The Erotic Dark (20 page)

“Yes, well, I understand there are limits to everything. And everyone.”

Gabriel fastened on a black mask before taking Lydia’s hand and leading her out of the room. Her hand tightened on his when the voices grew louder.

“How many people are here?”

“Forty or so.”

To Lydia’s eternal gratitude, Gabriel kept hold of her hand as they went downstairs, but then she had to let go of him in order to hold up the multiple folds of her petticoats and skirt. She walked with care, unaccustomed to the size of the skirt and the movement of the panniers.

Strings of Chinese lanterns had been strung up outside, lending a colorful glow to the gardens. Reddish light from the sunset streamed through the windows. Dozens of vases filled with fresh flowers had been placed throughout the house, and music drifted from a six-piece orchestra at one end of the ballroom. The French doors of the drawing room had been opened, allowing for a constant flow of people.

Guest milled about drinking champagne and munching on hors d’oeuvres. Their costumes were elaborate and exotic, ranging from a woman dressed as Cleopatra to a man wearing a Roman emperor costume. There was a fairy princess, a Japanese samurai, a medieval monk, a sexy cat.

All of the guests wore eye-masks that concealed their true identity. Voices and crystal laughter floated through the rooms, filling the air with noise. It was a very strange contrast to the silence with which Lydia had become so comfortable.

Her anxiety abated somewhat when Gabriel began introducing her to the guests. They were all polite enough, but didn’t question her presence in the house or her relationship to the three men. They complimented her costume, requested that she dance with them later, suggested she try certain hors d’oeuvres.

Gabriel brought her a glass of wine just as Preston appeared dressed as a French nobleman from the Revolutionary period. He smiled and stroked Lydia’s cheek.

“Lovely girl. I thought it would be amusing if we were paired in costume. Save a dance for me, would you?”

Lydia nodded, but stayed close to Gabriel as they mingled with the guests. Her corset continued to feel uncomfortably tight, her body weighted with the heaviness of her costume. After having spent weeks in thin, cotton dresses—or nothing at all—it was decidedly peculiar to feel so constrained.

“You must be Lydia.” A petite, young woman dressed in a Cleopatra costume stopped next to her. She wore a black wig with a serpent-shaped tiara, and a gold top that displayed an impressive amount of pillowy cleavage. Her long legs were visible beneath a gauzy skirt, her waist accented by a braided, gold chain. “I’m Helen, one of Gabriel’s friends.”

Lydia murmured words of greeting, while simultaneously sensing the other woman was laying some sort of claim on Gabriel.

“I haven’t seen you at any of the other parties,” Helen continued.

“This is Lydia’s first time here,” Gabriel interjected smoothly, placing his hand on Lydia’s back. “You’ll be seeing much more of her, I’m sure.”

“Will I?” Helen smiled at Lydia. “What a treat. How did you come to meet Gabriel?”

“Through Preston,” Lydia answered truthfully.

Something flared in Helen’s eyes behind her gold mask. “Ah. And how long have you known Preston?”

“Long enough.”

“I see.” Helen smiled at Lydia’s evasive response and turned her attention to Gabriel. “Gabriel, I’d love to dance with you tonight.”

“I’d be delighted.”

“Good. Come and find me when you’re ready.” Helen drifted off toward the gardens, reaching out to pluck a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

Lydia turned to Gabriel to ask him more about Helen, but he had already started a new conversation with another woman.

With a shrug, Lydia sipped her wine and continued watching the crowd. Kruin was standing near the French doors, looking extremely impressive in a gladiator costume. The two women near him appeared entirely captivated by his dominating physique.

“Well, aren’t you pretty?”

Lydia looked up to find a corpulent, older man standing in front of her. He wore a Victorian-style suit, complete with a frilly, lace cravat and cuffs. His thinning, white hair was settled into an untidy heap upon his head, his blue eyes watery.

Lydia smiled slightly and turned back to Gabriel, only to find he had disappeared into the crowd. She felt momentarily bereft before reminding herself she couldn’t expect him to remain by her side all evening. And she was certainly capable of spending an evening among strangers, even if it was in such a strange context.

“I’m Wallace,” the man announced, his eyes drifting to her breasts. “I know you’re Lydia. You’re absolutely exquisite in that dress.”

“Thank you.”

“Dance with me, would you?”

Before Lydia could protest, Wallace grasped her hand and pulled her toward the dance floor. Lydia caught sight of Preston near the door. He gave her an approving smile as Wallace guided her into a waltz. Although it was difficult to move in her wide, sweeping skirts, Lydia had always enjoyed dancing and didn’t mind several turns around the dance floor with Wallace.

However it wasn’t long before her enjoyment vanished. Wallace kept pushing his round stomach against her and holding her too closely for comfort, which annoyed Lydia despite the fact that her costume provided a barrier between them.

“Maybe later we can enjoy another type of entertainment, hmm?” Wallace asked.

Lydia grimaced. “I don’t think so. And please don’t hold me so tightly.”

His face creased into a frown. “Preston told me you were attractive, but not very friendly. I didn’t believe him.”

“Well, he was right, wasn’t he?” Lydia said tersely, straining to pull away from him. “I really don’t want to be held so tightly.”

She was relieved when another man requested a dance with her, and then Preston appeared on the floor.

“You seem to be doing quite well, despite your earlier protests,” he said as he swept her into a minuet. “You’re enjoying yourself?”

Lydia nodded, even though her costume was becoming increasingly warm and uncomfortable. She was beginning to perspire, and the exertion of dancing seemed to have tightened the constriction of her corset. Her feet, crammed into heeled shoes with buckles, were also beginning to hurt.

As she looked at Preston’s amused expression, Lydia realized he had chosen the gown for this very reason. He knew quite well that she had become very accustomed to cotton dresses, to feeling unencumbered. Binding her into a corset, stockings, petticoats, and heavy silk only served to enhance the sensation of tightness and cause her to long for her loose clothing.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Preston asked conversationally, guiding her adroitly around the other couples. “How different clothes can make you exceedingly aware of your body?”

Lydia’s eyebrows rose. “That’s what you wanted to do? Make me aware of my body?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

Lydia couldn’t help laughing. “Preston, what makes you think that in the weeks I’ve been here, I’ve ever
not
been aware of my body? Everything I do, everything I wear makes me conscious of myself.”

“I know. That is precisely my intention.” He smiled. “One of them, anyway.”

He pulled her closer, pressing their lower bodies together. Although Lydia couldn’t feel it through her skirts, she knew quite well Preston was heavily erect. An entirely unexpected bolt of arousal went through her at the notion that they were in the middle of a crowded dance floor and he was pushing his erection against her.

“You do dance well, Lydia,” Preston murmured, his breath brushing against her forehead. “We’ll have to do this more often, don’t you think?”

He shook his head as another man approached to cut in, then guided Lydia into another waltz. The room began to feel stuffy from the body heat and exertion of so many people. A trickle of sweat ran down Lydia’s temple. She shivered when Preston’s tongue flicked out to capture the salty drop.

He placed his hand flat on her back, tugging her firmly against him as he bent his head to kiss her. His breath was sweet with champagne, his mouth hot as he urged her lips apart. As his tongue pushed deep into her damp cavern, his fingers went to the neckline of her dress.

Lydia’s gasp of shock was lost in the depths of his mouth as he pulled the material down to expose her breast. A rush of embarrassment went through her.

Preston murmured something in his throat as he manipulated her nipple to hardness, twisting it between his fingers. Lydia’s lower body tightened with arousal as sensations swam through her blood to her loins. Preston pulled down the material farther, revealing her other breast.

Lydia closed her eyes, fighting the urge to protest, fighting her growing arousal. Preston cupped the naked mounds in his hands, kissing her deeply once again.

Before Lydia could assimilate exactly what he was doing, he lifted his head, turned, and walked away from her.

Lydia stared after him in shock for a moment before realizing she was standing in the middle of the dance floor, fully clothed with her breasts indecently revealed.

With a shudder, she yanked the material back up to cover herself, but not before she saw Wallace staring at her with lust-filled eyes. Reddening, Lydia hurried off the dance floor and outside to the gardens. The fresh air brushed against her hot skin, cooling her by degrees.

Lydia sat on a wrought-iron bench and took several deep breaths. She should have known Preston would not hesitate to display his authority over her, even amidst a crowded dance floor.

She pressed her hands against her cheeks as she calmed down. The best thing to do for the remainder of the evening would be to avoid Preston as much as possible. That shouldn’t be difficult to do considering the number of people milling about.

Lydia lifted her gaze to the strings of Chinese lanterns. The thin paper burned with a multitude of shapes and colors, shedding light onto the couples meandering through the flagstone paths. Lydia was pleased to see several people pausing to admire the picturesque flower beds, which she had taken great care in arranging and planting.

A woman wearing a 1920s flapper costume paused next to another woman dressed as a Spanish queen. The flapper whispered something in the queen’s ear, causing them both to laugh. Then, to Lydia’s surprise, the queen turned and cupped the other woman’s face in her hands. Their lips met in a kiss that was both gentle and passionate, colorful light filtering over their pale skin.

Lydia swallowed hard as her excitement sparked to life again. She hadn’t kissed a woman since her experience with Cassie years and years ago. The sight of the two women evoked a myriad of memories that reminded Lydia how lovely it had been to touch the softness of a female.

She broke her gaze from the women and went back into the house, scanning the room for Gabriel. The strangeness of the costumed guests, the tightness and weight of her costume, the disquiet of Preston’s display, the exertion of dancing, even the wine flowing in her blood—all were beginning to make Lydia feel off balance. She wanted to compose herself in Gabriel’s quiet presence, but she was unable to locate him.

She paused in the dining room, where silver platters and dishes of food had been laid out. A man and woman were whispering to each other at one end of the room before he began plucking bits of food from his plate and feeding them to her with his fingers.

The woman made an erotic display of eating, her tongue swirling around her companion’s fingers as she sucked them into her mouth. The man watched her hotly and before long, their lips were locked together. He began pulling up her hoop skirt, his damp fingers seeking out the crevice between her legs. As if returning the favor, she started massaging the bulge in his trousers.

Lydia watched them in shock, wondering how far they intended to take their evident attraction. They appeared oblivious to the other people in the room. For that matter, the other guests took little, if any, notice of the heated couple.

As she continued through the rooms, Lydia realized that a distinctly libidinous atmosphere was beginning to pervade the party. The guests were shedding the more excessive accoutrements of their costumes, revealing provocative expanses of skin. Several other men and women were engaging in blatant kissing and groping, and the women weren’t the slightest bit concerned about having their naked breasts stroked in full view of everyone else.

“There you are, darling.”

Lydia turned to find Wallace beside her. His mask was askew, his collar open, and he had taken off his coat to reveal the swell of his belly. Lydia stepped away, disliking the predatory look in his eyes.

“I’ve been looking for you all evening.” Wallace moved in front of her, backing her up against a wall.

“I’m sorry. I have to leave.” Lydia put up her hands to prevent him from coming any closer, but he moved with surprising quickness to grasp her wrists.

“Come, dear. You haven’t been very friendly, have you?”

“I don’t want to be friendly,” Lydia said tightly, straining to pull herself from his grip. “Let go of me.”

His belly pushed her hard against the wall as his mouth descended on hers. Lydia froze with shock and revulsion when his tongue pushed into her mouth, forcing her to taste the vinegar flavor of his breath. She managed to yank one of her hands from him, bringing it up hard against his face.