“What about her?” Kellan extended a long finger, unwinding it from around his champagne flute to point out a passing redhead who impressed upon the men sat around him only passing derisive snorts. She noticed too, and they all studiously averted their gazes, Augustus leaning forward to stub out his cigarette and retrieve his glass of whisky. Kellan passed an exasperated look in his friend’s direction and shook his head, bringing his own cigarette to his mouth and making a mental note to follow up on that particular redhead later on in the evening. He’d never been particularly fond of his wife and such functions were great diversions from the grim realities of pure-blooded marriage.
Together with Edmund Farce who had hosted the polo game, Augustus found himself in the midst of Monaco in one of the many casinos of Monte Carlo: the playground of the rich and famous. The men sat around, having gambled away money they didn’t have after a morning of champagne on the beach and wonderful, bikini clad women, certainly constituted as rich and famous and they held within them all of the corruption that came with it. They’d abandoned their wives and come with their girlfriends and were content to drink themselves into a stupor in between their squander of gold. They’d never go a minute without pleasurable company, either.
Kellan was part of a cadet branch of some nonsense family that had recently come into money. He’d come with his brother Lux and then with William and Geoffrey, whose lineage Augustus couldn’t be bothered to recall, they made a group that would probably sooner get arrested than go home at the rate they were going. It was escape more than anything else and for a while they could play at being teenagers or twenty-somethings again and all would be jealous because just as always it would be Augustus taking the women back to his suite. He wasn’t as interested in that as he usually was, however. Much to his dismay he was ultimately still on business which was what he’d come for before meeting up with his friends. He was, technically, at work.
Pierre. He’d come to see Pierre. Why his father insisted on striking deals with him still after all these years Augustus would never know but for some reason the lecherous beast of a man had chosen Monaco. Augustus didn’t mind – it was one of his favourite places in the world – but seeing him did put a damper on an otherwise fairly interesting holiday. As it was, though, it was a sobering reminder that he couldn’t find the next woman who strode by and whom he liked and tumble into bed with her for the rest of the day. For this part of the trip he’d had his fun and today it was all about deals and what the insufferable French brat could offer them this time.
Glancing at his watch, Augustus knew it was time to find out, too. He got up from his chair, muttering his goodbyes, and wandered away from the table, striding confidently through the breakfast rooms and out into the courtyard where the sun was shining down warmly over his skin, as though winter had long died and it was summer already. He would have continued on, too, had he not spotted someone he hadn’t thought he’d see again. He dropped his hand into his trouser pocket and felt a smirk take hold of his lips.
“My, my Elizabeth,” Augustus called, turning to approach the woman. “Anyone would think you were following me.”
by Augustus Rookwood Sat Feb 07, 2015 11:48 pm
