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    Summary

    Lord Crowley is forced to host his cousin’s spoiled intended for the Season at his estate.

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    All sadistic mirth melted from Crowley’s face in an instant. The vision standing before him was as near to perfection as ever he’d conceived. Decked all in satin shades of blue, the wispy-haired blond was a Fragonard decadent come to life. Crowley couldn’t help but replace Mr. Fell in a well-known painting, swinging hedonistically to the rapture of his lover beneath.

    Mr. Fell’s gaze never settled on his host but went to studious reflection of the stately home beyond.

    “Hm,” he said at last. “It’s not nearly as large as Gabriel made out. How many apartments do you keep?”

    Crowley blinked a few times before processing the question. “One and twenty,” he answered, suddenly needing to impress the man. “Erm…a hundred rooms in all, actually.”

    “Oh,” Mr. Fell intoned, sounding bored. “And the acreage?” He tilted his head back to survey the grounds.

    Crowley felt a twinge of vexation that he had yet to be acknowledged formally. “Fifty,” he supplied.

    Mr. Fell swiveled back to regard the lord for the first time. “So much smaller than expected. Gabriel tends to aggrandize, no?”

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    30,205
    Chapters:
    13/13
    Comments:
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    Kudos:
    266
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