Love is an Archer

1. Cupid

"I'm not sure about this, Amelia. I don't think we're supposed to be in a place such as...this." Ruby's free arm swept as widely as it could with her favourite pink shawl binding her body at the elbows. She looked less than impressed at being in their current locale, the reluctant laugh as they sprung from the carriage not actually intended to spur her friend on, rather to amuse her.

"Shh!" Amelia urged, playfully elbowing Ruby to giggles from both girls. The sheer absurdity of their situation was a tonic to the afternoon.

It was, however, quite true: such a disreputable place was wholly inappropriate for two daughters from upstanding families. Not only did the young women not have a place in the heavily perfumed den in which they had found themselves, they also stood out with great peculiarity.

All about them, fine silks had been draped luxuriously from the walls, while the corners were overflowing with plush cushions, stacked high and thick for the comfort of the gentlemen (if they could be called that) who lounged upon them, shirts open and bare chests on show. Barely dressed women fed the clientele the juiciest grapes Amelia had ever seen in such a lascivious manner that she feared they had interrupted a private moment or stumbled onto some mythic scene part-way through being painted, ready to be gawped at my academics. As they burst between the men's teeth, the grapes released a sticky spurt of juice which splattered upon their chests. The men writhed in ecstasy and echoed the laughter of the sirens who fed them, and everyone present was caught in the same lustful trance. And then there was Lady Amelia Cressley-Archer, accompanied by her lifelong companion in arms, Lady Ruby Battenhouse.

They were both sporting their latest summer dresses, all soft pastel colours and cut short at the arms, with laced edges that revealed a modest glimpse of their collar bones and nothing more. On the latter point, Ruby's mother had certainly approved of the dresses, exclaiming that they put a young lady's heart on display – perfect indeed for the start of the season, when they needed to catch the eye of a gentleman. But the skin on show was not enough to allow the two friends to blend in, and they looked positively overdressed for the occasion. Lady Amelia was quietly relieved; it would not be a gentleman's eye they caught in such a locale.

She was also transfixed on the comings and goings of the half-naked women and their still-writhing, moaning clientele (they were all wholly unaware of Amelia and Ruby's presence). Once, during a long and bleak winter, she had 'borrowed' one of her brother's books and read of Ancient Greeks and their lustful practices – it had certainly warmed her blood and flushed her face, but she had no idea that her eyes would ever linger on the page come to life. It was thrilling to behold.

Ruby, on the other hand, had mistaken what was happening among the haze – until, that is, the veil of sweet incense that greeted them had lifted (or perhaps their eyes had simply become more accustomed to the scarlet lighting and the swirling smoke). She found herself blushing involuntarily, eyes bouncing from one spot to another, as any young lady is wont to do in the company of such salacious – and potentially scandalous – behaviour.

The greater scandal, however, would unfold should anybody discover that daughters from the Cressley-Archer and Battenhouse families had disembarked from their carriage while returning from lunch so that they might stumble not into just any perfumed den, but the famed hideout of London's greatest romantic gossip themself – all to settle a wager placed around the dining table at La Roux.

Indeed, had Allison Courtley not made such an uncouth joke about Amelia's failure to secure a match over two consecutive seasons, the friends might not have found themselves excitedly clinging to one another, gasping and laughing in shock as they watched lovers make worship of each other's bodies in the nondescript property on Belden Close.