Page 33 of The Earl’s Forbidden Temptation

“Miss Red,” he said softly. “At last, the evening offers me something worth anticipating.”

“My lord,” she returned, though her composure wavered just enough to betray her. Darcy gave him a look of mild reproof, intending to reclaim some measure of dignity, though it only deepened his amusement. “I am certain Aphrodite contains ladies far better suited to your diversions.”

“You do yourself a disservice,” he murmured. “Women who blush at their own desires seldom arrest my attention. You are proving a most compelling exception.”

Her eyes widened, and a startled laugh escaped her. “You flatter and insult in the same breath. A woman would be wise to exercise exceptional caution in your presence.”

His mouth curved faintly. “Allow me to escort you before that caution persuades you to flee.” He inclined his head toward the corridor ahead.

Darcy hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “I have not yet decided whether that would be prudent, but you may.”

They fell into step together, far too close. She was acutely aware of the quiet strength of his presence, the faint scent of him beneath the heavier perfumes of the pleasure palace, the steady rhythm of his stride beside her own. Lord Raine’s presence sharpened Darcy’s senses and attuned them to every small detail she ought not to notice.

He glanced at her. “Who do you intend to paint this evening?”

Darcy kept her gaze forward. “Rebecca has informed me that I am to paint Lady Lily in the act of self-pleasure.”

The words still felt strange upon her tongue, however calmly she had spoken them.

After a brief pause, he said slowly, “You do not know what that is, do you?”

Darcy scoffed softly, lifting her chin. She offered no reply, unwilling to confess ignorance so readily. They walked several steps in silence. Then, against her better judgment, she glanced up at him. “I do not,” she admitted quietly.

“I could explain it, should you wish to understand before you begin.”

“No,” she said quickly.

Anything he said of pleasure seemed likely to work upon her senses like a dangerous enchantment, one she did not trust herself to withstand. Yet a quieter, deeper part of her longed to understand it from his perspective, knowing his explanation might shape what she sought to capture upon the canvas.

They reached the chamber. Lady Lily had not yet arrived. Darcy crossed to her easel, grateful for the small distance it placed between her and the earl, and seated herself upon the stool. Her fingers moved over her materials, less from necessity than from a need to occupy herself.

“My lord,” Darcy said after a moment, curiosity overcoming hesitation, “explain it to me.”

He did not answer at once. Instead, he regarded her in silence, his expression turning contemplative.

“There are times,” he said at last, “when one finds oneself alone and, in that solitude, a certain restlessness arises, not merely in the body, but in the mind: a heightened awareness, a wanting that lingers and seeks expression.”

Darcy listened, her attention fixed upon him.

“When such a feeling persists,” he continued, “one may seek to quiet it and discover some measure of ease without involving another.”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “Because they must?”

“Because they are constrained,” he said, “or because they choose not to invite another into so private a need. There are moments when desire is less about another person than the body’s own demand to be understood and answered.”

“In what way are they constrained?”

“Society dictates what is permissible and what is not. Self-pleasure is precisely as it sounds: the act of bestowing pleasure upon oneself without engaging another.”

“Women truly do this?”

“Yes.” His gaze did not waver. “A woman is taught that taking a lover outside marriage is a grave failing, a stain upon her character. A man may indulge in the same liberties, be dismissed as a libertine, and remain welcome everywhere.” His mouth curved faintly, though there was little humor in it.

Darcy scoffed, though the sound lacked its earlier certainty. “Such rules encourage restraint and preserve propriety. They also prevent the unfortunate consequences that may arise from indulgence,” she added, lifting her chin faintly.

“The world judges regardless,” he said evenly. “No child should be condemned for circumstances over which they had no command. The notion that one may be born on the wrong side of a blanket and thereby be dishonored is ludicrous. I hope to see the day such nonsense loses its hold.”

Darcy stilled. A sharp, unwelcome awareness rose within her of the quiet burden her sisters carried without fully understanding its source, and of the day that understanding would come and wound them deeply. She looked at him. He did not think of his sisters as dishonorable or soiled. Warmth stirred, unexpected and unwelcome, within her chest. “I see.”