which accompanied her acceptance letter into the club.

The letter warned her never to lose or misplace the card.

If she did, her membership would be revoked for life.

Standing inside the modest, dimly lit ballroom, at nearly the stroke of midnight during her first foray into Club Knight had her insides vibrating.

She had almost attended a masquerade at Vauxhall Gardens the previous week but her courage failed her.

The crowds there could be overwhelming, and the unmasking at midnight was unnerving.

At Club Knight, one need never reveal one’s identity, which suited her purpose perfectly.

Charlotte hadn’t been this nervous since she had her come out at seventeen, embarrassing herself and her papa.

When the Master of Ceremonies had announced them at the first ball of the season, she had been so preoccupied with the lavish ballroom full of elegantly dressed members of the ton that she forgot she was wearing heeled slippers for the first time.

That was how she’d ended up landing on her face, her skirts tangled around her legs.

She had always been graceful, but not at the most pivotal moment in her life.

Tonight was another pivotal moment. At twenty-four, she was tired of being alone. It had been over a year since her husband had tragically died serving king and country, and she craved another’s company.

Another’s touch.

Being held in a gentleman’s arms.

Being skin-to-skin with another person.

Hence her participation in the club and her attendance at the masquerade. Her trembling fingers touched her mask, ensuring it was securely in place and obscuring her identity. She had chosen to dress as a peasant girl selling flowers and carried a basket full of fresh, colorful tulips.

She’d been drawn here after seeing an article in the gossip rags mentioning this club and how it was a place for members of the ton to engage in scandalous behavior with no one the wiser.

Anyone applying for a membership, Charlotte included, had to sign a confidentiality agreement.

Anything that happened inside Club Knight remained within the private walls.

Charlotte was putting her reputation in the hands of that agreement.

“Please let it work,” she whispered as she stood in the same spot she’d occupied for the past ten minutes, taking in the room full of masked people dancing, flirting, and enjoying themselves without the risk of being ruined.

“This must be your first time here.”

The voice, smooth and deep, one she didn’t believe she had ever heard before, belonged to a tall gentleman impeccably dressed in black evening wear, with a black mask covering most of his face.

All she could make out was his dark, wavy hair, one equally dark eye, and full lips.

The timbre of his voice warmed her skin.

As his eyes roamed up and down her body, her female parts tingled.

When their eyes connected for the first time, she felt his stare penetrating to the depths of her soul. Who was this man?

“Yes,” she murmured.

He held out his arm, and she noticed his large hands.

Hands that no doubt knew their way around a woman’s body.

What had gotten into her? Then again, wasn’t this why she had come here tonight?

To feel a man’s hands on her body? To have a tryst with a stranger before she settled down with a respectable, boring husband? One she had yet to find.

“May I show you around?” he asked.

Smiling, she replied, “Yes,” and placed her hand on his arm, wondering if he could hear her heart thrashing in her chest.

“Don’t be nervous. I’m well acquainted with this place.

I won’t get us lost. I promise.” He took her hand and wrapped it around his elbow.

“Much better. Formality and social etiquette are optional here. And I promise not to ravish you.” He paused and grinned guiltily.

“At least not yet, anyway.” She gasped, and he chuckled.

“I’m teasing you. Unless you want me to ravish you.

If that is the case, I am yours to command. ”

Once again, she gasped, and he chuckled, patting her hand. “Forgive me. I forgot it’s your first time here. Relax, I’ll keep you safe.”

“Thank you, I think,” she breathed out, her voice shaking. What else could she say? He appeared to be a true gentleman, but what did she know? She had married during her first Season. Her experience with the opposite sex was limited.

“You have seen the ballroom, although you barely stepped inside. Perhaps you will honor me with a dance later.” He led her back out into the entry and down a dimly lit hallway, pointing to several doors that were ajar.

“There is a library and several drawing rooms. A card room and a billiards room.” He paused in an open doorway, and they watched several couples play billiards.

Charlotte unwrapped her arm from his and tried to hide her shock at the ladies’ scanty costumes.

One was a see-through toga, and it hid nothing. Her cheeks warmed.

“Would you care to play?” Her escort didn’t seem fazed by the indecently dressed women.

“Perhaps later. If you’re willing to teach me?”

“It would be my honor.” He took her hands in his.

“You don’t need these.” He slowly removed her gloves and tucked them inside her basket of flowers.

With his dark, mysterious eyes fixed on hers, he raised both hands to his lips and brushed a kiss on the pulse point on the underside of one wrist, then the other.

The warmth from his lips traveled up her arms and curled around her heart, shocking her.

Who is this accomplished rogue ? “Much better,” he said as he wrapped one of his large, warm around one of hers and led her back the way they came until they reached the entry and a large staircase.

“I will not take you upstairs,” he winked at her, “at least not yet.” He lowered his voice several notes, and her skin tingled in a pleasant way.

She hadn’t felt this alive since the day she’d married Hugh, and she pushed the sadness down as it tried to rise and ruin her evening—an evening she so desperately needed.

“There are rooms upstairs where couples can have privacy to do whatever they... desire.”

“I . . . I see,” she stammered.

“I would not advise going up there alone. A gentleman or a lady may take that as an open invitation.” It took all her control to conceal her shock. “I’ve upset you.”

Obviously, she didn’t hide it well enough. “No. I’m no innocent.”

“You seem so young. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four. How old are you?”

She was starting to love the sound of his laughter, and he didn’t disappoint. “Twenty-eight.”

“Why so cynical?” Oh dear, she didn’t mean to blurt that out. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I’m not cynical. But perhaps I am a bit jaded after my time fighting Napoleon.”

He led her into the ballroom, where the orchestra played a slow song and couples held each other intimately close.

There was hardly any space between their bodies.

If some members of the ton and the patronesses of Almack’s believed the waltz was scandalous, they would faint if they witnessed what was happening in this ballroom.

Hands roamed freely over bodies, causing tingling sensations to caress her skin until she remembered what he said. “You fought in the war?”

“I believe I just told you that.” Without asking, he led her onto the dance floor, placing her arms around his neck while his went around her waist, pulling her close so their bodies touched from her breasts to her hips.

She didn’t know what possessed her as she rested her cheek on his chest and swayed to the music, their feet barely moving. He smelled woodsy, wild, and sensual.

“Can we not talk about the war?” he asked quietly. “I just want to hold you close, smell the lavender soap you used in her hair, and dream that you belong to me... for tonight anyway.”

“Yes,” she whispered as they continued to sway to the melody as though they were the only couple on the floor.

What would it be like if they did belong to each other?

Now she understood the allure of masquerades.

One could pretend to be anyone, doing anything within reason, and no one would be the wiser.

She could lift her head, rise up on her tiptoes, and kiss him without repercussions. And so she did just that.

She took him by surprise, from the sound that escaped his throat, but not for long.

He melded his lips with hers, groaning into her mouth as he slipped his tongue inside.

He tasted of forbidden forests and fruits—desirable and addictive.

The music faded, and the other couples blended into the walls, leaving them alone in a mystical wood surrounded by fragrant flowering trees that swayed with them, their petals reaching out to caress their skin.

Breaking the kiss, Charlotte gasped for breath and rested her cheek once again against his chest. This time, the quiver and beat of his heart thumping against her cheek made her realize she wasn’t the only one affected by their kiss.

“That was a pleasant surprise.” His voice sounded deeper than usual, causing her to smile.

“Pleasant? Is that all?” She didn’t know what possessed her to tease him. Wearing a mask was empowering, and she intended to make the most of it while she could.

“Erotic, sensual, and decadent,” he said with a chuckle. “Is that more to your liking, my mysterious lady?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you kiss me?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“Ever since you first approached, and your lips were full and glistening in the candlelight, I had a desire to know what you tasted like.”

“What was your conclusion?”

“Hmmm, you taste like secret forests and forbidden fruit.”

“Hmmm, should I tell you what you taste like?” he asked, his voice pitched low.

“By all means.”

“You taste sweet and savory. A perfect combination. One I could see myself craving daily.”