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But those issues were for another day. Her first task was to assume her new duties, and lull all the occupants of the Sinners into believing she was harmless. She doubted Mr. Maclean would be much trouble, and her new employers seemed manageable and even quite likeable. Not that she would allow herself to like them
too
much. She was tired of being naïve, and determined to succeed in her objectives.
Squaring her shoulders, she walked into the sitting room, curtsied to the obviously pregnant Malinda Keyes, and made herself agreeable.
 
As soon as the door closed behind the interloper, the countess started speaking.
“I know you didn’t think you needed help, dear, but Malinda and I talked it over and we realized that our social engagements were hindering your ability to do your work properly, and we couldn’t have that.”
“I assure you that I can do all the work necessary and more, my lady, there is no need—”
The countess sat down and gazed at him, her blue eyes clear and guileless. “There is
every
need, Alistair. If I might be brutally frank, Diana has fallen on hard times, and she needs the salary I intend to offer her just as much as you need yours.”
“Then can she not find something more genteel, more
ladylike,
to do?”
“Are you suggesting that a woman might not be as capable as a man of being a secretary?”
He thought of his mother and eldest sister running the meager Maclean holdings and how they’d held the family together financially and physically after his father had died.
“She is undoubtedly capable, my lady, but still—” He frowned. “Theale . . . is she related to Mr. Nicodemus Theale who sometimes provides the Sinners with information?”
“Yes. It’s a rather complicated situation. Diana was married to Nico’s father.”
“Then she is his stepmother?”
“I suppose she might be considered as such, but Nico is illegitimate and wasn’t brought up by the Theales. He grew up in Hackney with his mother, who married someone else. Diana was Lord Theale’s third wife. When he died, she was left nearly penniless.”
After sorting through all the countess’s information, Alistair grimaced. “Having been in a similar situation when my own father died, I have great sympathy for her plight. Does she not have any family to care for her?”
The countess fixed him with a rather intimidating stare. “Not all women wish to be taken
care
of, Alistair. Some of us prefer to stand on our own two feet.”
“I am well aware of that, my lady. I meant no offense.” He considered his choices and faced the inevitable. “If you intend to employ Lady Theale, she had better set up an appointment with me after I’ve finished going through these books, so that I can hand over all the relevant information pertaining to you and Lady Benedict.”
The countess rose. “Oh, don’t worry too much about that, Alistair. I’ve agreed to let Diana use our apartment until she is more settled in London. She’ll be here all the time, so I expect you’ll be seeing a lot of her.”
“Indeed.”
He pictured the elegant face of Lady Theale, her aristocratic nose and the intelligence in her fine blue eyes. He didn’t think she held him in very high esteem. He might not appreciate having to share his responsibilities with another person, but he couldn’t deny that working with the lady might prove to be an interesting experience.
“Now, come along, Alistair. You can join us for tea and begin to get acquainted with Diana. She really is a remarkable woman.”
Having already learned that life was never as predictable as one might wish it to be, Alistair opened the door for the countess and meekly followed her to her sitting room. He could already hear Malinda Keyes’s distinctive voice and the quieter replies from Lady Theale. She’d taken off her bonnet and revealed her black, glossy hair, which was braided into a crown on the top of her head with just two curls dangling over her ears. Her neck was long and her olive skin held the warmth of the sun.
She didn’t bother to acknowledge him when he took his place opposite her at the fire. Her attention was fixed on Malinda, who was describing the renovations to her new house, the upcoming baby, and various other matters at a speed and complexity that made his head spin but seemed to make perfect sense to her listener.
After a little while he turned his attention to his tea and discovered that the countess was staring intently at her new employer.
“What is it, my lady?”
“Diana reminds me of someone.”
“She does bear a slight resemblance to her stepson, but one must assume that is just a coincidence.”
“One would hope so.” The countess chuckled. “Unless she and Nico are actually siblings, and share the same mother, in which case she would have married her mother’s lover and the father of her brother.”
Having become used to the unconventional nature of the Sinners, Alistair took her remarks in his stride. “Stranger things have happened, my lady. I believe Jack Lennox recently married his own aunt by marriage.”
“Who wasn’t really his aunt at all.”
Alistair shrugged. “I don’t believe either of them cared what society might think of them. It must be nice to feel so far above social conventions.”
“The aristocracy have always considered themselves above such things, Mr. Maclean, didn’t you know that?”
He looked across as Diana Theale spoke up. “I know it all too well.”
She smiled at him. “As do the poor French.”
“And the Scottish, my lady.”
“Alistair’s family have an ancient Scottish title, which was taken away from them when his grandfather took part in the last Jacobite rebellion,” Malinda said.
“That’s correct, my lady.”
“Which perhaps explains your animosity toward the current ruling class,” Diana Theale murmured.
“I have no animosity, my lady. My grandfather was a fool who risked everything for a fool, and lost.”
“And if one of the Stuarts came asking for your help, now, Mr. Maclean, would you turn him away?”
“Of course I would.”
“Even if he promised you untold riches and the restoration of your title?”
“Such promises are easy to make, and treacherous to keep.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You are a hard man, Mr. Maclean.”
“I’ve had to be, my lady.” He smiled back at her. “Would you care for some more tea?”
Once the ladies were settled, he politely excused himself and went back to his office. There was still a lot of work to do, and if he were to provide information for his new female counterpart, he would be working long into the night.
“Mr. Maclean.”
He looked up to see the butler barring his path.
“Yes?”
“Your brother is here. I have put him in your office.”
“Thank you.” Alistair increased his pace. So much for Harry’s avowal that he would never bother him at work....
“Good afternoon, Harry, how can I—?” He went still. “What the devil are you looking for?”
His brother was casually investigating his desk drawers. “Calm down, Alistair. I’m not stealing state secrets or anything. I just wondered if you had my signet ring, the one Grandfather left me.”
“I’ve never had it, Harry.” Alistair leaned back against the door. “What do you need it for?”
“What do you think?” Harry’s hard blue gaze met his. “I need to pay back a gambling debt.”
Alistair’s hand clenched into a fist. “How much?”
“Nothing that need concern you.”
He advanced toward his brother. “How
much?

“I don’t need a lecture, Alistair. I need money, fast.” Harry held up his hand. “I know what you are going to say. I deserve your scorn and your anger. I’m also fully aware that I am a disgrace to the family, and all the rest of it, so could we avoid the moralizing and could you just give me the ring or the money?”
“I don’t have any money.”
“I don’t believe you.” Harry’s charming smile flashed out. “Come on, Alistair, help me out. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t have any money left to give you.”
Harry’s face went blank. “Then I’m doomed.”
Alistair reached into the pocket of his coat. “I’ll fund your coach ticket to Scotland. Why don’t you take me up on that offer and rusticate for a while?”
“Because I’m not like you! I can’t run away every time something happens!”
“Then what do you intend to do?”
His brother gave a careless shrug. “Find someone who
will
help me.”
Alistair half-turned as his office door opened and Adam Fisher came in.
“Alistair, I—”
“My brother is just leaving, Mr. Fisher.”
Harry came around the desk, his charming smile firmly in place. “Adam, how lovely to see you.”
“Maclean.”
Harry winced. “And we were once so close.” His gaze swept Adam’s tense features. “I miss you, you know.” He sauntered even closer. “I probably made a mistake in leaving you.” He reached out his hand and Adam stepped back.
“Good-bye, Maclean.” Adam turned to Alistair. “Come and see me when you’re free.”
“Yes, sir.”
Harry pouted. “Am I nothing more than a nuisance to you both, now? The two men I thought would always love and support me most?”
Adam opened the door. “I heard what you were saying to your brother, Maclean. I don’t have any money to give you either.”
Something flashed behind Harry’s eyes, and his face grew hard. “Is that the case? Perhaps I should seek out one of the scandal sheets and share the details of our
friendship
with them? Would the public wish to know that a man entrusted with the nation’s secrets loves nothing more than to get down on his knees and suck cock?” He slowly shook his head. “I’m fairly certain they would be suitably shocked and demand your resignation, and what would you do then?”
“Harry—” Alistair growled.
Adam Fisher held up his hand and looked calmly across at Harry. “You can say whatever you like about me, I can’t stop you. All I know is that I will never pay you a penny to keep that information to yourself. I’ve no desire to be blackmailed for the rest of my life.”
Harry bowed. “Then you are a brave man, Mr. Fisher.” He blew his former lover a kiss. “I must be off. I have a signet ring to search for. If you find it, Alistair, please let me know. Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
He went through the door whistling under his breath as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Alistair turned on his heel to follow, but Adam touched his arm.
“Will you let me handle this?”
“It’s not your problem, sir.”
“I’ll just make sure he is safely off the premises and then make certain he isn’t admitted again.” He pressed Alistair’s arm. “Stay here.”
With a groan, Alistair sank down into the chair behind his desk and lowered his head to his hands. When he eventually looked up again, his employer sat opposite him.
“There’s nothing to worry about, he’s gone.” Adam paused. “He won’t reveal my sexual inclinations to the public.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“Because if he exposes me, he’ll ultimately expose himself, and I stand a much better chance of weathering the scandal than he does. Harry can’t afford to let society kick him out completely. He lives off them.”
“But he seems desperate, and I have nothing left to give him. . . .” Alistair sighed. “In truth, I’ve sworn not to give him any more money even if I have it. He simply uses it to gamble or drink and we’re right back where we started.”
“That’s an excellent decision, but one that I should imagine is very hard to keep.” Adam smiled. “I have to keep reminding myself not to fall for his charm. I gave him all the coins from my pocket as he left.”
“I offered him his coach fare to Scotland.”
“Then we are both fools, are we not?” Adam shook his head. “He will not bother you here again, at any rate. I’ve instructed Maddon not to admit him.”
“I fear I am bringing more trouble to your door than I am worth.”
Adam stood and smiled down at Alistair. “The Sinners always attracts trouble and we always deal with it. You do your job very well. We have no intention of blaming you for the sins of your brother, or of your employer’s foolish choice of lovers.”
“That is very good of you.”
“I hear we are to have a new secretary. Have you met her yet?”
“Yes, she is most agreeable.”
Adam nodded. “Good. I’m sure you will work well together. Now I must get back to writing this report or Keyes will give me hell.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“For what?”
“For coming to my aid.”
Adam paused at the door and looked over his shoulder. “To be honest, I did it more for myself than for you. I’ve been avoiding your brother and that didn’t solve anything. Seeing him today, hearing him speak to you like that, reminded me of why I’d decided to walk away in the first place. It was most illuminating.”
He nodded and went out leaving Alistair staring down at his unfinished accounts while his mind warred with his body. It was far easier to walk away from a person when you weren’t related by blood and guilt. He would stay until the books were safely balanced and put away and then reward himself with a trip to the pleasure house. It was that or drink his way through a bottle of brandy, which would leave him with a terrible headache. Better to abuse his body in a different way.
With that thought to sustain him, Alistair turned back to his books with renewed enthusiasm.
3
“B
ack again, Mr. Maclean?”
“Yes.”
“Private or business tonight?”
“Private.” Alistair nodded at Donal Murray, one of the pleasure house staff who managed the notorious top floor.
“There’s a good crowd here.” Donal held the door open for Alistair. “Is there anyone in particular you’re after?”
“Is Lady M here?”
“I believe she is, sir.”
“Then I’m sure I’ll find her. I’ll just go and change.”
Alistair hurried through to one of the small retiring rooms set aside for those who wished to play on the third floor where sex had no boundaries and anonymity was guaranteed. He took off his clothes, folded them neatly, and put them in a pile on one of the shelves. He changed into the livery of the pleasure house—old-fashioned tight black satin pantaloons, white shirt, and a blue waistcoat.
He didn’t bother with a cravat or a coat. It would be hot in the rooms and those items would soon be discarded. And it made him feel gloriously free not to wear much clothing or even put on his shoes. The last item was a black mask that tied at the back and concealed half his face. Not that any of the patrons would recognize him. Dressed like this, he was merely one of the staff, and obviously of no account. Even in this, his secret life, he preferred to remain anonymous.
After a deep breath, he opened the door and made his way down to the main salon. One of the other liveried men came up to him and smiled.
“Do you wish to serve food or drinks, Mr. Scott?”
“Whatever you wish.” Alistair took the tray of red wine that was passed to him and began to circle through the chattering guests. He reckoned there were about forty people in the room, which was a lot for the upper floor.
As he offered the tray of drinks to the guests, some touched his arse, or stroked his arm, or simply stared at him, measuring his assets in a way that reminded him of a horse fair. Not that he objected. The stares only made him lower his gaze and his heart beat faster.
“Scot!”
A be-ringed hand waved imperiously at him, and he headed toward a cluster of chairs.
“My lady.”
The blond-haired beauty beckoned him forward impatiently. “Where have you been, my little Scottie dog? Put down that tray and come here immediately!”
She snapped her fingers, and Alistair carefully put the silver tray down on one of the tables. Without a word, he went down on his knees beside Lady M and allowed her to pat his head.
“Where is your collar?” The gentle caress turned into a sudden tug of his hair that made his breath hiss out. “You naughty boy. Did you lose it again?”
He nodded and her grip tightened. “Well, I’ll have to punish you for that, won’t I?” She raised her voice. “James, will you fetch me a collar?”
Alistair waited quietly on his knees until she yanked his head up by his hair again.
“Let’s put this on you.”
He let her fasten the simple leather collar around his neck and buckle it rather too tight. He swallowed convulsively, and her brown eyes narrowed. “Is it too tight for you, my dear? But if you insist on losing it, I have to make sure it stays put, don’t I?”
He quieted his breathing, aware of her gathering her skirts and rising above him. She snapped her fingers again, and he rose too, keeping his gaze on her slippered feet.
“Come with me.”
He followed her out of the noisy salon and down to one of the smaller rooms that branched off the main corridor. Usually, she liked to deal with him in public, so this change of plan made him a little nervous. He’d chosen her because of her predictability. Even in this setting he preferred to know what he was letting himself in for.
She left the door of the room open, and he followed her inside. There was an upright wooden rack at one end and a few chairs at the other. The far wall was shelved and displayed a fine collection of whips, chains, and sexual toys for those who liked to use them or endure them.
Lady M sat on one of the more comfortable chairs and pointed at her feet.
“Kneel down, draw up my skirts, and make me come with your mouth.”
“Yes, my lady.” He was aware of a sense of relief, as she demanded he do exactly what she always asked for.
“Keep your hands behind your back while you do it, mind.”
“Yes, my lady.”
He knelt and carefully folded her silk skirts away from her legs until he could see the tops of her ribbon-tied stockings and her shaved mound. Breathing in her scent, he bent his head and licked her clit until she sighed and spread her thighs even wider.
“Keep going.”
He obliged her, keeping his hands locked behind him, and used just his tongue and his teeth to bring her to a sharp, gasping climax. His cock was hard now and pressed against the confines of his breeches in a way that made his body ache with need. Speaking of aching, his right hip wasn’t entirely happy with having to kneel on the hardwood floor, but he refused to acknowledge the pain. It would disappear when he got what he craved.
“Stand up.”
He stood awkwardly, trying to keep his hands away from her.
“Fetch me a riding crop.”
He bowed and turned to the wall of supplies, selecting the implement she requested, and returned to kneel before her.
“Now, do I punish you first, or wait until you’ve finished pleasuring me?”
Her gaze wandered over him, but he didn’t make direct eye contact. That wasn’t part of the game they engaged in. He was her plaything, and he wasn’t allowed to have an opinion—although he knew her well enough now to know what she’d do next.
“Stand by the rack and place your hands on the top bar.”
He almost smiled as she spoke. She couldn’t resist the opportunity to watch him suffer. It would only heighten her pleasure when she finally let him fuck her.
The rustle of silk announced her presence behind him, and Alistair wiped all traces of amusement from his expression and stared at the opposite wall. He had a sense that Lady M wasn’t the only person who was watching him, but that wasn’t unknown in the pleasure house. The door was open, signifying anyone was free to look in, and there were plenty of peepholes within the walls for those who preferred a more voyeuristic approach.
“Widen your stance.”
The crack of the riding crop against his arse made him jump and tighten his grip on the wooden support over his head. A pleasurable heat built on his skin as she wielded the whip, and then it became mixed with pain and he was no longer smiling, but enduring. He closed his eyes and started to count the strokes, aware that she was being more brutal than usual and wondering why.
Unlike her, he knew exactly who she was in real life. He always investigated his partners. It meant he had information on hand if things went awry. She was the bored, much younger wife of a promising aristocrat who was steadily working his way toward the most senior of government positions. He understood why she came to the pleasure house and her need to take her frustrations out on someone else. He probably understood her better than he understood himself.
She paused and he became aware of the harshness of his own breathing and the way his fingernails were biting into his palms. She moved closer, the scent of her perfume filling his nostrils, and undid the placket of his breeches. He groaned as she roughly freed his hard cock and wrapped her hand around the base.
“Lie on the floor on your back, Scot, and put your hands over your head.”
He sank down onto the hard floor, wincing as his well-beaten arse came in contact with the wooden planks, and stretched out, arms obediently over his head. She retrieved one of the already prepared sheep-gut condoms the pleasure house provided, slid it down over his cock, and tied the ribbon tightly at the base.
“Now . . .” She straddled him. “Don’t move. I just want your cock, not the rest of you.” She pinched his cheek. “And don’t come until I give you leave.”
“Yes, my lady.”
She slowly sank down over his cock, and he concentrated on behaving like her personal dildo. Just a hard cock for her to move on, with no say in the matter, no input, and no value. Just how he liked it. He might enjoy being used, but even that would be on his own terms.
 
The release of the previous evening made the sight of Diana, Lady Theale, sitting in his office when he walked in much less alarming than it might have been. She wore a plain, round-necked gown in a blue patterned fabric with a modest bodice and no jewelry apart from a gold cross around her neck. Her black hair was again braided on top of her head in a rather severe style that suited her all too well.
“Good morning, my lady. How may I help you?” He took his seat behind his desk and smiled at her.
“Good morning, Mr. Maclean. I was hoping that you might have time to go through the duties I am assuming for the ladies of the house.”
“Of course, my lady.” He patted a stack of papers on his left. “I have all the information you require right here, including copies from my diary of all the upcoming social and business engagements the countess and Lady Benedict have already committed to.”
“That is most efficient of you.”
“You didn’t see me at my best yesterday, my lady. I must apologize for that.” He risked another smile, but she didn’t offer one in return. “Did the countess take you around the house?”
“No, she hoped you might have time to do so.”
Alistair rose and bowed. “I am always happy to oblige the Countess of Westbrook. We can do that now before we settle down to business.”
With a nod, she stood up and smoothed down her skirts. She was of average height for a woman, but she carried herself like a queen.
“Let’s start in the kitchens, my lady, so that you can meet the staff.”
Diana wasn’t surprised by Alistair Maclean’s more gracious attitude to her. She’d already deduced that, unlike his loathsome brother, he was the kind of man who made the best of things.
He’d also spent an evening at the pleasure house.
“And these are the more public rooms of the Sinners. Our members can congregate here just as in any club in London, read the papers, meet other members, and have a decent dinner.”
“There are also rooms set aside for those who wish to stay?” She asked the question, even though she already knew the answer.
“Yes.” Mr. Maclean picked up a badly folded newspaper and straightened it out before replacing it exactly on top of the periodical underneath. “I assume you are willing to deal with general matters arising from the female members of the club? I fear I sometimes do not understand their needs as well as I should.”
“I am quite willing to do that, in fact Lady Westbrook suggested it.” She followed him through to the deserted dining room, where the tables were already laid for anyone who wanted luncheon. “Is there anything else I can help you with? The countess did mention something about the second floor, and appreciating some female input into what goes on there.”
“She did?” Mr. Maclean blinked his vivid leaf-green eyes at her. “Did she specify exactly what she meant?”
Diana held his gaze. “I understand that certain
entertainments
are provided on a monthly basis as suggested by some of the members of the club. Is that not correct?”
“Indeed.”
He walked back out onto the landing and continued up the stairs with her a step behind him. It was almost amusing watching him struggle with what he considered suitable to share with her. Even more amusing if she considered what she knew of him.
He eventually stopped at the top of the stairs, and waited for her to join him.
“What exactly did Lady Westbrook tell you about these entertainments?”
“Just that they were of a sexual nature and were entirely private and much enjoyed by the membership.”
“She was correct about all of those things.” A muscle twitched in his cheek. “I am responsible for gathering the suggestions and seeing whether I can bring their ‘fantasies’ to life.”
“And how would one do that?”
He opened the nearest door for her, and they stepped into a small cozy salon with doors that led into another room and then another.
“There is a book where suggestions for the entertainment can be left.” He pointed out a large red leather tome on a pedestal. “I read them and consult with my employers before seeking assistance from another, outside party if necessary.”
“Why would you need to do that?”
“Because sometimes our membership does not include fire swallowers, or snake charmers, or acrobats from Asia who can contort themselves into the most erotic shapes imaginable.”
“Oh, I see.” She opened the book at random and read through a couple of the suggestions. “Or pirates or marauding vikings, from the sound of it.” She raised her gaze to meet his. “I’ve just realized that I should be insulted.”
“In what way, my lady?”
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