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Only it wasn’t nonsense, was it? This was her life from now on, these were the sorts of places she would frequent, and she’d best get used to it. But the excitement had gone and in its place was doubt and fear and a need for Max to hold her hand.
Once her eyes became accustomed the way forward wasn’t as dark as she had thought. There was a hallway, paneled in gloomy wood, that looked as if it were part of an original medieval building, and there ahead of her shone another of the dull lamps. As she set off she became aware of voices, murmurs, and they were close by. Marietta noticed that there was a doorway a little ahead of her and to her side, and remembering what the boy had said she paused and glanced within.
There were people in there, and more than two.
For a moment she blinked, trying to make out what they were doing. Limbs wrapped about limbs, mouths open, like animals rutting…And then she understood exactly what they were doing. A face lifted, and a woman’s soft voice laughed and called, “Come join us, my lady, the more the merrier!” This was followed by a grunt and a deep groan.
Marietta picked up her skirts and ran down the hallway, her slippers beating time to the thudding of her heart. She had no intention of joining in, she did not want to. She felt so far out of her depth that she was drowni
ng. And she was frightened. More rooms, some doors open and some not. More shadows, more voices, the scent of lust swam sickeningly around her. The Lustful Lady was like no other place she had ever been before, and the ache in Marietta’s chest, the fluttering in her stomach, told her that she did not want to be one of these creatures inside the rooms. Never, ever! Indeed, she could not think of anything worse.
There was a staircase at the end of the hallway. She was hesitating, her hand upon the balustrade, when she heard a sound behind her. The scrape of a boot on the wooden floor, the rustle of clothing. With a gasp Marietta turned her head and saw, beyond the lamp’s feeble glow, the large shadow of a man. And he was coming towards her.
For some reason she thought of the man in the shabby brown coat she had seen twice before, the man with the rugged face and beady eyes. What if he had been following her about? What if he had followed her here?
With a whimper of panic she began to ascend the stairs, tripping on her skirts and catching at the wooden railing with shaking fingers. She didn’t want to look again but she couldn’t seem to help it, and when she turned it was to find her worst fears realized. Now the man was much closer, his face a sinister shadow beneath his hat, his cloak flying out behind him as he strode forward. Nearer he came as she tried to escape up the stairs. He reached the bottom of the staircase just as she reached the top, and then she was fleeing down yet another corridor, her blood pounding in her ears, her mind full of the terrible thought that he was going to drag her into one of the rooms.
The doors along this corridor were closed, but there were still sounds to be heard—cries and whispers—an endless spiral of degradation. The images she had seen were all about her, making her head spin, or perhaps that was because her stays were too tight and she could not breathe. Why had she put foolish vanity before good sense? What did it matter now? Marietta gave a little sob of regret.
And then he was upon her. He caught her about the waist, his big chest against her back, his breath hot in her ear, and with a muffled shriek she fought him, pummeling and scratching at his hands, trying to pull away. It must be a trick! Max wasn’t coming at all. She was going to be murdered, but first she was going to be—
“Shhh, Marietta.” A whisper against her cheek. “Don’t be afraid, darling. It’s me.”
She nearly burst into tears. “Max?” she gasped.
“I couldn’t send Daniel with the coach, he’s never been able to keep a secret. I drove it myself and then I had to take it around to the stableyard before I could find you. I should have told you instead of trying to pretend I was somebody else. I didn’t have the money to pay anyone else and I didn’t want you to know. It was vanity and I’m sorry.”
“Oh Max! I thought you were…”
“I called out to you just now, but you didn’t hear and then you ran away.”
She looked into his familiar eyes, brown and warm and smiling ruefully at her from the shadows. She had never seen anything more welcome.
“Max, you gave me such a fright—” She clutched his arm with her gloved fingers and her hood slipped back, revealing the gold of her loosened hair. “What is this place?” her voice was shaking, she cast little anxious glances about her. “I don’t think I like it.”
“This is an introducing house. Men and women come here to rendezvous with others who like the same pleasures,” he explained, smoothing a tendril from her face.
“But they aren’t couples! Not all of them.”
She had amused him, though he was trying hard not to smile at her. Marietta squirmed in his arms, embarrassed by her own naiveté, but he would not let her go.
“Some of these people like to share, and some don’t—that’s why the doors are open or closed. I suppose it’s all a matter of taste. You must remember, Marietta, that places like this are home to many a jaded palate. After years of seeking out every pleasure available, no matter how perverse, I imagine many a gentleman—and lady—needs something different to titillate their senses. I have heard there is even a whipping room…”
Marietta felt a curl of nausea in her stomach. She felt no urge to become one of these jaded pleasure-seekers, and yet she had a terrible feeling that many of the women who came here had once been in exactly the same position as herself.
Max reclaimed her attention. “Don’t worry, Marietta, I’m not a man who likes to share. I’ll keep you safe.”
Being here with him did make her feel better, but she wouldn’t tell him so. She knew she must learn to be bold, although tonight Marietta didn’t feel bold. She felt young and frightened and ridiculously innocent.
“I’m not worried,” she said in what she hoped was a breezy and confident voice.
Max’s strong arm tightened about her waist, and he led her forward, ignoring the rooms they passed. At the far end of the corridor was a room that was unoccupied, and he turned into it.
Curiously, Marietta glanced about her as he closed the door. A branch of candles had been lit, and the flames wavered in the stir of air. She could see a divan along one wall, and chairs and a table set with a jug of wine and two metal goblets. Everything looked clean enough, and yet there was a secondhand seediness about it she found repellent. How many other couples had stood here, just as they were, contemplating the pleasures of the flesh? What desperate and depraved scenes had these walls witnessed?
Max was standing, watching her, as she took everything in, and his face was somber. She gave him a tentative smile, suddenly so glad that he was here that she ached with it.
“Marietta,” Max murmured, and captured her fingers, bringing them up to his lips. She felt his mouth through her glove, and then his warm breath against her wrist as he kissed the only bare skin available to him.
