would be enough people that she would be unlikely to see Adrian Rohan—
or if she did, he'd be dressed in the same enveloping robe and she wouldn't recognize him.
But not all the gentlemen and ladies wore religious habits. From her brief, nervous glance she'd seen that Rohan was dressed in simple breeches, a loose white shirt and a long, sleeveless coat. For a moment she wondered why he was dressed so informally, and then she realized it was in order to undress easily and quickly, without the aid of a valet.
She didn't even want to think about the beautiful viscount taking off his clothes. The thought of Adrian Rohan naked made her quite breathless, and she was already rattled enough by simply being here. She took another quick look behind her. He was alone, too close, and looking straight at her.
There was no way he could know who she was— her disguise was too good. And Lina had once casually told her that Rohan had never been par! of the peculiar practice of male love, so he couldn't be looking in her direction. Could he?
But still he kept moving toward her, and she panicked, moving deeper into the shadows. The torches were spaced farther apart, the errant moon providing most of the fitful lighting. A temple rose in front of her, a crescent-shaped structure of white limestone, and past the columns she thought she spied a large, shallow pool.
For a moment she breathed a sigh of relief. This was peaceful, safe, lovely in the moonlight, hidden away from the insanity beyond, a haven...
"Demme, but I knew if I waited long enough I'd find someone young and fresh," a fruity voice said in her ear, and she jumped, panicked, ready to run.
The man was wearing a monk's robe, but his cowl was down and she recognized him. Sir Reginald Cowper, he of the obscenely large fortune, and the seven grandchildren, and the saintly reputation and avuncular charm. There was nothing avuncular about him now.
Before she could move, his heavy hand clamped onto her arm. "Shy, are you?" The old man chuckled.
"Well, I like a timid young lad in my bed. You're new here..."
A myriad of emotions assailed her. Astonishment that Sir Reginald, he of the numerous descendants, preferred...this. Annoyance at the grip on her arm. She shook her head vehemently, trying to pull away, but his thick fingers tightened. Lina had promised her that no one was ever forced, that her strip of white riband was a safe passage. But Sir Reginald didn't seem to remember the rules. She tried to twist in his grasp to show him her badge, but it was gone.
"No need to be so shy, me lad," Sir Reginald said, slurring slightly, and she realized he was very drunk. "I won't hurt you. I'll let you be the one to—"
"No poaching, Reggie." A familiar, mocking voice broke through her struggles, and she froze.
"I saw him first, Rohan," Sir Reginald wheezed. "He came through the Portal of Venus—that makes him fair game. Besides, I know full well you're only interested in cunt.” That was a new word for her, but Charlotte had little doubt that it was extremely crude. She glanced up at Rohan's face from beneath her enveloping cowl. He looked the same as always, as if this were a formal ball and he was bored to tears. "Perhaps I'm growing broad-minded," he said in a lazy voice.
“I’m in search of novelty and this young monk is perfect. My sainted father has always insisted I treat my elders with exquisite respect, and I would regret having to floor you, but I'm afraid you'll simply have to take no for an answer.”
Astonishment was assailing Charlotte from all directions as she listened to this interchange. But Sir Reginald hadn't released her arm, and his lower lip stuck out in a sulky glower. "I'm not giving him up," the old man said mutinously.
Rohan lifted his hand, and there was a strand of white ribbon wrapped around his long, elegant fingers.
Sir Reginald's response was suitably profane, but the grip on her arm loosened, then released her.
"Very well. I cede to your earlier interest, and to the sign of favor you hold. Gentlemen must follow the rules of order..." he muttered half to himself. "But listen to me, young man," he added, leaning over and breathing alcoholic fumes on her shrouded face. "Next time, don't come through the portal alone, or I might be tempted to ignore those rules."
She wasn't sure what