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putting them anywhere he wanted, and he could think of several friends who’d be willing to take up that wager.
    But he had a mistress for that sort of thing, or would have, as soon as he found someone to replace the divine Maria, who’d decided she’d rather have a fat old man with an even fatter pocket.
    At least there was the gathering of the Heavenly Host. He was looking forward to seeing Montague again, looking forward to indulging his more base appetites. Perhaps he could persuade one of the ladies present to dress in something unflattering and lecture him like Miss Spenser. And then he could proceed to give her exactly what he wasn’t allowed to give Charlotte.
    The perfect name for her. Charlotte—such a prim, disapproving word. He couldn’t imagine why he was interested, apart from the novelty of it all.
    He heard Lady Whitmore’s trill of laughter from across the room, and he smiled wickedly. Perhaps he would have to make do with Miss Spenser’s exquisite cousin. A noble compromise on his part, one he’d make quite easily. And by the time he returned to London he’d probably forget all about Miss Spenser and her longing eyes.
    Because he couldn’t just play with the virgin, not ifhe valued his freedom. But he could have her cousin, and that would more than suffice.
    â€œMy dear boy, I have been looking for you everywhere.” His cousin’s heavily accented voice greeted him as he finished the dance and relinquished Miss Leonard and her impressive bosom to her next partner.
    Adrian glanced at Etienne de Giverney. Actually his father’s cousin, and closer in age to the old man than to Adrian, Etienne had a kindness for his young cousin, and Adrian found he quite enjoyed the man’s company. For one thing, his parents disapproved of him, which was always a boon. For another, Etienne had a taste for things that bordered on the shocking. And while Adrian had sponsored his cousin’s entrance into English society, it was Etienne who’d ensured he’d be admitted to the exalted ranks of the Heavenly Host, despite the fact that his father, who had once presided over their revels, now held the group in contempt.
    But that was his father. The only man he knew more capable of administering a setdown than he was.
    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.
    â€œThere 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.
    â€œIf we can’t then we’re pitifully jaded indeed,” Adrian said in his perfect French.
    Etienne laughed. Leaving Adrian to wonder whether