Page 1 of The Mistress (Dirty Little Harlots #2)

“ Jocelyn, love, you’re looking particularly delectable tonight.”

When Reggie entered the private sitting room of the small townhome he’d purchased for me, I greeted him with a smile for his compliment, and my cheek to buss. My smile wasn’t false, for two reasons.

One, I had learned long ago that if I was going to present an emotion, it needed to be a real emotion. In my…let us say career , I couldn’t afford my emotions to ring false.

And two, I genuinely liked the Honorable Reginald Markland, second son of the Earl of Sandtrip. He was a sweet man, a talented lover, and a generous patron. At thirty-two, I had made careful investments for my eventual retirement, but I did hope I could grow old with Reggie.

“Hello, my love,” I purred, reaching up to cup the back of his head, so I could massage the stress from his scalp. “I have missed you.”

The my love part wasn’t false either.

I’d been fortunate to be able to choose my patrons over the years—my upbringing and moderate-if-unremarkable looks had granted me that much, at least, when Society shunned me.

I only made arrangements with men whose company I genuinely enjoyed, and while I felt affection for all of them, Reggie was the best.

Tonight, though…

His kiss was lacking something. Distracted, perhaps?

I was the one to pull away, to study him for a moment, before leading him to the settee and pulling him down beside me. “Reggie?” I murmured, urging him to rest his head against my chest as I played soothingly with his hair. “What is it?”

“Jocelyn, I…”

His warm brown eyes closed and he turned his face away from me. And dread began to pool in my stomach.

Still, I forced my caresses to remain soft, comforting.

It is a mistress’s role to soothe her patron, after all.

Reggie was married to a cold woman who’d borne him two daughters and a son, then retired to the country.

I’d never met his family, of course, but I knew he doted on the children, judging from his stories.

It was one of the reasons I adored him: his kind heart.

But he never had anything good to say about his wife, which is why I knew my position was secure.

At least…I thought it was.

He does not need your panic .

“How can I help?” I murmured, pretending that my heart wasn’t pounding a mile a minute. “ Can I help?”

He snorted softly. “Yes, you can. You’re the only one who—” He cut off his mutterings as he pushed himself upright, to sit beside me—not touching—on the settee.

Oh dear. Now I was really beginning to worry.

I placed my hand on his knee. He was dressed for the club, which was common for him, and I was dressed in…

well, not very much at all, truthfully. I kept two servants—an older, married couple who had become like family to me—and they knew to keep my rooms quite toasty, so I could lounge around in just a silk robe and stockings when Reggie was visiting.

He liked to see me wearing the jewels he’d purchased for me—said it made him feel proud that he could decorate such a beautiful woman. His praise made me smile, and I hoped he saw the diamonds glittering between the sapphires of the bracelet which rested against his knee.

Lord knows I had few other places to wear the jewels, and it pleased me to make him happy.

Something I was apparently failing at this evening.

My fingers tightened on his knee, and he dropped his hand to cover mine, his fingertips tracing my knuckles. “Joss, I…I think I have made a mistake.”

Oh God. Please do not say things are over between us !

I took a deep breath to fortify myself, then turned my hand over to twine my fingers through his. “What is it, darling? I am certain we can come up with a solution, between the two of us.”

His head tipped to the side so he could send me a small rueful smile. “I knew I could count on you, pet.”

That smile eased my worry a bit, and I squeezed his hand. “Tell me.”

“Tonight at the club…” His normally soft gaze turned guilty as he dropped his chin. “I made an ill-advised wager.”

He has lost this house.

He has lost his fortune.

He has lost the ability to keep you .

I scolded myself, knowing I wasn’t the entirety of Reggie’s world. Perhaps this wager had nothing to do with me or my future.

So I kept my tone and expression neutral when I prompted, “Yes? And you lost, I suppose?”

“I did.” He blew out a breath, his shoulders slumping until he was staring between his knees. “I was certain Ironhenge couldn’t beat my hand; I held point and sequence, a near-flawless run, and he'd already discarded like a man defeated.”

Reggie had been playing piquet with the Duke of Ironhenge? My heart began to pound again, but not for the same worry as before. Ironhenge was…

Well, there were whispers about him.

Whispers which I’d never decided intrigued me or terrified me.

Reggie was waiting for a response from me, which was odd. “I had not realized the Duke was part of your club,” I admitted.

“You’ve heard of him?” When he winced, I realized he’d been peeking at me. “Of course you have, everyone has. And it turns out, he’s heard of you.”

My hold on him tightened as dread pooled in my stomach. Something had happened tonight, something which did affect me. “What?” I rasped.

“One hundred thousand pounds, Jocelyn,” he sighed. “That’s how much I owed him after he laid down a perfect set and claimed capot , and I watched a hundred thousand pounds vanish like cigar smoke.”

Oh God. He was going to have to sell this house, before I convinced him to put the deed in my name! I would be without a place to live, without a patron, without?—

Reggie took a deep breath and turned to face me. “Except, he offered me an alternative.”

I could barely process what he was saying. Eyes wide, I clutched at him, willing him to explain himself.

“Ironhenge wants a night with you, Joss. He’s willing to erase my debt if I give—if you give him that.”

“A…night,” I choked, uncertain I understood.

Oh, yes you do. You understand perfectly well .

Reggie grimaced. “Tonight. He’s coming here tonight, to collect what he’s owed.”

Owed. As if I were a prize, a wager.

Unable to stop the movement, I pushed myself to my feet, the green silk flying around my ankles as I pulled my hand from his. “Tonight? The Duke of Ironhenge is coming here tonight ?” My pitch was rising as panic set in. “And he wants to…”

Reggie stood and grabbed my shoulders before I could begin to pace. “He wants to—to tup you, Jocelyn.” The poor man’s face had gone pale with worry. “I’m sorry! I should never have made that wager, and to accept the alternative…”

“No,” I whispered, distracted from my panic by his guilt. “A hundred thousand pounds is a fortune. You would be ruined. You…” I swallowed. “You had no choice. If the Duke will accept…”

I tipped my head back to meet Reggie’s eyes and made my decision, despite the knotting of my stomach. “If Ironhenge will accept me as an alternative, then we would be fools not to take him up on the offer.”

“Really, Joss?” he whispered, his gaze darting between my eyes, hope growing. “You mean it? You’d be willing to—to subject yourself to that, to save me ?”

His words, his phrasing…doomed me. I closed my eyes just briefly.

Subject yourself . So the rumors of the Duke of Ironhenge were true.

This time, my comforting smile was false—but I thought I could be forgiven—when I opened my eyes and cupped Reggie’s cheek with my palm.

“Of course, love. If I can help you, I will.”

And by helping him, you are saving yourself and your home.

Well, yes. That too.

The knock on the door had Reggie startling, and I felt my brow raise.

That was quick.

“Miss Jocelyn? You have a…a visitor.” My manservant sounded nervous. “He said he was…expected.”

I cleared my throat and met Reggie’s hopeful gaze. “Yes, he is,” I called. “Send him in.”

I gave myself three seconds to prepare, closing my eyes and dropping my hand from Reggie’s cheek, before I turned to face the newcomer. This time, I didn’t bother with a smile of welcome.

And I suspect he would have known it was false.

It was clear that the man who stalked through the door was called Ironhenge because he was so very, very hard.

His hair and eyes were close enough to black as to make no difference, and his jawline was tight.

His impeccable suit was indicative of the iron control it was whispered he maintained, and his hands…

Oh God, his hands.

His hands were large and callused, with scars crossing their backs.

His hands made me shiver.

And I wasn’t sure it was in revulsion.

You are curious. It is natural. Reggie does not have to know that sometimes you touch yourself after he is gone, imagining the kinds of acts Ironhenge is whispered to employ …

“Markland.” His voice was deep, reaching down to my stomach— lower —and stroking something. His gaze held mine captive. “Jocelyn. Your…master has explained tonight’s contract?”

Contract? So it was to be official, then? I was pleased my voice remained steady when I said, “Yes, Your Grace.”

Those intriguing fingers made a flicking motion. “And you are aware of my…tendencies?”

My heart was pounding again, so loud I wondered if Reggie could hear it. He stood at my side, and I could feel him vibrating with concern. Or perhaps controlled energy. Did he want to leap in front of me to protect me from Ironhenge?

Well, tonight it was my responsibility to protect him .

“Yes, Your Grace,” I whispered, keeping my chin high.

Ironhenge studied me, his gaze turning speculative. Could he see that I wasn’t completely abhorrent of his tendencies ? That a secret part of me was, dare I say, intrigued ?

His dark gaze swept down my body, caressing me the same way the silk did. Instead of lingering on my breasts, the way Reggie often did, Ironhenge seemed more intrigued by my hair. Reggie preferred that I leave the dark curls loose around my shoulders, so that is how I wore it tonight.

I wondered if the Duke liked it just as much.