Heskiss bowed to them both. “Yes, Lord Henry. He is waiting in your bedchamber, but said he can go to a different room if that would make Miss Sutton more comfortable.”
“I am sure Miss Sutton will be fine, Heskiss, thank you.”
Hal steered her through the foyer on their way to the stairs. Mel tried not to gawk at the elegant surroundings, but had a feeling she was not as successful in her nonchalance as she would’ve liked. “Do you really think it is wise to go to your rooms? It is most improper,” she said.
“This entire business is most improper, Mel, which is one of the reasons I’m enjoying myself quite so much. But Rigg will prove himself an admirable chaperone, I assure you.”
He swept her past bedchambers in what she assumed was the family wing. While her uncle’s house was well-appointed and certainly grander than any home she’d seen in Philadelphia, Lynwood House was truly awe-inspiring.
He came to a bedchamber at the end of the hall, opened the door, then waited for her to enter. She had to admit to a case of nerves. She’d never entered a man’s bedchamber before and as she stepped across the threshold, she was amazed by the sheer masculinity of it. There was the bergamot scent that was so very Hal. The heavy wooden furniture, the dark blue of the bedspread.
The bed.
It drew her eyes, seemed to draw her very being. It was much larger than her own bed, but somehow she felt that if she were in it with Hal, she would find it much too small. He was standing at her elbow and she could feel the heat of him. How easy it would be to let him lead her to the bed, lay her down and give herself to him. She turned to see him looking at her with an almost desperate gaze.
“Hal,” she began, only to be interrupted by someone clearing his throat. She hadn’t even realized they weren’t alone. Blushing a bright red, she turned to see an impeccably dressed man in his late ‘30s, standing next to hangers holding a lad’s clothing.
Hal made the introductions. “Miss Sutton, may I please present Rigg to you. He is my brother Ned’s valet and as such is wasted in the rural hinterlands of Marston Vale. Ned, Miss Melanie Sutton.”
Rigg bowed. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss. Per Lord Henry’s instructions, I have assembled several clothing options befitting a young lad on the town.” He stepped back to show them a variety of trousers, shirts, waistcoats and jackets. “Since most of the ton would be familiar with any Kellington cousins, I took the liberty of imagining you to be a second cousin twice removed, having come to London from Northumberland, thereby minimizing the chance of anyone questioning your story. As a consequence, I am afraid your clothes are not in the first stare of fashion. It was my first foray in buying outmoded clothes for a Kellington. I must say I did not care for it a bit.”
“I appreciate your sacrifice,” said Hal. “But Miss Sutton is not a Kellington.”
It was hard to tell because Rigg had turned to ready the clothes, but Mel could have sworn the valet said “Not yet.”
“I very much appreciate your assisting us, Rigg and you’ve done an admirable job selecting the wardrobe,” said Mel. “The clothes look like you had my sizes, but that’s impossible.”
“Thank you, miss. Lord Henry proved to be most accurate in his, uh, descriptions. Speaking of which, you may wish to make use of this.” Now it was the valet’s turn to blush, as he handed her a cravat.
“But won’t the cravat come toward the end?”
Rigg sent a speaking glance to Hal.
Hal couldn’t hide his grin. “I believe, Miss Sutton, that you are to use the cravat to conceal your more prominent features, though it pains me to even think of it.”
Mel was once again red-faced, as she quietly said “Oh.”
“Miss, I have cleared a spot in Lord Henry’s closet where you may disrobe. I can ask Lady Vanessa’s maid to assist you if you’d like.”
“No, that shall not be necessary, thank you.” The fewer people who witnessed this, the better.
“Very good, miss. Now, if you’d like to pick out your clothes, I can place them in the dressing room for you.”
Vanessa quickly made her selections. Rigg had been quite thorough. While the quality was first rate, the style was more consistent with a country cousin than that of a London blade. A thought occurred to her. “How much do I owe you for this, Lord Henry?”
His brows rose at the very question, as did Rigg’s but only fleetingly. “Think of it as a contribution to your mission, Miss Sutton,” said Hal.
She didn’t like to be beholden to the man, but there was no use arguing with him at the moment. She simply took the clothes and disappeared into the closet.
* * *
It was the worst sort of torture, thought Hal. Having Mel in his bedchamber, knowing she was disrobing in the closet. Hang their trip to Madame Thurmond’s. He’d caught her expression when she’d seen the bed. He’d never met a woman more ready for a sexual awakening. And he so desperately wanted to be the man to take her there. All he had to do was get rid of Rigg. He turned to Ned’s long-time servant.
“Do not even think about it, Master Hal,” said Rigg.
“How the devil did you know what I was going to say?”
Rigg’s only response was one raised brow.
“Blast it man, can’t you tell her you forgot something in the kitchen?” asked Hal.
“No, if for no other reason than I do not forget things.”
“Then I shall send you to the kitchen.”
“Master Hal, do not make me call for Heskiss.”
Damn it! The servants of Lynwood House tended to run roughshod over the Kellingtons. Of course, it was just as well. There would be no avoiding a leg shackle if he and Melanie made love.
It was disconcerting to think how little that bothered him.
Mel emerged from the closet in breeches, jacket and waistcoat – looking nothing like a lad. Her throat was exposed and Hal wanted nothing more than to kiss it, sucking gently at her pulse.
Yes. Definitely nothing like a lad.
“If you will allow me, miss?” Rigg took a second cravat then deftly tied it around her neck. “I am afraid your neck is too delicate to support a more complicated knot, so I shall simply recreate one that I use for Lord Edward on the farm.” In a matter of minutes he’d created a simple, yet exquisite knot.
“Yes, the cravat is all very well and good,” said Hal. “But there’s no mistaking her form. She is too obviously female.”
As far as Hal was concerned, nothing could truly conceal the contours of Mel’s magnificent body. Her breasts were too full, her hips too rounded for anyone to mistake her for a lad. But Rigg’s work with a cravat had expertly concealed her neck and an oversized jacket helped cover many of her curves. A hat pulled down low and a coat to cover everything else helped her pass as well as she was ever going to pass.
When they stood back to admire Rigg’s work, Hal thanked the valet for his assistance.
“It was my pleasure, Lord Henry. But if you will permit me, I have one finishing touch.” Rigg pulled out a pair of leather gloves made for a lad. “I’m afraid Miss Sutton’s hands would not pass inspection, were they to be examined too closely.”
“Did you ever think you would have to disguise a young lady of the ton when you began your service with my brother?” asked Hal.
“My lord, I learned long ago that one should always expect the unexpected with the Kellington family. It is one of the most pleasing aspects of my employment.”
“I believe Mrs. Rigg would like to think she is the most pleasing aspect of your employment,” replied Hal. Rigg had fallen in love with a kitchen maid at Ned’s estate in Marston Vale.
“She is not an aspect of my employment, Lord Henry, but the best part of my life. I have become one of those annoying men who is enamored of the wedded state and wholeheartedly recommend it to everyone.”
“Which of my brothers told you to say that?”
“What makes you think any of your brothers told me to say anything?”
>
“Rigg?”
“All of them. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Mrs. Rigg and I are quite happy. Miss, may I be of further assistance to you?”
“No thank you, Rigg. I appreciate very much what you have done for me.”
“Very well, miss,” he bowed to both of them. “Good luck in your adventure tonight.”
“Thank you, Rigg,” said Hal. “You may go now.”
But Rigg remained, as Hal suspected he would. When Hal bought his own house, he would populate it with retainers who actually obeyed him. Knowing his cause was lost, he escorted Melanie downstairs and out to their waiting carriage.
Half an hour later they reached their destination.
“I am all kinds a fool,” muttered Hal, as he escorted a disguised Mel to the entrance of Madame Thurmond’s. The burly footman at the door looked at Mel askance, but when Hal told him the lad was with him, the servant allowed them entrance.
They walked into the downstairs parlor of Madame Thurmond’s and slowly made their way through the crowd.
* * *
Mel had often wondered what went on in establishments such as this, but she was unprepared for the sheer scale of all that was unfolding. It was a little after eleven of the clock and even though Hal said it wouldn’t be as crowded as later, the room was still filled with gentlemen of the ton. She’d been in many a crowded ballroom, but there was something about the lack of inhibitions in the men around her that gave the evening a decidedly different air. There were no quiet conversations dictated by propriety. There was no propriety. The men were drinking spirits and laughing boisterously. They were using coarse language that she’d certainly heard on the streets before, but never coming from the mouths of gentlemen – many of whom she’d conversed with at ton gatherings.
And the women… She’d assumed the women would wear revealing gowns. What she hadn’t been prepared for was the lack of gowns altogether. While some wore gowns that barely covered them, others wore only undergarments. Two women wore nothing at all as they served drinks on a silver salver.
Her shock must have been evident. For Hal leaned in to her, “This was a mistake. Let me take you home.”
“No,” she said. Even if their mission hadn’t been so important, there was something about this evening that made her want to stay. It was all so decadent and she knew she’d never get a chance to see it again. It made her want to know what else went on in these rooms. She knew no decent lady would be curious like that, and it would probably give Hal a disgust of her to know just how fascinated she was. To know just what effect this was having on her body. She was warm all over. And growing wetter by the minute. Because of the crowd, Hal was pressed up against her but, given her disguise as a boy, he had to pretend his indifference to her.
But maybe he wasn’t just pretending. Maybe he really didn’t have feelings for her in that way and their earlier encounters had only been because she was the only woman available. But there was certainly no shortage of willing women here. Why wouldn’t his thoughts be of them and not her? It was most lowering.
* * *
What had he been thinking to bring her here? Hal couldn’t believe he’d given in to this lunacy. Fortunately, there was no stage show that evening. It was licentious enough with the nude servers and the bawdy jokes going on around them. But the sight of two whores going down on a patron would have surely made Melanie faint. He was staying close to her, praying that no one would see through her disguise. He could only imagine the pandemonium that would break out if the men knew there was a lady in their midst. Especially one whose hips looked so tantalizing in those breeches. It was a good thing Rigg had been such a stalwart chaperone because he would have had her in bed moaning beneath him if he’d had the chance.
Now at Madame Thurmond’s, he had an overpowering urge to protect her. Every time one of the louts in the room bumped into her or told a ribald story in her hearing, he wanted to punch them. He could barely keep from putting his arm around her to pull her close. But she was dressed as a lad, even if it was all too obvious to him she was a woman. If it looked like he was that protective of his cousin, he was quite sure he’d be told to go to another house that specialized in such things.
Because in London there were many houses with an untold number of specialties.
As he looked around the room, seeing it through Mel’s eyes, he began to understand how tawdry it was. The cloying perfume of the girls, the stench of the men’s cigars. The cheap red tapestries and glass chandelier that needed a thorough cleaning. The girls wore lingerie that showed their breasts and arse or whichever part they thought was their best asset. The men looked them over like choosing hunting dogs, wondering which would serve their needs the best.
As he watched the women simper at the men, he began to feel ill. How terrible it must be to have to sell yourself for your very sustenance. Watching as he did, he could see the look of relief a girl had when a particularly distasteful client passed her by. Their smiles looked forced, their sensual allure a show. Had it always been this way? The girls always seemed so pleased to see him and Francis. Of course, he and Francis were usually quite foxed by the time they reached Madame Thurmond’s. Maybe this was exactly how it looked when he was sober.
He was about to escort Melanie from the premises, when he turned to look at her. He couldn’t believe what he saw. Her pupils were dilated. There was a flush of color on her face. Her lips were parted and her breathing was shallow. She was showing all the signs of arousal. He turned to see what she was looking at and was dismayed to learn that a sex show had started.
One man was lying on his back on a settee, with his pants pulled down. A girl was on top of him, naked. As she rode him, another man was brought up to the stage. He pushed the girl toward the man she was riding, exposing her bottom. He unfastened his breeches, took out his cock then pushed it into her arse, to a huge cheer from the onlookers. The girl smiled for her audience, then continued to moan as if in the throes of ecstasy. As both men pounded into her, the crowd went wild. Hal knew it was at moments like this that many a pocket was being pilfered, but no one would notice. All they had eyes for was what was on the stage.
As the two men continued to pound into the girl, the man behind her began pumping faster and faster. Suddenly he pulled out and sprayed his seed all over her arse and back. Then the man underneath her came with a groan.
There had been nights when Hal had watched shows like that with a jaded amusement. After a show the men in the audience were primed to pay whatever price Madame Thurmond deemed fair, for whichever whores she presented. It was a smart business move on her part, parading out the less popular girls while saving the prettiest for high rollers who would drop by later in the evening.
Hal’s cock was as hard as it had ever been, but not because of the show. It was a consequence of Melanie’s reaction to the spectacle she’d just witnessed. He wanted to find a clean, quiet room and satisfy her curiosity. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her in every position imaginable. If she weren’t a lady, he’d spray his seed on her to mark her as his from now until the end of time. He was territorial with her. Like an animal with his mate. He found it hard not to snarl at the men around them.
She was his.
She looked up at him with round, dazed eyes. It was everything he could do not to kiss her right there.
He was interrupted before he could do such a foolish thing, by the low, sultry voice of Madame Thurmond. “Lord Hal, welcome back. I was afraid we weren’t going to see you again, given your new aversion to vice.”
Hal reluctantly turned his attention to the madame. “Never let it be said I’m reformed.” He fought to keep from pushing Melanie behind him protectively.
“I see you’ve brought a friend, my lord,” said the madame, raking Hal’s guest with her eyes.
“Yes, a distant cousin from Northumberland. He wanted to see the sights.”
Madame Thurmond smiled lazily. “I’m sure I can come up with something for
him to look at. Will you each be taking your own room or would you like to share?”
“We’re not ready for a room,” said Hal, unable to even think of being in a bedroom in a brothel with Mel. “Just looking for now. We may go to Dill’s while the night is still young.”
“You wound me, Lord Hal, to think you would prefer a gaming hell to my establishment.” She beckoned to two girls, who sauntered over to them. “Take Lord Hal and his…cousin to the gold room.”
Sherry and Terry both headed for Hal, whom they knew to be generous with his blunt. Then Sherry pushed Terry in Mel’s direction. Terry, who was under the influence of spirits or opium or both, took a close look at Mel, who seemed to shrink into her clothes. “Oi! Yer a fine lookin’ lad, you is. Lookin’ to get your pecker polished for the first time?”
Hal nearly reprimanded the girl for her language, but caught himself. If Mel really had been his young cousin out on the town, he would want exactly that. Sherry and Terry were all but dragging the two of them upstairs. Hal wasn’t sure how he was going to stop them, especially with Madame Thurmond watching so closely.
“I would like to go upstairs,” croaked Melanie. She had, thankfully, deepened her voice as much as possible, but to Hal’s ears she still sounded like the lady she was.
“Oooh!” said Terry. “You really are a young ‘un. Hope your dear mama don’t come lookin’ for you here. But trust yer Terry. I’ll make sure yer first time is one to remember.” With that, she pulled on Mel’s arm, propelling her to the stairs.
Hal had no choice but to follow with Sherry.
He’d never been to the gold room before. It was, like all the other rooms in the house, tacky but clean. The walls were a faded gold silk. The bed hangings were a thin gold velvet. Golden cherubs were next to gold-painted snuff boxes. The furnishings were meant to suggest opulence, but to the sober eye were simply garish.
Hal was about to remark as much to Mel when he turned to see her, wide-eyed and holding her jacket shut.
Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) Page 17
