Samuel, Earl of Crofton by Rebecca Cohen

Author:Rebecca Cohen [Cohen, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-07-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

Samuel’s guests were happy. Most were in a state of debauchery, either drinking or wrapped around someone else. A few hands of cards were being played, the stakes were for sexual favours rather than money and he watched with amusement as usually excellent players seemed to forget the rules.

It was getting late, and he wanted to creep away to his bed, but it would be obvious he had retreated. Denmouth sent him a questioning look over the rim of his glass, and Samuel was sure he could read his mind as he got up and came to stand in front of him, beckoning his wife to come over. He held out his hand for Samuel to take and pulled him to his feet. “I hope you’re not too tired, Crofton.”

“I’m as fresh as a daisy.”

Denmouth moved to his side and slipped his arm around his waist. “Then I think you should show my wife and I how good a host you can be.”

Miranda came to his other side, mimicking her husband’s actions. “Yes, Samuel. We’d both also like to thank you personally for the invitation.”

Denmouth was an excellent actor and grinned lustily before he nuzzled into Samuel’s neck. “It’s been a while since we’ve spent some close time together.”

They’d never done what Denmouth was alluding to, but that didn’t matter as long as people thought they had. In a different life he could have seen them as lovers, he knew Denmouth occasionally took men to his bed.

“I would hate to be thought of as a terrible host. Let me introduce you both to the earl’s rooms.”

They made a show of leaving together, he had a hand on each arse, and revelled in the covetous stares they received as they left. Once in the hallway, Denmouth launched at him, tickling him mercilessly, and Samuel squawked and ran ahead, Denmouth and Miranda following in fits of giggles. No doubt his other guests would not interpret the noises for the innocent actions they were.

He led them to his rooms, they’d be his first visitors in there since he’d moved in. A carafe of red wine and three glasses had been left, he suspected at his father’s instruction—Charles possibly predicting Samuel’s need to escape more than he did. Miranda spotted the wine and poured them all a drink while Denmouth removed his shoes and tailcoat and sprawled on the sofa, patting the cushion next to him for Samuel to sit.

“It has been quite a memorable evening,” Denmouth said. “I think the trick with Bronwyn will have you go down in infamy as a man who can converse with ghosts.”

“Ghosts of witches no less,” said Miranda who sat curled up in an armchair. “You’re already becoming the toast of the Ton, at this rate you’ll be a bigger draw than King George.”

“Samuel’s already more popular than that corpulent blister.” Denmouth snorted at his wife and smacked Samuel’s thigh. “But the wheeze with Bronwyn was magnificent. Is any of it true?”

“She was a plain woman,

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