His second inclined his head, then left.
To Envy’s knowledge, humans in this realm didn’t necessarily believe in vampires but could certainly sense they were prey when near one.
Fear heightened mortal senses, bringing them closer to the animal world before they reasoned their natural survival instincts away as silly.
Whether due to hubris or ego, man was the only creature who often ignored what no other prey did: trust your instincts or suffer the consequences.
“Yes?” Envy asked, drawing Goodfellow’s attention away from the vampire as he exited.
“Invitations have all been sent, my lord. No noble family in Waverly Green will want to miss it. Cook has been—”
“Did you send one to Miss Antonius?”
“The artist?” Goodfellow asked.
Envy offered a slight nod.
“Not yet, my lord. But I suppose she’s become a society darling despite her rather tragic past, so I’ll add her to the list. As I was saying, Cook has—”
“Explain.”
“Er, about Cook or…” Goodfellow trailed off at Envy’s hard look. “Oh, Miss Antonius. Her mother left right before she debuted, poor thing. Made things proper difficult for the young miss with all those nasty rumors. No mamma wanted their son to court her. She’s as good as a spinster now, though the ton love her gallery, which has kept her current, I suppose.”
Envy considered that a moment. Camilla’s mother was gone, she had no marriage prospects… so why had she so thoroughly dismissed him? Envy had made it clear he was titled, and he was obviously handsome. Camilla should have at least attempted to flirt. Unless she’d been waiting for him to do so…
Why was Lust’s gods-damned scheme always the correct path to take? Maybe Envy should attempt to seduce her next. It was worth trying.
Goodfellow took Envy’s quiet pondering as an invitation to continue his report.
“Cook has been given the market requirements, and I’ve sent the footman out to secure the masks you requested. The gardener has also been instructed on the floral arrangements. Ballroom renovations are underway and should conclude at least two days prior, allowing time for any adjustments Your Lordship might desire.”
“What about the blackberries and brown sugar?”
“Taken care of, my lord. Along with the finest bourbon in Waverly Green.”
Envy nodded. “Progress on the gallery in the north wing?”
“The portraits have all been unveiled and the sculptures are being cleaned now.”
“I trust the hedge maze is also under control.”
“Of course. The groundskeeper has the images you rendered and is tending to it.”
A bit of the tension Envy had been feeling since Camilla’s refusal released. At least something was going his way tonight.
Goodfellow cleared his throat, and Envy fought a sigh.
“Was there something else?”
With a bit more theatrics than was entirely needed, Goodfellow produced an envelope. Crisp, decent ivory stock. Bland and uninspired.
“An invitation has arrived, my lord. From Gretna House.”
Envy stared blankly at the butler.
“Pardon me, my lord. Gretna House is Lord Philip Vexley’s home. He’s a favorite of society, though a bit notorious, if I may speak freely.”
For all his pomp, Goodfellow was also a horrible gossip, only too happy to help Envy learn the ins and outs of Waverly Green.
“What makes him notorious?” Envy sipped at his whiskey, curious.
Goodfellow’s ruddy face flushed a brighter crimson, signaling that licentiousness must be involved.
“It’s rumored he hosts… er, debauched parties, for a select circle of friends, my lord.”
Envy schooled his features. How predictable, and so very human, he thought.
He might as well have some fun and watch Goodfellow flounder.
“Do guests engage in lewd behavior?”
Goodfellow drew in a sharp breath, then nodded. His eyes sparkled with the need to share this delightful scandal.
“And?” Envy encouraged.
“Oh, well, I’ve heard that some guests sneak off to the gardens to”—he glanced around as if to make sure no one else had snuck up on them—“kiss.”
“Kiss.” Envy mentally counted until the urge to stab himself—repeatedly—passed. “Does anyone actually witness this… lewd behavior?”
“Well, I imagine so. Though I haven’t heard any specifics.”
Envy must not have hidden his annoyance as well as he’d thought; Goodfellow quickly continued.
“That’s not saying anything of the art he’s collected. Most of it isn’t fit for polite company. Not that Lord Vexley concerns himself with that. He’s rumored to have an entire private collection of virile-member-shaped implements. He keeps those hidden, else the ladies would faint at dinner. Society looks the other way with Vexley up until a point.”
“That point being virile-member-shaped art,” Envy deadpanned.
“Indeed, my lord. This one is unsubstantiated, but there’s another rumor, that he hosts… demonstrations… once the gentlewomen retire after dinner.”
Goodfellow would have an embolism if he ever visited House Lust.
Demons playing with virile-member-shaped implements was the daily standard there.
However, at the mention of art, Envy’s interest was finally piqued.
“This Vexley is an avid art collector, is he?” Envy asked. Goodfellow nodded. “Is his collection as large as the one here?”
Goodfellow opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, reconsidering.
“I personally haven’t seen it, my lord, so I can’t speak with any authority on that. But I have heard he visits Silverthorne Lane. And you know what they say about the dark market.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Well, my lord, almost everyone in the Green believes the dealers aren’t exactly… human.”
Envy’s brows rose a fraction. He hadn’t heard this. But his spies would certainly hear from him about missing this detail.
“And what, pray tell, are they instead?”
“They say the dealers there are exiled Fae. Mind you, most who enter are also deep in their cups. Personally, I don’t believe in such fairy tales.”
Envy stilled. This was very interesting news indeed.
“You’re certain this notorious lord visits these… Fae?”
“Aye. His footman told me himself, my lord. Once per week, like clockwork.”
“Accept his invitation,” Envy said, dismissing the butler with a crisp nod. Maybe he’d found another player after all.
If Goodfellow disapproved of his master’s decision, he wisely didn’t let it show.
Envy wanted to get a feel for this rake who dealt with Fae, see if his theory was correct.
Goodfellow left to do Envy’s bidding.
If there was one truth that ought to be universally accepted, it was this: when sin was involved, no gentleman in this realm or any other could ever hope to compete with a demon.
Most especially a Prince of Hell.
FIVE
CAMILLA FUSSED WITH her skirts as the carriage rattled over the cobbled street and, next to her, Lord Edwards prattled on about a rooster named Peter.
Apparently, Edwards was having newfound trouble with his cock.