Taken by the Wicked Rake (20 page)

His face held such disdain that the man wiped his hands nervously on the rag at his waist, and muttered a hurried, “No harm meant.” Then he gave a nod of the head that looked almost like a sincere bow before pulling back the curtain that led down a narrow hall. They walked for some ways, and came out in a large, smoke-filled room set with tables for faro, cards and hazard, and wheels for E and O.

At midday, the room was almost empty and Dante did nothing to draw attention to his guests as he led them still further, to the back of the gaming room to a hanging on what appeared to be a blank wall. Behind it was an alcove. And at the back of that, a stairway. Stephano looked behind him, making sure one last time that no one had noticed them passing.

And she prayed they had not. For if it ever came to be known that she had come to such a place…

As though he could read her mind, he said, “There is only one person I’m aware of that knows both this place, and you. And he has sworn to quit gambling. Should I find him here, he would have as much to explain as you do. And not even he knows of the rooms I keep above stairs. You will be safe here, and as comfortable as I can make you.” He tossed a coin to Dante, who retreated as he and Verity ascended.

Verity glanced around her, trying to assess what she was seeing. The stairs entered into a large parlour, obviously meant as some sort of public reception room, but done in the most garish taste imaginable. The walls were a lurid purple, with accents of gold on the plasterwork and an excessive number of mirrors which seemed to make up for the lack of windows in the room. The candles lit in the gold sconces reflected off glass after glass to light the whole room. It gave her the impression that it was already night, even though she had seen the bright sunlight of noon just a few moments before. It was quite horrible, and not at all what she had expected. But if her husband desired she stay here, then she would learn to make the best of it. She blinked at him and said politely, “It is much larger than the vardo.”

He laughed. “You do not think this is all I have to offer, I hope.”

“It does not matter. I do not need much, really. In any case, I mean to stay with you, even if I must live in a wagon.”

His smile was a little forced, as he said, “I have a house in Bloomsbury Square that will be much more to your liking. Servants, as well. But it is currently unavailable to me. Your brothers have found it, and await me there.”

She smiled in relief. “Then why do we not go to them immediately?”

“Because the reception will be less than welcoming. And I fear someone may be hurt before we have the chance to explain your return. It is better that I take you to your family’s town house when it is dark, and then slip away quickly. I do not wish to force a confrontation before you have a chance to prove your safety.”

She did not like to think that her brothers would be a danger to Stephano, but if he said they were, then how could it not be true? Of course, they did not understand him as she did, and they must be thinking all manner of terrible things about her disappearance, no matter what messages he had relayed about her safety. But still, she looked around the room.

“It has not been changed since its previous use,” he muttered, embarrassed. “My half-sister, Imo, assures me that the Bloomsbury house is quite charmingly decorated. Nothing at all like this.”

She looked doubtfully at the walls. “That is good to know.”

“I will get Molly to prepare a room for you.” He called out to the thin, little girl who lurked in the periphery of her vision. The poor thing looked hardly old enough to do the job of a maid. “Molly. Thank God you are here. The next few hours require a woman’s touch. First, open the best room we have. For my wife.” Stephano said the last word with a small emphasis, as though he liked saying it as much as she liked hearing it.

There was a look of round-eyed amazement on the face of the girl before her.

He grinned to see her surprise. “And you are the first to see her, so it can be your secret to tell the others. I will be taking her to her family soon. But she cannot go dressed as a Rom girl. Can you draw a bath for her and find a place for her to rest? Perhaps she would like a cup of tea. I will find her a gown for a lady of quality, stockings and slippers. But can you help to arrange her hair? I know you are not a lady’s maid. But we must manage as best we can…”

“I am honoured, Mr Stephen.” The girl assured him, and hurried to one of several doors on the left wall.

Stephano turned back to Verity, taking her hand in his. “I must go away for a bit. But I shall be back, soon. Is that all right?”

She gave him what she hoped was a brave smile, thinking how ludicrous it was to see him so concerned about her welfare in the hands of a trusted servant, after the way she had come to know his family. “Of course. I will await your return.”

She followed Molly into the other room, which was every bit as garish as the salon. It was dominated by even more gilt and mirrors extending to the ceiling over the uncurtained bed. The maid hurried from candle to candle, trying to give light to the surroundings, and then she gave a small bob of a curtsy. “I am sorry that the room was not aired, ma’am. I did not expect you. And it is difficult, since there are no windows.” She pulled back a screen in the corner to reveal a bathtub, and removed towels from a cupboard in the corner.

“That is most curious,” Verity admitted. “What sort of a place, do you suppose, would have such few ways to get light and air?”

The maid gave a small giggle. “I expect there are many places where the people in ’em would like privacy more than sunlight. But they are not the sort of places where gentlemen bring their wives. Before Mr Stephen let it, this was a bawdy house.”

Verity covered her mouth with her hand, unsure whether to laugh or be mortified. “Stephano brought me to a bawdy house?”

“A former bawdy house,” the girl corrected. Then she gave a little shrug of embarrassment and said, “It is quite clean. I’ve seen to that.”

“Thank you,” Verity said, not wishing to embarrass her husband or his servant. “I hardly know how to behave. This is a most unusual circumstance. Of course, my husband is a most unusual man.”

Molly nodded in agreement. “But a very good man, ma’am. If you knew even half of it…”

“Tell me.” For if the girl knew Stephano as Mr Stephen, Verity felt almost a hunger to know the details. “Have you been to the other house that he speaks of?”

“Many times. But there has been a fire there recently. And there are some gentlemen–” the girl frowned, “–enemies of the master’s, who are currently waiting there for him. He doesn’t dare return now.”

Verity felt a quickening of her pulse at the idea that this girl thought of her brothers as villains. “I am sure that it will all be straightened out soon.”

Molly nodded vigorously. “And until then, you will be perfectly safe here. They will never find out about this place. Akshat, the butler, would die before telling. The master met him in India and says his name means
indestructible
, and that it suits him, for he can withstand hardship and torture with out so much as blinking an eye. And then there is Munch, the valet. He is a big man with a face like a mastiff. I don’t know what his past might be, but he is not the sort to stand any mischief. At first, they frightened me. But it is good to have them about the house, because of Mr Stephen’s business.”

“He has a business?” The girl must think her foolish. But it had just occurred to her that her husband must have an occupation of some kind, since his family had disowned him.

But Molly prattled on, eager to tell all she knew. “He is a jewel merchant, ma’am. And the safe is full of stones. Bags and bags of them, all loose like marbles.”

“Really! And his servants keep him safe from thieves?”

Molly giggled again. “Set a thief to catch a thief. I am not so sure of some of them, for we all have stories in our past. But the parlour maid, Jenny, was a pick pocket before she came to Bloomsbury Square. She is ever so sly. She has been sneaking in and out of the house and bringing information to me. And the bad men have not caught her yet.”

“And these are his friends?” she asked doubtfully. If the servants were a parcel of rogues, then what did it say that her family were his enemies?

Molly nodded again. “The master has done them all a good turn at one time or another, gotten them out of terrible trouble and brought them to Bloomsbury to work. Every last one would die before betraying him. And me, as well.” The girl gave a shy smile.

“And did he rescue you, too? What is your story, Molly?”

The girl gave her an odd look. “I used to work here, ma’am. But I did not like it much,” she added hurriedly.

“And Stephano…my husband…” Verity swallowed.

The girl shook her head quickly. “It was not as you might think. When he took this place and turned out the girls, some were content to find other employment and some he helped back to their families. But I had no one and nowhere to go. So he says, ‘You will come to work for me, Mol. And no funny business. A mop and broom are not easy companions, but better company than some you’ve met here, I am sure. Good, honest work, if you wish’.” She grinned. “Mr Stephen is not the least bit particular about a person’s past, as long as they prove to him that they are good, honest folk to their friends and will stand up for their mates when it is important. But you must know that of him.”

Verity wondered if this was meant as an assurance that deficiencies in her own past would be over looked, as well. And suspected that was the truth, for Mol went on to say, “Now that he has married you, you can trust us all to be as loyal to you as we are to him. And woe be onto any that cross you.” The girl gave a surprisingly dark look for one so young and small. She looked ready to storm Bloomsbury and take on her master’s enemies – single-handed, if necessary.

“That is good to know,” Verity said doubtfully.

“I’ll just go and heat the water for your bath, shall I?”

“Thank you, Mol.”

~***~

When Stephano returned to the flat above the gaming hell, he found his wife sitting demurely on the edge of a bed in one of the guest rooms. She was dressed in a fresh chemise and stays, and her hair was piled high to reveal her smooth white throat. With her hands folded in her lap and her ankles crossed, she was a rare spot of innocence in an unexpected setting. “I see you have begun to dress,” he said, setting the clothing he had brought for her on the end of the bed.

She stood up and gestured to her under things. “Molly found these in a cupboard. She says they were left behind by one of the previous tenants. But she says I shouldn’t mind that. They are brand new. For what use would a dollymop have with stays and proper undergarments?” She turned so that he could admire them. “They are very fine, and almost pretty enough to wear outside the gown.” She toyed with the lace that covered the swell of her breast, and he watched with fascination.

“Really?” He silently cursed little Molly, for he feared she had been rather more informative than he would have wished. “Then you know…”

“What sort of place this was?” She gave him a strange smile. “It was terribly wicked of you to bring me here.”

He swallowed. “I would never have done it, had the circumstances not been most unusual.”

She was still smiling at him. “But it has been very interesting.” She took him by the hand and led him to a table by the bed. “I was looking for something to read, to pass the time. But the only books here are mostly pictures. She flipped a page so that he could see, and tipped her head from side to side, considering the illustration. “I am not sure that this is even possible.”

“If it disturbs you, you need not concern yourself with it,” he said.

“But there is more.” She reached into a drawer. “I found this, as well.” She was holding a length of silk rope very similar to that which he had used to bind her. “Did you leave it here?”

Now, he could feel himself going quite pale, for he did not wish to explain to her what he under stood of the tricks and toys one might find in such a place. “No. No. That is quite different from the rope I had. I suspect that was left by a previous tenant, as well.”

“Well, it is a much more mysterious thing than ladies’ undergarments.”

“Very mysterious, I am sure. You may put it aside, now.”

But she did not, running her fingers along the length of it. “In case you wondered, I have quite forgiven you for binding me. No harm was done. The rope is quite soft. Feel.” She stepped forward and looped it about his wrists, tugging gently to pull them together in front of him. “Perhaps next time, I shall be the one to tie you.”

She could have no idea what she was saying, nor the effect it would have upon him. But the sight of the rope was intoxicating against the white of her skin, and then on his own, as she tugged gently at his wrists. The knowing curve of her smile, the soft curve of her hip under the petticoat, and the soft bed beside her were almost too much to stand.

There was no time to dally, if he meant to get her home tonight. But his body was springing to life, and she was leading him back to the bed. Her smile grew as though she had known all along how completely she had tamed him. She sat down on the mattress and reached out to undo the but tons of his trousers, freeing him, stroking him with her hand, cupping and squeezing. There was no telling what his wife had learned in a few hours alone in this place, but she seemed eager to put it to use. It had built a curiosity in her, and a hunger that he was happy to appease.

He reached for her, and she batted his loosely tied hands away, and went back to her exploration. He held himself rigid, letting her have her way. He looked into the mirrors, watching the endless reflections of her fingers moving upon him. And the pleasure and excitement grew in him until he was sure that he would explode in her hands.

She must have realized how close he was, for she lay back upon the bed and let her legs fall open, slowly drawing up the lawn of the petticoat until he could see her knees, and then the rest of her, wet and ready.