Page 49 of A Whisper of Desire
“There is nothing wrong with being discreet.”
“True,” the baron replied. “Not many know of this club, Angelo makes sure of that, so if you gained entrance, I feel you can be trusted.”
The whiskey was poured and the men settled in for a few drinks. They discussed the devastation resulting from the unusually cold summer, gray, dark, and wet. Crops were failing across Europe and North America, mainly due to lack of sunlight.
Marisa was also given a whiskey and she pretended to take little sips, when really she hated the stuff. The smell made her stomach churn.
She tuned out the two men discussing farming as if they were in White’s rather than a Molly house, and began to take an interest in the activities around her.
On a couch across the room, mostly obscured by a curtain, she could just make out in the dim lighting a man and woman kissing and fondling. It struck her as odd to have a man and woman in a club such as this. It took her several minutes to understand it was a man dressed as a woman, kissing another man.
At one end of the drawing room, the doors opened into the gaming room. Through the haze of cheroot smoke she saw a few men playing cards. Once again, nothing very nefarious in their activities. At the other end of the room a wall of books, shelved in a beautiful mahogany floor-to-ceiling bookcase, drew her attention.
Needing to stretch her legs, she made to move off Maitland’s lap, but his grip on her thigh tightened.
“I’m just going to peruse the literature for a moment. You keep conversing with your new friend,” she whispered teasingly in his ear.
“Don’t go too far, and stay in sight.”
She heard the baron laughingly say, “I wouldn’t want the lad too far from my sight either.”
Angelo’s, or the club’s, book selection was impressive. There were many expensive books, finely bound in beautiful leather covers. She ran her finger along the bindings of several, not recognizing any of the titles. She was well read and had expected to find something she’d read before.
A gold leaf–imprinted cover caught her eye. Her finger halted on the binding and she pulled it from the shelf:Sonnets by Aretino, with illustrations. I Modi.Marisa loved sonnets.
She opened the book to a random page and her mouth formed a silentO.The sonnet was in French, which she spoke and read fluently, but what captured her attention were the erotic illustrations accompanying the words. It showed a couple— she thought it was a male and a female, but she couldn’t quite be sure—engaging in coitus. Not so scandalous, except for the fact the position they were in looked about as comfortable as being stretched on the rack. She turned the book in her hand, trying to ascertain if it had simply been printed incorrectly.
One person, it was difficult to tell if it was male or female, was lying on their back with their legs pulled up and over their partner’s shoulders until only their neck and head rested on the mattress. She could see how it might work, but it looked jolly uncomfortable.
“I love that position. Much deeper penetration, don’t you agree?”
She snapped the book shut, heat flaming her face, and tucked the book into her pants, under the flaps of her jacket. She turned her head to find a man, about the same height as her, peering over her shoulder. She swung round to fully face him and took a small step back, her retreat blocked by the bookshelf.
The young man before her was dressed as a pirate, yet he looked more angelic than evil. Marisa guessed he was about her age. Perhaps her age is why he’d approached her.
He was incredibly handsome, with his ebony hair long, hanging past his shoulders, and it curled in girlish ringlets. But it was his eyes that held her spellbound. They were the palest blue, almost the color of deep, thick ice.
“I can tell by your blush that you are new to this game. I’m Clarence.” He briefly looked back at Maitland. “You have managed to score a distinguished and rich…protector.” He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes drawing her in, and she hoped her disguise held. “I can see why. You are breathtakingly beautiful. The feminine-looking men always do well. Just ensure you save the money and gifts he showers on you. Then you can afford to be fussy when looking for your next protector.” His smile diminished. “Having a protector is better than ending up in a Molly house, even an upmarket one like the Top Hat.”
“Why do you not have a protector? You’re certainly beautiful enough.”
He shrugged his slim shoulders and repositioned the cutlass at his side. “I have a younger brother. At first he was too young to be ‘useful,’ so no protector was interested in a small boy as well. Starving and on the streets, we ended up here. It’s not an unusual story, and I could have done a lot worse.”
“How old is your brother?”
“Simon is ten and two. If I could I would see him away from this life. He hates it here and is unable to cope as I did. I don’t mind the company of men, but Simon…It turns his stomach. I’m saving our money so I can set him free. I can’t have him on the streets; his life would be worse.”
Marisa shuddered to think what could be worse than this.
“At least I’m lucky because I’m one of Angelo’s favorites. That fact affords me certain protection and allows me to be choosy. I have my pick of clients.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “If you’d like to invite me upstairs with you and His Grace, I’d be very interested.”
She ignored his offer, curious about Simon. “I hope you’re protecting Simon from this life.”
He looked at her with guilt-ridden eyes. “How do I protect him from the realities of life? Everyone has to work for their keep.”
A knot began to form in her stomach. “What sort ofworkdoes he do?”
“I don’t think I need to tell you.” At her horrified stare, he added, “I started servicing clients at ten, Angelo at least waited until Simon’s twelfth birthday. When did you begin this life?”
