Addicted
Bewdley,Worcestershire, England
1850
"Up and at 'em, milord."
The valet's gruff voice reached through the thick fog in his brain, disturbing the peaceful slumber and the lingering effects of the red smoke. "Sod off, Vallery," Lindsay groaned.
His valet, ever the dutiful gentleman's gentleman, groaned under Lindsay's weight as he pulled him up from the brocade divan. "Any other time I would, milord, but Lord Darnby and his chits will be here within an hour and I've got a day's debauchery to rid you of."
Lindsay felt his arm being thrown around Vallery's thick neck. His head lolled just a bit, forcing him to open his eyes. He was in his pleasure den, the remnants of last night's bacchanal still surrounding him.
With his valet's steadying hand and a few blinks of his burning eyes, Lindsay found himself slowly acclimating to the world around him. From the windows, he saw that the sky was not bright with the sun, but dark, the color of twilight. Bloody hell, what time was it?
"'Tis nearly seven, milord," Vallery answered as he saw Lindsay's confused gaze focus on the darkening skies. "You've been asleep all day. Now 'tis time to clean up."
Yes. A ba ... read full excerpt from: Addicted ebook
