The rap on the door would have angered him had it come five minutes earlier, before he’d put to canvas what his eyes had beheld and his fingers had caressed. If he cupped his hands just so until they threw shade over the lines, he could almost feel her face nestled within his palms and experience the softness of her skin, cared for no doubt with expensive creams or lotions, protected from the sun with an assortment of bonnets. A woman named Selena was one who should be spoiled.

The rap came again.

“Enter.” When the door opened, he didn’t turn his attention away from the etching because he could tell by the shift in the air that his brother Beast had walked in. For one so tall and broad, he was incredibly graceful, and it was as though space, the atmosphere, and everything around him bent to his will, accommodated his size and movements, without hesitation, the way one might quickly issue obedience to a king.

“That’s an unusual rendering,” Beast said, his voice deep but smooth, like fine whisky. “Or an odd way to etch someone. You’re missing the middle portion of her face.”

Setting his charcoal aside, Aiden crossed his arms and gave the sketch a critical appraisal. It wasn’t yet what he wanted or needed it to be. “She wore a mask.”

“One of the women who frequents here then.”

“Frequent is too generous a term. She’s been here only once.” But he was hoping for more encounters, although after she had her bedding, she might not return—unless he gave her cause to want to, unless he ensured she found the fornicating an addiction she couldn’t live without. He clapped his hands in order to turn his attention away from her and focus on his brother and the purpose of his visit. Beast seldom stopped by without a pressing reason. “Care for something to drink?” He walked over to a small table where a decanter of whisky sat at the ready.

“I wouldn’t object to two fingers.”

Aiden poured the amber liquid into the tumblers and passed one off to his brother. “So what brings you here?”

“Haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“I’ve been busy. I don’t know how Mick does it with all the irons he has in the fire.” The first of their group brought to Ettie Trewlove, Mick was considered the eldest. He was tearing down decrepit parts of London and building them anew, with so many projects going it was impossible to keep track—but his brother had become a wealthy man in the process, gaining the recognition and reputation he’d always longed for.

“He thrives on keeping busy and has an unquenchable need to succeed.”

“I’d say that describes all of us.”

Beast gave a nod to that, sipped his whisky. “Even Fancy.”