by Sahara Kelly
Or half of what she chose to tell them was the sum. No matter that the actual numbers were many, many times more than that. After all, what would two useless girls do with that kind of money? Probably fritter it away on gowns and bonnets.
And kittens.
No, better it go to a good cause, like the O’Malley House. A gentlemen’s club of sophistication and distinction where the games were straight more often than not, the dice rarely loaded and the women clean and willing.
Mary indulged in her dreams for a few moments, then lifted the curtain and peered from the window. “Oh my. It is snowing quite heavily now. Best we stay the night at the Dower House, I think.”
“We sort of guessed that we would.” Maisie touched the bag on the floor with her foot. “Me an’ Dais brought a few necessaries.”
“Clever girls.” Mary approved. “And you bathed?”
“Yes’m.”
“You made sure you’re clean everywhere?”
Two identical blushes crept over the girls’ features. “Yes’m,” they chorused again.
“Excellent. Gentlemen will spend more money on ladies who are fresh and pleasant to be with.” Mary leaned back. “Now. Do you have any questions about tonight?”
Daisy nodded. “If a gennelmun gives us a bit extra like, can we keep it?”
“Of course.” Mary nodded. “It would be all yours.”
“Is it gonna hurt, Miss Mary?”
“Oh, Maisie. Perhaps a little the first time your client puts his cock in you. But remember, these are gentlemen, not farmers or yokels with no appreciation for women.”
“See?” Daisy nudged Maisie. “I told yer.”
They both fell silent as the carriage slowed. “I think we’re almost there.” Mary gathered her reticule and checked her bonnet, pulling up her collar to cover her neck. “Make sure you have everything, girls.”
The snow muffled the horses’ hoof beats along with the sound of the wheels, so they drifted to a halt with little more than the jingle of the harness to herald their arrival.
The lights of the Dower House were ablaze, making a cheerful glow on the fresh coat of wintery white blanketing everything.
Mary felt a small frisson of excitement as they alighted and the door opened to welcome them into the warmth. She could smell the fire, and smiled a private smile at Granville, who was doing the butler’s job that evening and manning the entrance.
He smiled back, a half-smirk that told her all was ready.
Her heart thudded as she crossed the threshold, and realized she was now on the way to the future of her dreams.
Granville was feeling much the same way as he ushered the evening’s entertainment into the Dower House.
The men had arrived earlier, all six of them, and were now drinking and gaming in one of the smaller salons. Granville had agreed with Sinjin that it was probably best to start slow, let the liquor take effect and the camaraderie build before the main event.
He heard a burst of laughter, proof that part one of their plan was in place and working. The next part was to make sure the virgins were ready and well dosed with the vapors.
As the women moved further inside, he slipped through a door and double-checked their supplies. One large carboy and its precious cargo of pale gas was already tucked behind a screen in one of the main bedroom suites, and the others awaited their turn in the butler’s pantry. There was a convenient dumb waiter shaft from this small space right up to the guest floors, which would make transporting the glass containers much easier.
It was probably intended for the quick serving of hot food to elderly or incapacitated guests—this was the Dower House, after all, and its function was to provide suitable accommodations for the dispossessed lady of the house once she was replaced by the newer version.
Whatever the reason, Granville was extremely glad he didn’t have to lug the big jars up the stairs. Once up there, a slender pipe and mouthpiece assured delivery to the recipient, in this case either or both the twins.
Within five to ten minutes, they’d be eager to lie with legs spread and let whoever won the auction take their virginity. And the rest of the night would be a fuck-festival the likes of which Granville could only imagine.
Oddly enough, he felt no arousal or desire at the prospect. Perhaps it was the environment—he’d never been one to publicly share his pleasures—or perhaps it was the fact that virgins held no appeal.
He’d rather have Mary O’Malley naked and writhing beneath him when it came to carnal pleasures. But tonight the specter of experimental success and the potential for unlimited financial rewards loomed larger than any lust he might have felt.
Granville prided himself on keeping his priorities in line. He walked back into the main hall.
“All set?” Sinjin stood at the bottom of the stairs with his hand on the banister. “I took the women upstairs. They’re in the big bedroom.”
“All set. Do you want me to start the vapors or will you?”
“Why don’t you do it? I want to make sure the gaming is going well and the liquor is flowing. Bring them upstairs in about ten minutes and we’ll start the auction.”
Granville nodded. “Right then. Let’s make this a night to remember. For both of us.”
Sinjin grinned and punched his shoulder as they passed.
Upstairs, Granville tapped politely on the elegant door and wasn’t surprised when Mary opened it a little way, her face cautious. “Oh, it’s you. Come in.”
The girls were on the bed, already undressed, lolling comfortably in their delicate undergarments. No corsets here, just soft white cotton chemises showing delicate limbs.
“Appropriately virginal, I must admit.” Granville approved.
“Thought you’d like that.” Mary smirked at him.
“I like the effect. I’m not interested in the result. I like what’s between your legs much better. Hot and wet.” He licked his lips. “But later, perhaps. Right now we have to make sure our two stars are ready.”
He walked to the screen, moved behind it and attached the tubing to the carboy. There were many coils, more than enough to reach the bed. With the mouthpiece in one hand, he walked back to the twins as the tubing unwound silently behind him.
“Now girls. Here’s the special treat for you both. This vapor has come directly from the French Court. It’s quite the rage there, and we’ve gone to great lengths to smuggle some in just for you two to enjoy tonight.”
“Oh my.” Maisie’s eyes grew large. At least Granville thought it was Maisie. He really wasn’t sure, but overall it didn’t matter which one she was. Not as long as she sucked down the gas.
“Yes, a treat indeed.” He smiled, putting all his warmth and charm into it. “All you have to do is to take this little holder here, put it between your lips and breathe deeply.” He showed them the tip. “Do you think you can both do that? One after the other?”
The other twin—Daisy?—nodded enthusiastically. “Oooh, yes, I wanna try some of that French stuff. Gimme that thing…”
“Easy now, not too much to begin with.” Granville’s caution fell on deaf ears.
Eager to try the vapor, both girls shared the holder, taking turns, breathing deeply and even holding it in their lungs like experienced opium-users.
“That’s enough for now.” Granville disconnected the tube and noted they’d gone through close to half a carboy. It was a lot for the first time, but then again they were about to experience a lot of physical activity so perhaps it was warranted.
He shrugged. Too late to do anything about it now.
“Is that it?” Mary stood at his side, whispering softly.
“We wait. Give them a few minutes.” He glanced at the clock. “Sinjin will start the auction very shortly and the two winners will be here right afterward. We want these girls hot and hungry at that point.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem.” Mary eyed the bed.
The twins were lax now, stretching languorously, stroking
themselves and each other with soft giggles and sighs.
“It’s working,” said Granville. “They’ll be pliant and submissive from now on. Pretty much ready for anything.”
Mary’s eyes narrowed as the girls reached for each other, apparently eager to tease, to fondle—it was erotic, without question.
“Time to bring in the customers, I think?”
Granville nodded. “Yes.”
He went to the double doors and opened not just one, but both, as Mary went around the room and dimmed all the lamps except those near the bed. Looking over his shoulder, Granville approved the decadently sensual vision. The twins were a blended mingling of long dark hair, creamy white flesh and sheer cotton tangled around their bodies.
They were fully engaged with each other, touching breast and thigh, sliding hands over skin bared to the dim light and uttering tender moans as their bodies began to experience the flush of arousal and the extra thrust of desire from the vapor traversing their veins.
Granville relaxed. It would do.
And as Sinjin escorted the six raucous and slightly drunk visitors into the bedroom to share the delights and bid for the pleasure of taking one first, silence fell as each absorbed the uninhibited display before them.
“A thousand pounds.” The first bid broke the silence.
Yes, it would do very well indeed.
Chapter 13
The wind bit savagely at Portia’s nose as she plodded through the deepening snow behind Burke. Charlotte was close at her side, muffled in several scarves and with a rather intimidating woolen hat pulled low over her ears.
They needed the protection, since it appeared the snow had decided to become a full-blown storm. She prayed it wouldn’t stop them from what they would do this night, and also blessed Mother Nature for keeping the curious away.
She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to take an idle stroll in this kind of unpleasantness.
The little group forged a path toward the excavation site, carefully negotiating hidden obstacles and managing—mostly—to stay upright. Charlotte had brought a stout walking stick along, so she was able to poke at the ground in front of her and not fall into any frozen ruts beneath the smoothing blanket of white.
“One good thing,” she whispered, her breath a cloud of steam, “all this snow makes a lantern quite unnecessary, wouldn’t you say?”
She was right, realized Portia. The darkness couldn’t be as black when the ground was covered with a reflective surface of icy glitter. It was indeed a blessing in disguise.
They had planned out most of their actions, always keeping in mind some very serious variables.
Portia would be the one to investigate the tunnel, simply because she was slender enough to fit in through the smallest of entries. Burke did not want to advertise their find, so planned on breaking the least amount of tunnel wall to allow her access.
Always assuming there was actually room in there, something which none of them knew. This might be a fool’s errand, but somehow Portia knew it wasn’t. She’d not had chance to try and reach Devon, but once in the tunnel she hoped that would change.
A small pocket lantern bumped against her leg; an ingenious little device she could hold in her hand. The gaseous material inside a tiny glass bulb could be heated to a strong glow and would last quite some time. The housing focused the light in a beam, something miners were just starting to appreciate, since it eliminated open flames even though it took a lucifer to warm it to the correct temperature. Always a supporter of new inventions, she’d been utterly enchanted when James had entrusted her with it, telling her not to drop the damn thing since he’d ‘borrowed’ it from a friend in London. He had the matches in his pocket where he assured her they’d be dry.
It didn’t take them long to reach the site and even though the snow was now quite deep, Portia recognized the oddly shaped lump of the covered wheelbarrow.
“There?” She breathed the words.
James nodded and Charlotte moved up the slope, stopping at the edge of the pit leading into the hillside.
Portia was right behind her. The barrow had offered a little protection against the snow, so behind it the ground was almost bare. In the dim light she could see a faint gleam, the pottery housing of the tunnel, she hoped.
Once more Burke walked to the edge and leaned down, tapping on it with the stick Charlotte had handed to him.
It was definitely hollow.
“This is where I fell and I need to make the hole bigger. Stand back a little. Cover your faces.”
He grabbed the end of the stick and swung it, letting the solid wooden knob handle bang into the wall of the tunnel. There was a satisfying crack and a good-sized chunk thudded to the dirt beneath.
“Don’t move yet…” He cautioned them, fumbling for his own little lantern. Shortly thereafter came the flash of a lucifer and within a moment or two the steady beam of light shone into the hole. “All right. It’s clear.”
The two women rushed to his side, and Portia leaned in. “It’s hollow.”
Her words reverberated a little, a tiny echo telling her that there wasn’t any kind of immediate blockage.
“It is.” Charlotte agreed. “What do you think, Portia? It won’t be easy, I’m sure…” Her concern seeped into her voice.
“If it ends up where it’s supposed to, this is Devon’s way out. Of course I’m going to try. You’ll be here if I get into trouble. And I’ll shout. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”
She was itching to get going, to crawl on hands and knees if she had to, just to get to Devon and liberate him from his prison. For a second she felt a touch, a tiny flare of sensation somewhere familiar in her mind. “He knows. Devon knows. I just felt him. It can’t be that far from here.”
Burke sucked in a gulp of air. “I suppose it’s not, as the crow flies. The other side of this hill might well be the start of the laboratory underground, since we know it’s a large facility and extends well beyond the Hall.” He put his hands on Portia’s shoulders. “You don’t have to do this. We can find another way.”
“James, you know I have to. Any other way would take too long. I’m afraid for Devon. If this works, we can have him out tonight. Tonight. Think about it.”
“I’m thinking of what you could face in there.”
“Don’t.” She put her hands over his. “Trust me. Please. I don’t want to die a useless death. If I can’t get through, I’ll back out.”
“You have your weapon?” Charlotte stood at James’s side.
“Yes. It never leaves me.” She grinned. “And I hope I don’t need it, but it’s here if I do.”
James sighed. “Very well. God go with you, child.”
Charlotte leaned in and kissed Portia’s cold cheek. “Go and get your young man. I want to meet him.”
In spite of the conditions, Portia blushed. “Yes, ma’am.” She turned to the small, darkened hole, dropping to her knees and crawling carefully into the gloom.
It was time to rescue Devon Harbury. They had both waited long enough.
Behind her, Charlotte snuggled into James’s arms and they both sank down into the shelter of the barrow. To wait…
*~~*~~*
At the Dower House, the evening was progressing according to Granville’s and Somerly’s well-conceived plans. In fact, it was succeeding even better than they could have expected.
All six of their guests, slightly drunk and clearly aroused, had engaged in a spirited auction for the pleasure of deflowering the two virgins on offer. By this time, both girls were all but naked, their sheer chemises damp with their own sweat.
Granville could see their eyes; dilated pupils making them appear almost black. He knew the vapor had produced the desired effect. They were now craving the sexual satisfaction they’d never even known.
Why the ingredients should ignite such fervor, Granville didn’t know. His scientific curiosity was aroused every bit as much as the other men’s libidos, but he’d never been able to rea
ch a satisfactory conclusion.
The liquor began to flow faster now.
Sinjin had taken one twin into another room, and the guests had decided to wander between the two boudoirs, shedding clothes like a cat sheds fur in the summer.
Mary was everywhere at once, it seemed, but in light of the nubile flesh awaiting them, the men paid her little attention. For the moment anyway. Granville, on one of his trips to the small parlor between two suites where he stacked cast-off garments, wondered when they’d start looking for more prey.
And if Mary was going to agree.
She would do pretty much anything if the price were right, he knew. And with these six? Money was no object.
The auction had raised an astounding twenty-seven thousand pounds. The winner, a minor connection of the royal family, had bid fourteen of those thousand for one virgin and the runner-up, scion of one of the oldest families in England, had bid thirteen.
Mary would have no problem separating these drunken fools from some more of their inheritance. Although with the proceeds from the auction alone, she would be set for life.
It was time for the high-bidder to claim his prize.
It spoke volumes about the kind of men they were—even as their companion mounted the bed, cock hard and ruddy, they stood by, naked, arousing themselves as the spectacle began.
The girl on the bed simpered and touched her hard nipples, playing with them through the thin cotton.
Above her, the naked lord moved closer, forcing her thighs wide and pulling at the chemise until it ripped, baring her lush black woman’s curls and the swollen lips of her sex.
“Here it is, lads. Unplowed fields of pleasure.”
There were cheers and huzzahs as his hands slipped under her buttocks, lifting her off the bed and positioning her exactly where he wanted her.
“C’mon Charles, don’t take all night.” One of his friends urged him on. “I want to watch Freddy next door as well.”
