Then Came You (The Gamblers #1)(70)

Giving her a cold, speaking glance, Derek turned his back and strode away. “ ’Appy ’unting,” he said over his shoulder.

“Hunting,” Lily muttered, watching him slink off like some betrayed lover. The sight of him made her feel guilty, responsible for some harm done to him, though she didn’t know what. With a sparkling, determined smile, she handed her cloak to a waiting servant and strode in through the central gaming room. A pleased laugh escaped her as she saw how cleverly it was decorated, giving the impression of a ruined temple. The walls were hung with long blue banners to resemble the sky, while towering wood and plaster columns were painted to simulate aged stone. Statues and altars were positioned in the corners and along the sides of the room. The hazard table had been moved to clear an area for dancing. Musicians were seated on the balconies above, sending sweet strains through the gambling palace. House wenches were draped in silver and gold, playing the part of Roman dancing girls as they moved among the guests with veils, gaudy lyres, and fake musical instruments.

An audible gasp went through the room as Lily appeared. She was able to go no farther as a horde of costumed men gathered around her—jesters, monarchs, pirates, and a fantastic assortment of fictional characters. Women glared discreetly from a distance as every man in the place tried to gain Lily’s attention. She blinked in surprise at the multitude of urgent voices.

“It’s her!”

“Let me by, I must speak with her—”

“Lady Eve, may I bring you a glass of wine—”

“I’ve reserved a place in one of the card rooms for you—”

“The most enchanting creature—”

At the sound of the growing tumult in the central room, Derek made his way to Worthy. The factotum was dressed as a small, bespectacled Neptune, a long trident clasped in one hand. “Worvy,” Derek muttered in a seething tirade, “you plants yourself on Miss Lawson, an’ don’t leave ’er. A bloody miracle if she ain’t raped ’alf a dozen times tonight, with every bastard in the place itching to join giblets with ’er—”

“Yes, sir,” Worthy interrupted calmly, and pushed his way through the crowd, putting his trident to good use.

Derek’s hard green eyes swept over the crowd. “Raiford, you bastard,” he said in a quiet, biting tone. “Where the bloody ’ell are you?”

Alex arrived at the assembly shortly before midnight, when the dancing and merrymaking had gathered considerable momentum. Taking advantage of their unique opportunity to gamble at Craven’s, the scantily dressed women sauntered from room to room, giving feminine squeals of dismay if they lost thousands of pounds or crowing with delight if they won. Concealed by masks and costumes, married women felt free to flirt with scoundrels, while distinguished gentlemen made overtures to demimondes. The charged atmosphere made it easy, almost mandatory, to engage in heavy-handed fondling, loose talk, and reckless behavior. Wine flowed like water, and the crowd became unruly with inebriated glee.

As Alex’s entrance was noted, there were a few cheers and a rapid string of toasts in his honor. He acknowledged them with a distracted smile. His gray eyes searched the room for Lily, but her small form was nowhere to be seen. As he paused to stare at a weird assortment of dancing couples, a group of women approached him. They all sported alluring smiles, their eyes gleaming invitingly behind feathered masks.

“My lord,” one of them purred, her voice distinguishable as that of Lady Weybridge. The young, beautiful wife of an elderly baron, she was dressed as an Amazon. Her opulent br**sts were barely concealed by a flesh-colored bodice. “I know it’s you, Raiford…those remarkable shoulders give you away…not to mention that blond hair.”

Another of the women pressed close to him and laughed throatily. “Why does your costume seem so appropriate?” she asked.

Alex was dressed as Lucifer—his coat, breeches, waistcoat, and boots all dyed a glowing scarlet red. A severe, demonic mask with two curved horns concealed his face, while a scarlet cloak covered his shoulders.

You must have been hiding devilish impulses for years,” Lady Weybridge murmured. “I always suspected there was more to you than met the eye!”

Frowning in bemusement, Alex nudged the clinging woman away from him. He’d been pursued by women before, been the recipient of seductive glances and pointed flirtation—but he’d never been the focus of such a direct assault. The thought that their interest was caused by his game with Lily was astonishing. They should be repelled by his scandalous behavior, not excited by it! “Lady Weybridge,” he muttered, pulling at her hand, which had crept inside his coat and slipped around his waist. “Pardon me, I’m in search of someone—”

She flung herself at him with a brandy-scented giggle. “You’re quite a dangerous man, aren’t you?” she murmured in his ear, and seized his earlobe with her teeth.

Alex gave a perturbed laugh, quickly pulling his head back. “I assure you, I’m quite harmless. Now if you’ll let me—”

“Harmless my foot,” she countered seductively, pressing her lower body to his. “I heard all about what you did last night. No one knew you were such a dark, wicked, vengeful brute.” Her red lips drew closer, pouting and whispering. “I could please you a hundred times more than Lily Lawson. Come to me and I’ll prove it.”