Page 49 of An Honorable Deception
They had bruises, those women. On their arms, on their necks. One’s wrists bore burn marks that could only be from the chafing of rope or cuffs. And though they smiled, only a fool could miss that it was false. Costumes, like the too-revealing gowns.
But then, society had plenty of fools. And far, far worse.
He took a moment to watch the other men in the room. They were drinking, smoking, but their roaming eyes saidtheir purpose was singular. A different sort of woman moved among them, too, dressed in a sensible ensemble, looking as though she ought to be presiding over a family dinner.
She stopped beside one of the gents, and Yates heard him whisper a word that made his skin crawl. “Younger?”
The woman smiled. “Yes, my lord. Upstairs.”
Dunne didn’t rush him, thinking he was perusing the dozen women scattered within view. He kept pointing out this or that one, saying things like “Bornean priestess? Mermaid from Belize?”
“India?” He croaked out the word, but with a bit of luck, Dunne would attribute it to either his youth or his eagerness.
“Ahhh. The mysterious subcontinent. We have two lovely goddesses to tempt your taste for spice. Come, through here.”
He followed, praying God was walking right beside him. He couldn’t be, it seemed. Where could He possibly be in this? How could His holiness coexist with a den of sin?
And still, Yates had to believe He was.If I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. This, Yates was sure, was hell—or at least its antechamber. But the psalmist had promised His presence.
This next room had a piano, and a vaguely familiar gent sat at the bench, a woman with gloriously rich ebony skin draped over him, laughing a laugh that was as much illusion as the others’ smiles.
Dunne led him toward two other girls, both Indian. He couldn’t tell their ages beneath the heavily kohled eyes, the gold draping their heads, the brilliantly colored saris. Was either of them Samira?
Alethia had provided no photograph, and her general description could have applied to either of these two. But she’d given him one distinguishing characteristic—a perfect line of three identically sized small moles in front of her right ear.
“What do you think?” Dunne moved to the woman on the left and trailed the back of his hand down the side of her face—no moles. “This is Aditi. She has been with us for a year now. Haven’t you, my lovely?”
“Yes,sahib.”
“And one of our newest treasures,” Dunne said, moving to the other and caressing her arm. She flinched. His caress tightened to a grip. “Verynew.” He turned back to Yates with a lifted brow. “If you’re seeking a recommendation, my lord, I would think you’d more enjoy Aditi. Saanvi still has much to learn.”
Saanvi!
He pursed his lips, looking from one to another while doing his best to study only their faces. “I don’t know. Neither is quite what I had in mind. Do you have no others from India?”
He held Saanvi’s gaze as he asked it, lifted his brow a smidge.
She couldn’t know why he did it. Couldn’t know what he was asking. Couldn’t know he was a friend.
But something flickered in her eyes, and she darted them upward, toward the ceiling, her chest heaving with a quick, shaky breath.
Dunne had released her arm and was turning back to Yates. He regarded him evenly, but again, not with suspicion. With calculation. “You have made your donation?”
Donation—was that what they called it? Were these men really not only paying for the indulgence of their vices but calling it an act of charity?
Yates forced a smirk. “Would I be here if I hadn’t?”
The maths practically marched through the older man’s eyes. The youngest man in Lords. From a family known for squandering their money on diversions. Unmarried, ostensiblyresentful of his sister and her strict husband. A man with many, many years of “donations” ahead of him.
Dunne’s smile was absolutely predatory. “There’s one more. A private reserve, not offered to the public. But for you, my lord...”
Yates had to work to keep his fingers from curling into his palm. To make his smile go smug. He was going to rip this place apart—thatwas the only thought that allowed it. He didn’t know how, but he would. “Private reserve sounds perfect.”
He glanced at Saanvi again as he turned to follow Dunne out, but her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips moving. He wasn’t certain at first what words she silently spoke, but then the movements aligned with the very ones parading through his mind.Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven...
Dunne led him up the staircase, though he was quick to direct him to the left when the older woman charged from a room, hands fluttering. “So sorry, my lord. She must have stepped out for the necessary. Wait there, I’ll bring her to you directly.”
Yates had only a moment to hope that the woman’s anxiety meant what it sounded like before Dunne gave a rap on an ornate door, pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, and unlocked it.
