Chapter One
"You spend a night allowing a woman to drip molten
wax on your chest, and afterward everyone casts you
as the villain." Dashiel Blackmore, Lord Swansborough, leaned
back into his leather club chair and grinned.
His friend, Sir William Kent, Bow Street's magistrate and a
gentleman who could remain composed while handing down
a sentence that sent a youth to a prison hulk, blanched in
shock and embarrassment at this casual remark.
"Good lord, you're depraved, Swansborough." Sir William
shook his head as he lifted his brandy and drained the last
half inch. He adjusted his spectacles over intense blue eyes,
his fingers brushing the long healed scar from a footpad's attack.
"What sort of madness was that about?"
"The anticipation of each burning drop." Dash crooked
his fingers, then made a snuffing motion, and an obedient,
well trained girl immediately leaped to do his bidding.
Winslow's, t ...
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