man who thought him worthless. Anger streamed through him and threatened to submerge his usual common sense.
“Do you think I’m just playing at having a job?”
Val’s eyebrows rose. “I beg your pardon?”
“Do you think you are the only one who can masquerade as a tradesman and yet still be in line for the position of marquis?”
“I don’t want the title. You know that.”
“Easy for you to say when it’s yours, regardless.”
“Do you want it?”
“No! It’s just…” Anthony sighed in frustration.
A muscle twitched in Val’s cheek. “Go on.”
“I’ve worked hard for you and I’ve enjoyed every minute. Unlike many of my aristocratic friends, I still have my fortune intact, my health and my wits.”
“I’m not sure about your wits.”
Unease gnawed at Anthony’s gut. “What?”
Valentin held his gaze. “You are late because you spend too much time whoring at Madame’s pleasure house.”
“And you never did that? Strange, I heard your reputation was legendary.”
“I like to fuck, yes, but not like you do.”
Anthony straightened. “And how do you know how I like to fuck?”
“I met Lord Minshom last night. In fact, he deliberately put himself in my way so that I had no choice but to speak to him.”
“So?”
“He told me how much he enjoyed ‘having’ you last night.”
“So?”
Val moved in close. “Dammit, Anthony, that man is a sexual predator of the worst kind. He likes to hurt, to punish and to humiliate.”
“Perhaps he was lying.”
“He wasn’t. This isn’t the first rumor that has reached me about your sexual tastes.”
Anthony found he was trembling, a bone-deep tremor that he couldn’t control. “Did Peter tell you what he saw me doing while you were ‘having’ him?”
Valentin’s face tightened and his hand shot out. Anthony found himself flattened against the wall, Val’s fingers at his throat. Every bruise on his body screamed a protest.
“Peter didn’t tell me anything. And my relationship with him is my own business. This discussion is about you.”
“I am perfectly capable of doing this job.”
Val didn’t release his punishing grip. “Really? Well you have the rest of this month to prove that to me and Peter before we ask you to leave.”
He stepped back and rearranged the sleeve of his navy coat. “I have no wish to tell you how to live your life, but I cannot allow you to ruin my business.”
Anthony cleared his throat. “Nice to see you have your priorities in order, Valentin. Business first, family second. You sound just like our father.”
Valentin’s mouth quirked up in the corner. “For our father, family is business.” He let out his breath. “I have no right to tell you what to do. I can only offer you the benefit of my own experience.”
Anthony stepped away from the wall and resumed his position at his desk. His fingers shook so badly he didn’t dare pick up the pen knife in case he cut himself. He risked a smile at his brother.
“Please don’t, Val. I’ve already had Madame Helene to deal with this morning, and no doubt I’ll be hearing from Peter soon. I’m quite capable of resolving my own mistakes; in fact, I’d already decided to do so.”
Valentin barked a laugh and turned to the door. “That’s what I told myself, and look what a disaster that turned out to be.”
“You have Sara, and a firstborn son. Doesn’t that make you a lucky man?”
Val turned slowly around to stare at Anthony, his fine features for once softer and unguarded. “Yes it does, but I wasted many years denying my true self and what had been done to me.”
“Then if you are at peace with your past, why can’t you believe I will achieve that too?”
Anthony tensed at Valentin’s suddenly shuttered expression.
“I hope you do, brother. I truly hope you do. But allowing a man like Lord Minshom to own you, body and soul, scarcely seems the right way to achieve your aim.”
“He does not own me.”
Valentin’s eyebrows rose. “Perhaps you should tell him that. He sounded remarkably proprietorial.”
Anthony set his jaw and held his brother’s gaze. “Damn you, he does not own me.”
Val bowed and headed for the door. “Then I wish you luck with your new path and hope you do not get led astray again.”
“Thanks, Val. You have nothing to worry about, truly. I’ll be a reformed man.”
His brother’s laugh echoed down the hall as he shut the door. Anthony barely restrained himself from running after him and planting him a facer. How dare his brother have so little faith in his ability to change? How dare he laugh?
Anthony took a deep breath and let it out. He’d prove everyone wrong. He’d become a model citizen, a business man of renown and a noted ladies’ man—as soon as he’d found out what the Delornay twins wanted with him at dinner tonight. A thread of excitement wormed its way through his gloom.
2
Even at this early hour, the public rooms at the pleasure house were busy. At least forty people were gathered in the large salon, chattering and laughing, anticipating the delights Madame Helene had surely arranged for them. Anthony wondered how many of them frequented the top floor, the place where pain and pleasure blended and all pretenses were stripped away.
With a sense of wary anticipation, he spotted Christian at the buffet table and moved toward him.
“Good evening, Mr. Delornay.”
“Good evening, my lord.” Christian bowed and stepped back. “May I introduce my sister, Lisette?”
Anthony took the proffered hand and kissed it. Lisette Delornay was almost as tall as her brother, her fair hair not quite as blond, her eyes hazel. If the rumors were true, and Anthony had excellent sources, she looked more like her father, Lord Philip Knowles, than her twin did.
Despite her age, her smile was as sensual as her mother’s, and Anthony couldn’t help smiling back.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord.” Lisette
