Page 4 of The Duke of Pain

When he had first started out on his sexual journey, the prostitutes at one of the more famous brothels had said, “Lord, he be cravin’ more!”

And that is why he was given the name: Lord Craven.

Still, the moniker grated.

It was used at various clubs across London, and there was no use trying to change it now.

The window slid shut, and the door opened. The rather brutish doorman stepped aside, and Gideon was immediately greeted by Pan, the host.

Rumors abounded that Pan was a eunuch. He was well known in these debauched circles, for he had been the manager and host at The Garrison Gate before recently opening his own house of vice.

“My Lord Craven, Ready for your tour?”

Pan was well aware that Gideon was the Duke of Watford. For privacy purposes, it would not be used. Besides, having everyone “Your Grace”-ing him annoyed him to the extreme.

“Yes, I am ready. No names or titles, not even the coded one, if you please.”

“As you wish. Shall we begin?”

Pan gave him an admiring gaze, taking in his form and formal evening dress. Gideon removed his kid-leather gloves, then his hat. He passed his hat and gloves along with the walking stick to Pan. He decided to keep his cloak on.

Pan momentarily ducked into the coatroom, then rejoined him. The host then led him into a large room across the way. The interior was set up as a photographer studio, with the walls adorned with framed prints showing the attractions available within the brothel. It allowed the customer to compare the goods and services offered before choosing.

“Along this wall is the lovely ladies available for various assignations,” Pan related. “Next to that are the few men I have available. All my employees are clean; treated by a physician, and the rule of the house is sheaths are to be used for whatever act. They are included in the price and are obtainable in abundance throughout the brothel.”

Gideon nodded his approval. Using protection was a strict and non-negotiable rule among The Rakes of St. Regent’s Park. He’d witnessed the effects on others of various diseases and poxes from indiscriminate sex. He was never without protection.

Rumors abounded that the Earl of Oakby recently succumbed to syphilis. Not an outcome Gideon wished for himself.

The debaucheries were all part of the quest, reaching for the next thrill, and he was willing to try anything in order to have a reaction, a stutter of emotion, a hitch in his heartbeat.

Alas, he’d been stymied for years.

He glanced at the photos. The women were generally attractive and posing in provocative undergarments. All different sizes, ages, and races. Quite the varied selection indeed.

“We also offer photographic services for any and all your erotic needs. By appointment, of course.”

Although fascinated by photography, this type of thrill was not to Gideon’s taste, but he would inform Viscount Shinwell, a new prospect member of the group.

“I believe I will start with the third floor,” Gideon answered. He had been given a layout and general description of the club in advance of his visit.

“A good choice. Our voyeur area is quite popular. Please, follow me.”

Pan led him through the narrow, darkened halls. The hiss of gas from the wall sconces intermingled with groans of ecstasy emitting from the many closed doors.

From what he’d been told, the third floor consisted of small rooms with secret alcoves. The voyeur floor also gave any potential customers a clear idea of what was offered at the club. Each door leading into a private niche had a sign. The red side indicated the alcove was occupied, and the blue side meant it was vacant. The first door showed blue. Gideon had received a full accounting of the services and rules of the club before his appointment.

“Do call on me when you are ready to proceed.” Pan bowed elegantly and disappeared into the shadows.

Gideon opened the door and slipped in. A small shelf held numerous pieces of flannel and a basket underneath. A porcelain bowl of water sat nearby. Gideon dipped his fingers in, finding it pleasantly warm. He would give The Velvet Vine and Tackle their due; the den of sin was well equipped, clean, and discreet.

Various peepholes were drilled into the wall next to the shelf at varying heights. Curious, Gideon peered through one of the highest holes. Two men sat on a padded bench. They were young, well built, and quite beautiful.

Gideon watched as the two naked men roved their hands over each other. Exploring muscled biceps and tightly packed pectorals, the two young men moaned with desire. This particular activity did not appeal to him personally. But to each his own. Once the men started to kiss, he exited and slipped into the adjacent vacant recess.

He glanced through the peephole and was shocked to see the Duke of Glenholme and his pretty auburn-haired wife. Gideon shook his head in disbelief.

Now he had seen everything.