PROLOGUE
Summer 1812
Anna
The moment when the Duchess of Sedgewick could watch her husband fuck his mistress without her heart breaking was the moment she knew her marriage was truly over.
It wasn’t that the feeling hadn’t been a long time coming. She and Sedgewick had never been a love match, even if Anna had once had a brief hope that they could come to some warmth and affection with each other.
But they hadn’t. And in the last five years of their six-year marriage, they’d been coming together to the Donville Masquerade, an erotic underground club where members could explore their deepest desires. At first it had been to watch, an aphrodisiac, he had told her. Then to play together—a rather half-hearted attempt on his part.
Eventually he’d turned to other women and even encouraged her to seek her own pleasure. She had never born him children, ; she was not capable. He, apparently, was, because several of his mistresses had his by-blows. He had smiled at her, almost warmly, and pointed out that he had no fear of bringing “polluted blood” into his line from her dalliances. Though she had no strong desire for children one way or another, the casualness of that remark had stung.
They’d even looked into divorce, but the laws were difficult and the freedom wouldn’t be worth the huge scandal to Sedgewick and his family. No, he had surrendered himself to the idea that his young brother’s sons would inherit his title and that he could have his mistresses and courtesans. He only seemed to hate her a little for the former and the latter no longer felt like a punishment.
So they lived together in faint misery, growing further apart with each passing day.
Anna momentarily dropped her gaze away from the little spying window that peered into the room where Sedgewick and his latest lover were tangled in each other. The Donville Masquerade allowed for watching if couples wanted it. This dark hall peered into many a room. Anna had simply made the mistake of looking into this one.
The woman with Sedgewick gave a side glance to the window, as if she knew she was being watched and liked it. What was her name again? Lydia? Laura? Anna couldn’t recall. It didn’t matter anyway. She was blonde and beautiful and younger than the duchess, who had just watched her twenty-eighth year expire.
Anna sighed and moved into a dark corner of the corridor to collect herself, only instead of finding a wall to lean on, her fingers met a solid, warm chest. She gasped and the man cloaked in darkness sucked in a breath.
“Forgive me,” he said, his voice low and rough in the darkness. It sent a delicious shiver through her body and made heat settle between her legs. No man’s voice had ever affected her so instantly and powerfully.
“N-no, pardon me,” she said, her voice trembling as she slowly drew her hand away from him. “I didn’t see you there.”
“I should have made my presence known,” he said. “I will go.”
He moved to do so. The light from the little spy area where she’d been watching Sedgewick hit his form and let her see the shape of the stranger. He was tall and broad-shouldered.
“Wait,” she said, almost not meaning to speak.
He stopped immediately and turned to look at her, even though she doubted he could see her in the dark any more than she could see him. “Yes?”
“Were you watching me…or-or someone else?” Anna asked.
He cleared his throat. “You,” he admitted softly. “I saw you in the hall and couldn’t stop myself from following.”
She caught her breath. “I see.”
“You were watching a room,” he said. There was no judgment in his tone, but there was a hint of tension.
She bent her head, glad he couldn’t see her expression in the shadows. It made her…braver. As did the fact that he was a stranger and could never know who she was out in the world. She wore a mask here, after all, and now she was just a shadow to him, as he was to her.
“I was watching my…my husband,” she explained. “Watching him take pleasures with someone else that he refuses to take with me any longer.”
“Bastard,” the stranger said with surprising heat to his tone considering he didn’t know her. “Fool.”
“How would you know?” she asked.
He hesitated but then moved toward her. She felt the gentle warmth of his minty breath caress her skin as he leaned down. “You are beautiful.”
Her own breath was almost nonexistent now that he was so close. “I’m wearing a mask.”
“I’d wager you wear many a mask. None of them hide your beauty.”
“And you think that should be enough to make him…want me like he wants her?”
She felt the brush of rough fingers against her cheek, just below the mask they had been discussing. “There are a great many reasons why he should want you. Why, if you were mine, I would make sure you knew how much you were wanted.”
“You know that, do you?” she gasped out, trying to be bolder than she felt when he was so close and there was so much crackling in the air between them. Some of it far deeper than mere desire.
“I’ve known it since the first moment I laid eyes on you,” he said, his voice suddenly strained.
Anna’s heart was pounding now, the blood rushing so loud in her ears that she couldn’t hear anything else. But perhaps that was best because it dialed all the focus in her mind and body to the shadowy presence of the man before her.
She’d had lovers before. In this very club, in fact. Usually masked men who were as disconnected as her husband when they touched her. Sometimes there was pleasure. But she’d never experienced the kind of hungry, animal draw to anyone that she felt toward this man whose face and name she didn’t even know.
“W-what if I could be yours?” she asked. “R-right here. Right now.”
She heard his breath catch, felt the wobble of him like she’d weakened his knees with that suggestion. It was a heady thing since she could tell the man was powerful, even if she couldn’t see him. Physically commanding, yes, but also someone who knew who he was and what he wanted. That he wanted her was a thrill.
“Are you certain you’d desire that?” he asked.
She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and was once again happy he couldn’t see her humiliation when she said, “In this moment, I-I want to feel wanted. You say you could make that happen. And the Donville Masquerade is where people come for such things.”
She stepped up to him, letting her hand find his chest a second time. Her palm flattened against the rough fabric of his jacket and she shivered as she slid her fingers up the hard expanse of him beneath it. Eventually she traced the line of his jaw. It was harsh and peppered with whiskers. Not in fashion, but she wanted to feel them brush against her skin nonetheless.
“I…need to tell you who I am,” he began.
Anna shook her head. “Oh, please don’t,” she murmured. “This is a fantasy. A dream. If I know your identity, then it will make coming back into reality that much harder.”
He hesitated for what felt like an eternity, like he was weighing the ethics of her suggestion. But then his arms came around her…steady, strong. She shivered against the warmth and width of him. Oh yes. She wanted this encounter in the dark. She wanted it more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time.