by Sahara Kelly
“All well and good, and nice observation, by the way.” Delaney Deverell raised his glass and toasted his friend. “But that will not distract me from beginning my inquisition. Or alter my opinion that you’re a bastard for not coming to Gordonstone Hollow with me at Christmas.”
“Ah yes. How is Lucius? Wait. I don’t care about him. Tell me of the new Lady Gordon.”
“Julia is…amazing.” Dev’s face creased into smiles and he spent the next twenty minutes praising Sir Lucius Gordon’s bride, mis-match though it had been.
“Well.” Charles sat back, stunned. “She certainly made a convert out of you.”
“Yes. Yes she did.” He continued to grin. “I cannot wait to see their offspring. She’s due in March or so, I believe.” He looked at Charles. “And this time, old lad, there will be no shirking. We will be honorary uncles or something to this babe. You will be there.”
“Is that why you’re here? In Lyndhurst?”
Dev shook his head. “Not really. I went from Gordonstone down to Southampton. Chap I know is thinking of selling his boat and I was thinking of buying one.”
“Good God. Whatever for?”
Dev shrugged. “A whim. A desire to rule the ocean waves?”
“And?”
“Those waves don’t want to be ruled. Not by me, anyway. Of course it wasn’t the best weather, but let’s just say that I discovered an affinity for dry land. Plus everything smelled rather strongly of fish.”
“So you were heading…”
“Thought I’d go over to The Chase and spend a bit of time with my cousin Agatha, but then I realized that I wasn’t that far from Fontaine House. I was a bit worried when you didn’t appear at Christmas, so I thought it was time I found out what happened and perhaps beat you severely for your transgression.”
Since Dev was of a height with Charles, but considerably leaner, Charles just chuckled. “You’re welcome to try.”
“Perhaps later. This chair is too comfortable and this brandy too good. So that’s my story. Now, if you please, I’d like yours.”
Charles sipped and savored. Then he looked at his friend. “You’re never going to believe this…”
Chapter Ten
Hannah had always prided herself on her powers of persuasion, and this evening was no exception. She had managed to talk Maisie into “admitting” her into the sisterhood of working women that populated the Mayflower.
Not to put too fine a point on it, Hannah was going to learn a few things about men, pleasuring them, and making a living out of it.
She wasn’t planning on pursuing a new career, of course, but she was curious about the girls themselves, and also looking at their activities from a new perspective.
Thanks to Charles and his clever mouth and hands. She still shivered inside when she remembered his touch, and was well aware there must be a whole lot more that she had yet to feel.
Hence her determination to begin her education on sex and the mysteries thereof.
“Yer sure, then?” Maisie paused in the corridor and looked at Hannah.
“Of course I’m sure. I told you about my fiancé. I want to make him happy. I don’t know how, but you all do.”
“All right then.” She beckoned. “Keep quiet now.” With a little push, part of the paneling in the hall moved aside. It was almost like the door to Hannah’s bedroom at the Sow’s Ear, but this time it opened onto a tiny passageway.
Following Maisie into the gloom, she almost ran into her as the girl slowed and then stopped.
“Sssh.” She held her fingers to her lips and reached for the wall. There was a soft sound and suddenly two beams of light appeared, shining through the holes that Maisie had exposed in the wall beside them.
“Look, but don’t make a sound.” It was barely a whisper, but Hannah understood.
She leaned forward and put her eyes to the holes.
And it was a good thing she’d listened to Maisie, because otherwise she would have gasped aloud.
A man was inside, naked, lying on the bed with his legs dangling over the side. He looked in pretty good shape, what Hannah could see of him.
But it was the woman who made her gasp.
She had long dark hair, and it fell almost to her naked bottom. She knelt between the man’s legs and Hannah could clearly see her hand stroking that part of his anatomy. She was briskly setting up a rhythm, and encouraging him as she did so.
“Let’s get you ‘ard, Lemmy. Yer likes it when I gets yer hard, like, doncha?”
“Mmm. Gonna fuck yer, girl. Fuck yer good.”
“Yer always do.”
Hannah wondered if that was sincere or if the woman was just doing her job on Lemmy, the same as she would any customer.
No matter what the intentions, Lemmy was starting to groan and fidget. The woman tossed her hair to one side and leaned in, putting her mouth on his male part and sucking noisily.
Hannah blinked and stared. When the woman’s head started to move up and down, she understood what was happening. It wasn’t anything she’d imagined, but she could see how it would give the man pleasure. And Lemmy was certainly enjoying every minute of it.
The slurping continued for a minute or two, then the woman let go and moved upward. “Time to spend, now, Lemmy. I’m gonna get some too. All right?”
“C’mon then, Bess. Ride me cock hard now. An’ gimme yer titties while yer at it.”
Bess clambered onto the bed and straddled Lemmy, tilting forward, thrusting her breasts into his hands. Then she rose up, wriggled a little bit and lowered herself down, right onto the spot where his cock had been stiffly pointing at the ceiling.
Hannah remembered to breathe. It seemed she’d forgotten to, at some point during this extraordinary peep show. So that’s what it was all about.
She stared, scarcely daring to blink, as Bess began to “ride” her customer. It wasn’t so much a bounce as a rolling post to the trot. At least that was the best way she could come up with to describe what she saw.
A nudge to her arm recalled her from the scene of sensual abandonment inside the room, and with a pang of regret she nodded and closed the little peephole.
“Oh my goodness.”
“Sssh.” Maisie hushed her again. “There ain’t many in tonight but yer wanna see one more?”
Hannah nodded enthusiastically.
A finger crooked and she followed Maisie almost to the end of the little passage.
“Dead quiet, yer hear?”
Dumbly, Hannah nodded.
Once again the eyeholes were revealed and Maisie stepped back, allowing Hannah to peer into the room.
This one was luxurious, with rich velvet hangings either side of the head of the huge bed, and upholstered furniture that might easily have graced the chambers of an Earl at some point.
The woman who apparently “worked” in this room, was equally as elegant. Tall and dark, she wore little in the way of clothing, but what she did wear was—well, it was quite striking.
Hannah stared at her back, since she was turned away from the peephole, and saw the black silk corset, laced tightly to a slender waist. It was very low and she could only imagine what the front might look like.
Beneath there was nothing. No petticoat, no skirt, no pantaloons even. She was naked as a jaybird except for her white stockings, gartered above her knees with black ribbon, and her black heeled boots.
Not sure what she was seeing, Hannah watched as the woman rounded the bed. The front of her garment was as shocking as the back. The corset did nothing to cover this woman’s magnificent breasts. It supported them from beneath, throwing the reddened nipples into prominence against the white skin and the black silk.
And beneath…Hannah was embarrassed to look, but did anyway. This woman had apparently shaved her nether regions. Her private parts were clearly visible as she moved, but she seemed quite unconcerned.
Reaching down, she grabbed something and stood up again, tugging the head of a man with her. He must hav
e been kneeling on the floor out of Hannah’s sight, because she hadn’t noticed his presence at all until now.
“Strip and sit, slave.”
The woman pushed him toward the bench at the end of the bed and watched as he hurriedly removed his clothes and sat.
She moved in front of him and raised one leg to rest on the bed behind him. “Pleasure me. With your mouth only. Touch me with your hands, and I’ll make you regret it.”
Hannah gulped as the man eagerly leaned forward and buried his face against that bald patch of skin. She was struck by how immobile the woman remained, as if she wasn’t receiving any pleasure at all, but merely observing to make sure he followed her rules.
He was doing so enthusiastically, as far as Hannah could tell. So enthusiastically that he forgot his orders and reached around to clutch the woman’s buttocks and pull her to his mouth.
She immediately backed away and moved her foot to his naked chest. “I warned you. On the bed. Face down. Now.”
“I-I-I’m sorry, Mistress.”
“Now.” The repeated command was harsh and firm.
The man obeyed, standing, moving to the side of the bed and leaning over it, resting his face and chest in the quilt. And exposing his backside to the Mistress. And the hidden watcher.
Hannah gasped as the woman picked up a riding crop and slashed it across those white buttocks.
The man cried out, the sound muffled in the bed linens.
“More?”
He turned his head. “Yes please, Mistress.”
She hit him again, and red marks began to appear on his skin.
Hannah shifted. This had gone from intriguingly erotic to mostly unpleasant. She found it disturbing, to say the least, and backed away. “Enough,” she whispered.
Maisie nodded and closed the peephole, then turned and retraced their steps with Hannah right behind her.
When they reached the very end and pushed the panel aside to step back into the main corridor, Maisie swore.
There were four or five women standing right there, staring as the two of them as they emerged.
“Shit,” said Maisie.
“Caught yer. Yer know the rules. Yer gotta tell every detail.” A cheerful faced girl giggled and poked Maisie with her forefinger. “And yer gotta share yer January bottle.” She turned. “C’mon girls. Maisie’s room. She’s gonna tell us all about it and give us a glass o’ wine as well.”
*~~*~~*
Assisted by a good meal and several more brandies, Charles actually managed to get a few hours’ sleep and awoke with the daylight eager to conclude his journey.
Deverell, best friend since before time began, would of course be at his side.
He had announced last night that he was damned if he’d let Charles go off on an adventure to rescue his fiancé alone. What Charles needed, of course, was a trustworthy companion at his side to hold his sword and shield as he, Charles, embraced his fair lady.
Charles had rolled his eyes and ordered more brandy.
Then the conversation turned serious and the two men began to discuss various ways of rescuing Hannah. They agreed that they would both prefer to accomplish this task without violence, although Charles wasn’t averse to giving a well-placed punch to the perpetrator. Right before he secured him and transported him to the nearest constable.
Finally they opted for the simplest solution—extract the residents from the Mayflower by means of a “fire”, which Dev would attempt to start at some place out of sight. With a bit of luck there would be lots of smoke, enough to encourage the residents to move outside, where Charles could find Hannah while Dev put out the fire.
On the way there, the two men further refined the plan.
“If Hannah has mentioned you to anyone, you’re going to be recognized, you know.”
“Why would she do that?” Charles darted a glance at his friend as they made their way toward Redbridge.
Dev sighed. “Women talk. It’s what they do. Things like fiancés are of importance, much like our talk of horses and the races. Same enthusiasm, different topic.”
“All right, I’ll accept that. But I don’t see what difference it makes…”
“Well I’d rather keep all this low-key if possible, wouldn’t you? I’m not sure you want to start your married life with stories of how your fiancée spent some time in a brothel before wedding you.”
“I’m not sure where you’re going with this, but go on. I’ll try and keep up.”
“Well you told me your Hannah is sharp and quick on the uptake. So what if, instead of you, I were the one just passing by when the women run out.”
“Hmm.” Charles considered the idea.
“I can scoop her up onto my horse and head west before anyone else is the wiser and you’re not involved at all. We can meet up by the river.”
“You know, that might just work. Provided Hannah can catch on and play along. Which I believe she will.” He grinned. “She will probably berate you for something, Dev. So be prepared.”
“Is there anything I can shout out so that she’ll know you’re involved? That’s the only thing I can’t come up with.”
Charles spent a few moments in thought—and then grinned. “Yes. I think if you baa like a sheep, she will immediately know you’re with me.”
Dev stared. “Did you say baa like a sheep?”
“Yes.”
He clicked up his horse. “I’m not even going to ask.”
Charles laughed and cantered after him.
*~~*~~*
Hannah also awoke as the sun rose, but it wasn’t to the excitement of an enjoyable day ahead.
In fact she had one hell of a headache and her mouth tasted as if she’d spent most of the night licking wallpaper. She vowed then and there that her wine-drinking days were past.
Maisie’s room had been full of working girls, listening to Hannah and Maisie relating their previous evening’s experiences. And drinking Maisie’s “January” bottle.
She learned that one of the most popular customers was a wine merchant from Southampton. He made a point of bringing a case of wine every month and insisted on giving each girl her own bottle. Since he also brought several cases for the house, and any of their needs were seen to at a greatly reduced price, the Madam had no complaints.
Hannah had not encountered Mrs. Tanner at all and hoped to keep it that way. If she was to leave today, or at least find out what was happening and why she’d been kidnapped…well that would make life easier all around. She devoutly hoped it could all occur without attracting the attention of the Madam.
She supposed it was up to Batty Benby and his cohorts and knew a moment of seething frustration that she couldn’t go outside, find him, grab his ear and make him tell her what the devil was going on.
She was hard pressed to believe that this scheme was his. He had earned his nickname at an early age and people affectionately called “Batty” weren’t given to intricate kidnap plans. At least she didn’t think so.
Of course, with her throbbing head, it was hard to think at all, so she stumbled from the bed she’d shared with Maisie and splashed some cold water on her face. God it was cold.
Maisie mumbled and pulled the covers over her face.
Tempted to crawl back under them herself, Hannah sighed and dressed in the same clothes she’d worn for what felt like years. At least they were warm, but she was uncomfortably aware that before long they’d be a little on the strong side.
A knock sounded, and Hannah glanced at Maisie. That girl could sleep like the dead.
The knock came again, and Hannah had no choice but to answer it, little though she wanted to. She did take one precaution, but hoped she wouldn’t have to use it.
Heart thumping, she tugged on the latch, pulling the solid wood inward. Outside stood a young lad, hat in hand. “Yer wanted, Miss.”
“Me? Or Maisie.”
“Not Maisie, miss. So I reckon yer.”
“Who wants me?”
�
��Dunno miss.” He fidgeted. “Can yer come now, please?”
She sighed. Not a lot of options presented themselves, and since cracking the ewer over the lad’s head wouldn’t serve anything, she put the china jug back on the bureau and went out, closing the door behind her.
He led her down the corridor and then turned in a different direction, taking her down into what had to be the more public part of the house. There were bowls of evergreens, neatly swept carpets and a fire burning low in the large fireplace.
Sofas and large chairs were scattered around the room, and the smoke from the fire mingled with the scent of cigars and perfume.
The curtains were partially drawn against the cold, so Hannah had no idea if they were on the front or the back of the house. Or indeed where she was, relative to anything. It was disorienting, to say the least.
The lad walked on and finally stopped in front of a door. “In ‘ere, if you please.”
She looked at the door and then at him. “In here?”
“Yes’m.” He knocked on the door and then spun on his heel, leaving her standing there alone.
“Enter.”
It was a man’s voice. A familiar man’s voice. Hannah’s skin chilled as she realized who awaited her.
She opened the door—and there he was.
“Hello, Father.”
Chapter Eleven
He looked surprisingly at home in the large chair behind a desk littered with bits of paper, newspapers and money. Piles of coins were stacked to one side and in front of them bundles of notes.
Hannah stood silent and looked at him as parts of a puzzle fell into place. She should have expected something like this. It explained a number of odd incidents—travels that took place without discussion, and resulted in an upswing in the family’s fortunes.
Her father had an interest in this brothel, and consequent upon that thought came another—there were probably more.
