a setdown than he Etienne, being French, had more than a passing acquaintance with some of the darker practices shunned by polite society. He had introduced his second cousin to the pleasures of the opium pipe and ways he could gratify himself alone that were as inventive as they were dangerous.
Unlike his father, who seemed to have forgotten his own disreputable youth, he encouraged Adrian's love of curricle racing, and he played for stakes even higher than Adrian did, with more success.
Adrian never cared if he won or lost. His inheritance, even before his esteemed old man gave up the ghost, was huge, though not quite as impressive as Maria's fat gentleman, the nabob. And at least with Etienne he was never, ever bored.
No, he could look forward to three days of delicious debauchery, as well as a much-needed visit with his dearest friend Montague. He wasn't going to think about Miss Spenser again, he was certain of it.
"There is little sport here, enfin? ” Etienne said. "Let us see if we can find something to entertain us at Le Rise."
Le Rise was quite the most daring of all the houses of ill repute, the second best thing to the gatherings of the Heavenly Host. The gaming stakes were extremely high and at times quite shocking, the wines were tolerable and the other entertainments were quite irresistible. It was almost impossible to gain entry unless one was of the very highest level. Adrian had been one of the first members, of course, and Etienne was admitted as his guest.
"If we can't then we're pitifully jaded indeed," Adrian said in his perfect French.
Etienne laughed. Leaving Adrian to wonder whether he might not have spoken the ugly truth.
3
Normally the thought of a trip to the countryside would have been Charlotte's idea of perfection. She had never been overly fond of London. It was noisy, smelly and dirty, and while the opportunities for theater and lending libraries and the company of like-minded women were stimulating, the thought of rusticating, at least for a short while, was divine.
Bui divine had nothing to do with how Charlotte intended to spend her time in Sussex. The Mad Monks were meeting for their debauched revels, and she was to be a part of them.
The trip in Lina's well-sprung barouche had been almost too short. At Lina's suggestion she wore a bonnet that concealed most of her face, and kept her head down. Her height likely gave her away—
there were few women quite as long-limbed as she was— but she had every intention of managing a crablike scuttle to appear shorter and more subservient. It was to be hoped that anyone who gave her a second glance would assume she was Lina's maid, because even amid full debauchery a lady still needed her personal attendant. Meggie had been brought along as well, and had anyone asked, the answer would have been that the Countess of Whitmore required her own hair dresser. In fact no one asked. Such concerns over propriety had been absent. By the time they were settled in the distressingly normal rooms at Hensley Court they had seen no one, not even their ailing host, and Charlotte's nervousness began to decline.
"It's very simple, darling," Lina said airily as they drank their afternoon tea, thoughtfully provided by Montague's excellent staff. 'The monk's robe will cover you completely, from the top of your head down to the very tips of your toes, and you're so tall everyone will assume you're a man. Just try not to hunch, dearest. Throw your shoulders back but keep your head bowed. You won't need to say a word—your vow of silence is evidenced by the brown color of your robe, and your watcher's status is signaled by the white trim on your sleeves. You may move freely around the grounds, though on no account go near the Portal of Venus. All rules are off there, but I'll point it out to you before I get... er. ..distracted. You can go anywhere else, unless a door is locked, but that's usually signaled by a gentleman's neckcloth attached to the outer door. As long as those remain the couple or group inside don't wish to be disturbed."
"Group?" Charlotte said faintly. What had started out as a lark was becoming far too real, and she wondered whether it was too late to change her mind, if she'd wanted to, that is.
“Sweetheart," Lina said patiently, "that's what an orgy is. Two people is simply sex, three