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Prologue

Luke Bentley, Earl of Sussex, strolled up to the nondescript brick front building, and stopped to glance at its exterior He did this nearly every ti so outwardly plain could hold such delights within The only indication of what this building held was the eold This same mark was pinned to the lapel of his waistcoat

A sloicked grin spread across his lips He loved that this building could appear so nondescript but be full of decadent sin Such was true for feht bloohts at which her perfectly groomed exterior barely hinted

That hy he rarely turned away a woman Well, one of the reasons, anyway He had other less noble ressed

Before hiland…The Wicked Earls’ Club It had once been The Earls’ Guild or some such foppery, but over the years it had turned into a haven for men like him It allowed men of means and title to relax with a drink and so eyes of society

The members never spoke of the club or its existence outside of these walls in order to keep the utmost secrecy In this way, they could continue with their delicious debauchery for as long as they chose Luke planned on gracing its halls forever

There were a few rules, not written of course, but understood Once a man married, for example, his invitation to the club was rescinded At such a tientleh his hair But matrimony was an unfortunate state he planned never to find himself in It was also the reason for his visit

The building was located at 276 Bedford Place, on the outskirts of respectable London It allowed forseen in an unseehts of London’s less upstanding variety

He inserted his key into the lock and turned it with a resounding click Each ht or day He entered the darkened foyer and closed the door, locking it behind him

He knew this entrance like his own bedroom, and moved easily down the hall, despite the darkness

As he turned the corner, a rooantly decorated, not in the way a woht prefer, but perfect for a man It was Luke’s second home Rich leather chairs abounded, as did decanters of the finest scotch, brandy, and whiskey, the best a man could hope to drink Several waiters and a rant any whim he should seek

Today he wisheddilemma he had with two of his closest coton

He found them seated in a quiet corner, perfect for private conversation Though it was not yet ten in the , he stopped to pour himself a tall snifter of scotch He’d already been to his boxing club thisand could use the fortification for what he was about to say

Norht activitiestiht, so he had risen early and left the house as soon as possible

While he loved his parents, their visits were often fraught with tension, this one being the most difficult yet The Marquess of Winston was a man who demanded his oay

“So what brings you here at such an early hour?” Lord Gracon took a sip of tea, eyeing him over the rim

“You know rimaced at the words

“Are they staying at Clearwater?” Lord Harrington asked