Chapter one
It was a peculiar bordello. The English gentleman was in a
position to know. He was well traveled and famous for
being broad-minded and so had seen all sorts of brothels:
tawdry, exotic, and downright dangerous ones, too. Yet in
some ways they were all the same. A man could be aroused
simply recognizing their signature scent of heavy perfumes
and cigarillo smoke, or by glimpsing peeks of dazzling
female flesh in the low light, or from hearing the sultry
laughter coming from the shadows. This place smelled of
cooking and furniture polish. The lamps were brightly lit.
The sound was all guffawing and giggles. And the only
female flesh to be seen was on hands and faces.
It seemed too homey to be a house of joy. But it was
certainly a successful one.
"Here we are," his American friend Geoff announced,
rubbing his hands together after he slipped off his
greatcoat and gloves and gave them to the maid who met
them in the hall. Geoff raised his head, sighting someone
he knew. "Ho! There's my friend Mary!" he said, hurrying
to the side of a plump middle-aged woman directing the
maidservant where to put the coats.
As Geoff chatted with the mistress of the house, the
English gentleman gravitated from the hall to the blazing
hearth in the front parlor. He warmed hishands as he eyed
the overstuffed settees, the rag rugs on the wooden
floors, the porcelain dogs on the mantle, and the framed
pictures of England on the flowered walls. The place
looked more suited to treating a man to a cozy cup of tea
than any kind of carnal ecstasy.
There were seven other men crowded in the room with him,
dallying with the four available females he couldsee. Yet
none of the men seemed eager to go upstairs, though the
hour was growing late and the weather outside was
worsening. He couldn't blame them. The women looked like
they'd be better at feeding a fellow's appetite for pot
pies than his deepest sexual desires.
They weren't much more exciting than the cabbage roses on
the wallpaper. They wore simple high-waisted gowns, in the
current style. But they didn't rise above it. Such gowns
might show high, firm breasts, if the lady dared wear her
neckline low enough. A woman who wasn't a lady certainly
would. These women wore their necklines to their chins.
Sensible in such weather, but sensibility wasn't what a
man looked for in a whorehouse. The shawls round their
shoulders hid whatever else might be interesting. Their
faces weren't. They were young, plain, and unpainted.
Still, even wrapped in their shawls, buttoned to their
noses, as innocent of rouge and powder as they were of
enticements, they each had at least one fellow listening
to their every utterance and another trying to make them
smile. The English gentleman was amused. He'd visited the
most glittering cities here and on the Continent, and at
home in England. This was only a little town on a mighty
river in the New World. A brave new world indeed. He
smiled in silent salute to the hardihood of American men,
who could be so charmed and titillated by the mere thought
of what they'd soon pay to do.
But he'd seen stranger things, and wasn't particularly
interested in anything the house had to offer but the
simplest bodily comforts. So he availed himself of them.
He edged closer to the fire and sighed with pleasure as
some of the numbness left his toes. It mightn't be
exciting, but it was a good place to be on a miserable
night. Icy drizzle had changed to freezing sleet that
tapped on the windowpanes and rattled down the chimney,
sending up puffs of steam as it hit the glowing hearth.
He'd spoken only truth when he'd said he was cold to the
bone and weary, and wanted nothing so much as a clean,
soft bed for the night.
"But that's simple enough-too simple, in fact!" Geoff had
protested when he'd told him that earlier in the
evening. "You think we're so provincial here in Virginia?
Well, so we are, compared to you. But we've more to offer
than that. Today I showed you the best acreage in the
district. Tomorrow we'll see the finest horseflesh.
Tonight, let me show you the best accommodations-and
female company," he added with a wink, "that we have to
offer a gentleman of your distinction! Fetching young
things well worth making the acquaintance of, that I,
promise you. "
So he'd let Geoff drive himthis house at the edge of the
quaint little town instead of the inn he'd seen when he'd
arrived. The man had been helpful, after all, treating him
as a friend on the basis of a written introduction,
spending the day showing him properties, promising a look
at some of the fine horses the district was most famous
for. It wouldn't do to insult him, But they'd spent the
raw afternoon in an open carriage, only getting out to
pace frozen acres.
Now he found himself in the parlor of a bordello, wanting
warmth and rest more than the temporary heat and exertion
he'd find in the arms of any of the women he saw
entertaining the other men. Getting old, he told himself,
and smiled, remembering when he wouldn't have wanted to
crawl into any bed by himself-even if it was his deathbed-
no matter what his bedmate looked like.
He grew drowsy from the heat. But he wouldn't allow
himself the luxury of sleep until he got a room...
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