Masquerade

Cassandra de Haviland knew how to give a party. Anthony had always enjoyed his sister’s soirees in the past, but tonight’s event promised to be one he might never forget. The small thoughts of revenge he’d entertained momentarily when Jack had sat down beside him at the club the night before had grown to immense proportions while he’d been with Shelley. Tonight’s deception had been all his idea despite the fact that the courtesan had the most devious mind Anthony had ever been privy to. That he also had a body made for the most sinful of acts only made his appeal that much greater to Anthony.

Over the past five years, no one had ever satisfied him as Shelley did and no one had been a better friend. Someone who knew Anthony during his years at university might think he’d acquired another Jack, someone both friend and lover. However, Anthony knew differently. He trusted Shelley far more than he trusted Jack. Even during the days of his blind devotion to Jack, he knew better than to trust that Jack would not lead him into something he would regret. Anthony knew Shelley would never lead him astray. He sometimes had the fleeting sense that Shelley would rather die than do anything that Anthony wouldn’t like.

And that was how, on the night of his sister’s ball, Anthony came to open the doors that led from his brother-in-law’s private study into the garden. Shelley slipped into the room, silent as death, his movements filled with a grace that fired Anthony’s libido. He let his gaze slide over the courtesan, taking in the perfectly tailored dinner jacket, the pristine white shirt and the neckcloth tied in an intricate but sporting knot. His trousers emphasized his leanly muscled thighs and his shoes shone like a mirror.

Shelley’s wheat blond waves had been dyed the color of Nash Sutherland’s, a rich chestnut. To most casual observers, Shelley looked like Nash, the most highly decorated and youngest Imperial Sky Commander the Empire had ever employed.  Anthony had no doubt that from across the room Jack would think he was looking at his lover.

A fierce sense of satisfaction raced through Anthony. Shelley’s deception would kill two birds with a single stone. Not only would his appearance as Nash startle and perhaps frighten the people responsible for taking Nash, but Jack’s surprise and shock would be wholly unfeigned to even the most casual of observers.  And Anthony would derive no small pleasure in enacting that small revenge upon his former lover. He even had a screw to turn if he so desired. And at the moment, he was primed to turn it.

“Are we ready?”

Shelley’s low murmur drew Anthony’s gaze to his lover’s supple lips. Shelley smiled as if he knew exactly what Anthony was thinking. He reached out one long forefinger and flicked at the underside of Anthony’s jaw. When Anthony lifted his head, Shelley leaned in and kissed him, hard and swift. Anthony’s breath caught in his throat. By the time he could draw another breath, Shelley had moved away toward the door, tossing Anthony an insouciant smile over his shoulder.

“Time for Cinderella to crash the ball.”

They slipped out of the study and Anthony led the way toward the ballroom. They strolled along the edge of the room and it took a minute before heads began to turn and gazes began to follow them. Anthony glanced over at Shelley and found him smiling enigmatically, much the same as Nash did. The resemblance was uncanny enough that it even gave Anthony a bit of a shiver.

At the far end of the ballroom, they stepped into a corridor and followed the sound of laughter and the scent of cigar smoke. Anthony tensed as he reached the arched double doorway of the card room. Shelley laid a hand on his shoulder as if to soothe him and Anthony shot him a grateful smile.

“Good luck,” he whispered.

Shelley returned his smile. “I don’t need luck. I’ve got you, darling,” the courtesan replied in a seductive voice and for a brief moment Anthony could have sworn he saw a flicker of emotion in Shelley’s cool gray eyes.

They stepped into the room together, pausing not far inside. Several card tables filled the space and a bar took up one end of the rectangular shaped room. Shelley stopped a passing footman and took a flute of champagne from the servant’s tray. He held it out to Anthony and took another glass for himself. They stood shoulder to shoulder, silently surveying the card tables. When Anthony’s gaze landed on Jack, sitting at a table with his brother-in-law and host, Westerfield de Haviland, he stiffened. Shelley turned slightly toward him.

“Jack Starrington, I presume,” he murmured in Anthony’s ear.

Anthony nodded and at that precise moment, Jack looked up, directly at them. His blue eyes widened in shock, his fingers tightening on the stem of his champagne flute.   Shelley smiled broadly at Jack, winked and then deliberately caught Anthony’s free hand. Pulling Anthony’s hand against his body, rubbing it over his groin, he continued to smile at Jack, raising his champagne flute in a silent salute.

Biting back a gasp of arousal, Anthony held himself motionless as Shelley ground his half erect cock against Anthony’s now tingling palm, all before the horrified and rage filled gaze of Jack Starrington. Then Shelley bent to Anthony’s ear.

“Time to find my pumpkin.”

He turned to face Anthony, pressed another swift, hard kiss to his lips and then slipped out the door. Across the room, there was a loud audible snap as the stem of Jack’s glass broke and champagne spilled onto the green baize of the card table. Footmen rushed forward with towels and Anthony used the distraction to quickly peruse the faces of the men present before slipping out of the card room too. He had no idea where Shelley had gone. Swiftly, he strode through his sister’s house toward the study. When he got there, he found the doors to the garden closed and locked from the inside. Where the hell was Shelley?

Hearing a footstep behind him, he spun on the balls of his feet, expecting Shelley. Instead, a hard body slammed into him, shoving him against the wood paneled wall. A hard forearm pressed against his throat, cutting off his air. For a moment, he struggled, but when his gaze met Jack’s angry one, he relaxed.

“Where the fuck is he? And why the fuck was he with you? Touching you?” Jack’s ragged breathing matched his angry expression.

For a moment, to Anthony’s surprise, a crazed set of emotions chased each other across Jack’s face. Then he rasped in a tortured voice, “For God’s sake, Anthony! Did I hurt you so badly that you had to do this to me?”

Instantly, Anthony regretted his and Shelley’s deception. Then, in the next second, he realized that regardless of what lay between him and Jack and between Jack and Nash, the deception had still been necessary to flush out those who had kidnapped Nash. The expressions he’d seen in the card room told him their deception had paid off in spades.

With a swift movement, he broke Jack’s hold. Startled, Jack stepped back. Anthony straightened his jacket and neckcloth. Fleetingly, he again wondered where Shelley had gone. But Jack stood before him, chest heaving, anger and pain flashing in his blue eyes and Anthony could hardly ignore his former lover’s fury. He bit back a sigh.  “Things are not what they seem, Jack.”

“Obviously, if you know how to break a choke hold and have no qualms kissing a man in public,” Jack retorted, a tick working in his tightly clenched jaw.

“There’s more to me than our mutual history, Mr. Imperial Spy.”

Anthony knew he sounded waspish, but he didn’t care.  Jack had a lot of nerve to have approached him after ten years of silence in order to help him find his lover. Anthony had discovered he wasn’t quite as well-mannered and forgiving as most people thought. He was perfectly willing to help Jack, but he also needed his pound of flesh and the look on Jack’s face in the card room, the broken glass, the way he looked at Anthony now with a combination of fear, anger, frustration and pain more than made up for what Anthony had suffered.  When Pierre Choderlos de Laclos wrote that revenge was a dish best served cold, he had been entirely correct.  However, now that Anthony had enjoyed Jack’s discomfiture, it was time to get down to business.

Jack jerked away from Anthony and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Anthony. I’ve treated you rather cavalierly and that was wrong of me.”

Jack’s gruff tones didn’t soften Anthony one bit. The spy deserved what he had gotten tonight.  Still, it was done now and they needed to move on to another subject.

“It was poorly done of you, Jack,” he agreed. “However, my little revenge aside, you surely know what happened here.”

Turning back toward Anthony, Jack’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you talking about, Anthony?”

“Your lover hasn’t betrayed you, Jack,” Anthony said with a grimace. “Surely, you aren’t such a poor judge of character that you would fall in love with a man who would betray you?”

A martial light began to glow in Jack’s eyes. “That wasn’t Nash,” he murmured, his voice a bare thread of sound.

“Obviously,” Anthony replied, repeating Jack’s earlier phrase but with a decidedly sarcastic tone. “However, this isn’t the place to discuss it. Would you care to repair to the club?”

Jack’s brows rose. “You feel safe discussing Nash’s disappearance at the club?”

Anthony shrugged. “You had no qualms discussing it there last evening and there are places there where we won’t be disturbed. Besides, I’m not taking you home with me, Jack.”

“Ahh, the lookalike won’t like that, eh?” Jack’s normal good humor returned in the blink of an eye and Anthony fought not to grit his teeth.

He strode toward the door, after one last glance at the doors to the garden. “My amours are none of your business.”

“Then you admit the man is your lover.”

Now, Anthony did grind his teeth. “I admit nothing of the kind.”

Jack snorted. “You’d never let a strange man rub your hand over his cock. He’s your lover.”

With a glare, Anthony hissed, “What he is, is a rare commodity and one that I refuse to let you exploit. You’d best get it into your skull now, Jonathan Starrington, you’re no longer running the show. You asked for my help and I’ve agreed to give it, but only if we play by my rules. Not yours.”

He walked out of the study and down the stairs to the entrance, not bothering to glance back to see if Jack followed. He knew Jack did, just as surely as he had no idea where Shelley had gotten to.  But he did know where he’d find Shelley eventually. The club.

Lex Valentine Anthony Banning, Jack Starr, Shelley Jefferson