by Betty Brooks
The threat had no effect on her. Her expression remained unchanging. "The authorities have no problem with the house of Joy Wang," she said. "I run a clean house and they respect that. And," she added, invoking a threat in her own voice, "they come whenever they are needed to eject unwanted guests." She cocked a dark brow at him. "Will they be needed this time, Mr. Lassiter?"
Disgusted with himself for his failure to learn more, Thorne left the house of pleasure and hired a carriage to take him back to the hotel. Halfway there, he changed his mind. "Do you know of a place called Madam Louise's?" he asked the driver.
The driver nodded. "It is a house of pleasure," he said. "Do you wish to go there?"
Thorne pulled out his pocket watch and studied the face. It was barely five minutes past four o'clock. Too
early for the girls to be receiving guests. But Madam Louise should be available. That knowledge did nothing to encourage him, though. He'd received no information from Joy Wang and guessed that Madam Louise would be as tough a nut to crack. The girls who worked there, the prostitutes, were the answer. They would be his best source of information. But, since they would be in seclusion until the evening hours, he would return to the hotel and wait there with Rainey.
The thought of her brought forth the memory of how she'd looked with her legs wrapped around him, and her face flushed with passion. Oh, God, how he loved that woman! Even the thought of the pleasure that could be found in the soft folds of her body affected him. His lower body throbbed with tension, hardened with desire. It was for that reason that he instructed the driver to take him to a well-known gaming club instead of the hotel. If he returned to his room he would be sure to lose track of time. And he must not do so. Eulalie must be found as quickly as possible. He'd already spent too much time away from his farm.
It was almost dusk when Lolly received word that Madam Louise wished to see her in her office. "Whatever she wants could surely have waited until I had my chores done," Lolly grumbled to herself as she hurried down the stairway toward the large room that nobody was allowed to enter unless they were especially invited there. "She expects me to make certain everyone is ready for the night but allows me no time to do it!"
"What did you say?" a voice asked suddenly.
Lolly looked up and saw Sandy Cowan, who had obviously been on her way upstairs, studying her with a puzzled expression.
"I was just grumbling," Lolly explained. "Madam Louise sent for me and I really don't have any time to spare." She gestured to the bottle of whiskey she carried in her right hand, and the chemise and gown she carried over her left arm. "Rose is waiting for her clothing. She said her first customer is overdue already. But Madam is insistent about me going to her office."
"I could take that stuff to Rose," Sandy said, her voice almost sympathetic.
"Thank you, but no. You know Madam," Lolly said quickly. "She told me to do it . . . before she sent word that I come to her office immediately. Perhaps if she sees me with these things she'll get the idea that she's pushing me too hard."
"She'll never get that idea," Sandy said grimly. "Everyone here knows what she's about, Lolly. She wants you to entertain her customers. But you'll never do that, will you? No matter how much work she loads on you." There was a touch of bitterness in her voice. "Women like you-so high and mighty-would rather break than resort to prostitution."
Every trace of sympathy had disappeared from her voice. "Well, goody for you! But we can't all be like that, can we?" she asked nastily. "Some of us are made of stronger stuff. We do whatever it takes to survive!" Without another word, she lifted her chin haughtily, then continued on her way up the stairs.
Lolly stared after the girl, feeling shamed for some reason. She knew there was no reason to feel that way, though. It was just that she'd never known the other women viewed her in that manner-as a woman who was proud of the fact that she'd never stoop to their level. Sandy had been wrong in her estimation of Lolly's character, though. Lolly was a survivor, too. She would do whatever she needed to survive. And had she found herself in the same circumstances as Sandy-whatever those circumstances had been-she might be in the same boat as the other woman, servicing the customers that arrived in droves to Madam Louise's house of pleasure.
The interview with Madam proved to be a short one. They'd had the same conversation many times before. Many times. And Lolly never wavered in her decision. "No, Madam," she said calmly. "I will not become one of your prostitutes. Not now, nor willI ever do so."
"You owe me, Eulalie!" Madam Louise said coldly. "I bought your services from Joy Wang and I paid a high price for them, too."
"You are being paid, too, Madam," Lolly replied. "I am working here in the same capacity that I worked for Madam Wang. I am bound in servitude for three years. AndI perform my duties without question, until it comes to prostitution. That was never part of my duties. Nor willI agree to any such arrangement."
The madam's lips thinned. "If you would consider the circumstances, Eulalie, you might change your mind. One month working here as a prostitute or three years working here in the lowliest position . . . with more backbreaking work piled on you than one woman can possibly accomplish."
Although the last words were a threat, Lolly chose to ignore that fact. "I will not work as a prostitute," she said again. "Now, if there is nothing else, Rose is waiting for these things."
"Go on then]" the madam said, surprising Lolly by her sudden acceptance of the girl's refusal.
Lolly hurried out the door and headed toward the wide stairway leading to the upper floor. She knew Rose would need the liquor to help her get through the long night ahead.
That thought had barely occurred when a shout from upstairs caught her attention. "Lolly!" Rose yelled, leaning over the banister railing and looking down below. "Hurry up with that gown. And pour me a glass of that whiskey. I got a customer coming real soon."
"I'm coming, Rose!" Lolly shouted. She snatched a glass off a nearby tray and quickly poured it full of the amber liquid she carried. Rose would need the hard liquor in her belly to fortify her for the night.
"Hurry the hell up, Lollyt " Rose shouted again.
Lolly hurried toward the staircase, her gaze on the amber liquid that swirled as she moved. She'd have to hold it away from the garments she carried, lest it spill and soil them. She was so intent on her chore that she didn't see the tall, burly man coming until she collided with him. She gasped with horror as the whiskey glass upended, spilling its contents across him.
"Oh, my Godl " she cried, staring wide-eyed at the somber, auburn-haired man whose shirt dripped with whiskey.
Although he had reacted instantly, reaching out quickly to steady her, he spoke not a word, just stared at her with a curious, green-eyed gaze.
“I’m s-sorry," she stuttered. "T-terribly sorry! But, you see, Rose needed the wh-whiskeythat-that-"
"I'm wearing on my shirt," he finished calmly.
She nodded her head quickly. "Yes. She-her customer-Oh, God! I'm doing this badly. It's just that that-"
"You're feeling flustered at ruining my shirt," he said, again completing her sentence for her.
"Yes," she gasped. "That's it! Flustered! I didn't meanto-I mean-you see. I was in such a hurry that I didn't-didn't-"
His eyes were doing strange things to her. And she could hardly think with him towering over her. He appeared to be counting the freckles sprinkled across her nose. "R-Rose is in such a hurry, you see. Not that I'm laying the blame on her," she said quickly. "But this has been such a hectic day and the customers are due to arrive any minute now and-" Her green eyes widened even more and she clapped a hand across her mouth. "Oh, botheration! You must be one of them! A customer, I mean t And I'm keeping you standing here and-and . . ." Her voice trailed away and she blushed wildly, reaching out to brush at the whiskey stain covering his formerly white shirt.
"Never mind," he said brusquely. "It will wash out." Tyler Duncan had been drawn to the woman with auburn hair the momen
t he'd laid eyes on her. And those green eyes, so like his own in color, were so like the sea that he could almost drown in them. And the pink bow mouth looked as though it had been made for the express purpose of kissing.
"Lolly!" Rose shouted furiously. "Where the hell are you? I need that gown now!"
"I'm coming," Eulalie called. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I have to go. Rose needs her gown. If you'll take the shirt off while you're being pleasured uh-serviced-Oh, dear! If you'll leave your shirt out side the door, then I'll wash the stain out for you. That is, if you're g-going to b-be up there very l-long."
She didn't know why she was stuttering so badly. He wasn't handsome, not with that imposing nose and brooding brow. But his mouth wasn't bad. For a man, it was really quite nice.
"I really must be going," she stammered. "Like I said, Rose is waiting for me. H-have a nice time . . . that is . . . uh . . . goodbye!” She hurried up the stairs, then turned around again. "Don't forget to leave the shirt in the hallway. I'll see that it's washed by the time you're-uh, finished."
Lolly left him then, almost running up the stairs where the dark-haired prostitute waited.
"Who were you talking to?" Rose asked curiously.
"Some man," Lolly replied. "A customer. At least I supposed he was."
"Who else comes here except customers?" Rose asked, taking her clothing from Eulalie. She frowned at the liquor bottle. "I thought you poured me a glass."
"I did," Lolly said quickly. "But it wound up on that man's shirt. That's why I was so long in coming."
"Oh, my Godl " Rose exclaimed. "Do you think he'll complain to Madam?"
"He seemed nice enough," Lolly replied. "I don't think he'll say anything. I offered to wash his shirt while he was being serviced."
A grin played along Rose's lips. "Did you really? And what did he say to that?"
"He didn't say anything. But I suppose he'll leave the shirt outside like I suggested."
The two women parted then. Rose entered her room to don her garments and fortify herself for the long evening that lay ahead, while Lolly continued down the hall to check each room in turn so Madam would have no reason to complain about the work she was doing.
Tyler Duncan had been captivated by the young woman who had tossed liquor on his shirt. She had blushed easily, and that fact alone made him believe that the only services she performed in the house were those of a maid. He hoped he was right, that she performed no other services there, but refused to contemplate why it should matter to him one way or another. He quickly dismissed thoughts of the woman, though, knowing he must not allow the needs of his body to clutter up his mind. He would need all his wits about him to secure answers to his questions without arousing suspicion.
His lips curled in a sardonic smile as he remembered his plans. His body would soon be satisfied, and, if he had
his way, his questions answered to his satisfaction. And all without raising the least suspicion of his real reason for coming to Madam Louise's house of pleasure.
He continued across the room to the parlor, where several scantily clad girls lounged. And after speaking for a while with each woman, he made his choice known, then followed the dark-haired woman from the room. He was mounting the stairs behind her when he heard a heavy knock on the door. Having no interest in Madam Louise's customers, he continued on his way. Had he looked down, he would have seen Thorne Lassiter enter the bordello, bent on conducting his own investigation.
Lolly had completed her chores and was coming out of a room at the end of the corridor when she heard the front door open below. A quick peek over the bannister told her the man who entered had been there many times before. His face had become a familiar one this past week, even to Lolly, who usually managed to keep herself hidden from the customers who entered the house each night.
It was Madam Louise who had introduced her to Julian Hamstead, owner of a huge plantation that was located a few miles out of New Orleans.
Lolly had been surprised that Madam Louise had felt it necessary to introduce them, until she'd seen the possessive glint in Julian Hamstead's eyes. He made no bones about the fact that he desired Lolly, and that desire was obvious to any who witnessed when he looked up and saw her standing on the landing above him.
Stepping back quickly to avoid his gaze, Lolly hurried about her duties, finishing them as quickly as she could so she could retire to her room and lock the door, as was her usual practice each night until the last male guest had left the premises.
But that wasn't to be allowed, she discovered, when not more than an hour later, Madam Louise knocked on her door. "Unlock this door, Lolly. Rose needs your help!"
Lolly carefully eased the door open and peeked out at the older woman. "I thought Rose was working."
"She finished with her customer, but her gown is torn. You'll have to sew it up before her next customer comes." She gripped Lolly's arm with talonlike fingers and tugged hard at the girl.
Lolly resisted. "Wait," she said. “I’ll need a needle and thread." She hurried to her sewing box and found a needle and thread, then returned to where the madam waited impatiently.
"Go along with you now," she said harshly. "And don't dawdle along the way."
Lolly hurried up the stairs and down the long hall that led to Rose's room. And as she did, she looked for the auburn-haired man's shirt but it was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he hadn't stayed, she thought, and for some odd reason, hoped it was so.
Upon reaching Rose's room, Lolly knocked softly, then turned the doorknob and stepped inside the shadowy interior.
"Rose," she called out. "Why do you have it so dark in here? Light the lamp so I can see what I'm doing."
Silence.
"Rose? Are you there?"
Suddenly the door that she'd left open was shut be hind her. Iron grated against iron, followed by a loud click. She whirled around and grasped the doorknob, trying to turn it but it appeared stuck. Fear washed over her as she realized she'd been locked inside the room. She whirled around again and searched the shadows
with narrowed eyes. "Who's doing this?" she cried. "Rose? Are you there?"
"Nobody is here except the two of us," a hard, masculine voice said from across the room. A light flared suddenly and a match was put to wick, and Lolly stared in horror at the man who was seated on the bed, illuminated by the circle of lamplight. "Come here, my little wren," he commanded.
Terrified, Lolly backed against the door. "I thought R-Rose was in here," she stuttered. "Madam said she n-needed me to help her."
"Now, wasn't that naughty of her to lie," he replied. "Madam sold you to me for the night, and the cost was high, my dear. But for a virgin such as yourself I do not argue. You are worth the price. Come here and take those rough garments off." He patted the side of the bed, then pointed to his groin that stood out beneath the fabric of his breeches. "Harry is eager and ready for you."
She flushed hotly and looked away from him: She couldn't believe this was happening, that she was locked inside the room with the evil, little man. Her gaze flickered back to him, and to her consternation and fright, he had stripped away his clothing and stood up, his manhood extended to a dreadful size. She gulped and darted toward the door that connected with the next room, praying silently that it wasn't locked against her. But, as though he were able to read her thoughts, Julian Barnstead reacted quickly, reaching the door at the same instant that she did, obviously intent on keeping her from leaving the room.
Oh, God, she silently cried. Don't let this happen!
As Julian reached for her, Lolly grasped the doorknob and gave it a hard jerk. To her utter amazement and relief, the door popped open. Without a second thought she raced through the door . . . then stopped short at the sight of the naked couple who lay on the bed, their limbs entangled together like vines on a tree.
Julian circled her wrist with claw like fingers and jerked her toward him. "Come on, Lolly," he said angrily. "You can't escape me!" He pulled her toward t
he door again, intent on dragging her into the other room. "No!" she cried, her heart jerking with fear. "Stop! Helen! Help me!"
She was vaguely aware of a woman's head jerking past her companion's shoulder. Dark eyes stared at her with shock.
"Lolly!What's the matter?"
Before Lolly could reply,Julian Hamstead, having become tired of her resistance, struck her a hard blow on the chin. When she collapsed, he scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the other room.
"No! Don't!" Lolly screamed.
"Move, Tyler," Helen cried out, then with a furious glare at Julian, she clambered off the bed. "You let her go!" she cried. "She ain't no whore!"
She launched herself toward Julian, who knocked her aside swiftly and continued into the other room. Before Helen could recover, the door was kicked shut in her face.
Julian threw Lolly on the bed, then turned to lock the door but he was too late. It was shoved open abruptly and the large figure of a man filled the entrance.
"Stay out of this!" Julian Hamstead shouted, spreading his legs in a furious stance. "I paid for this girl and
nobody's going to stop me from having her!"
The huge man, who proved to be the one she'd spilled whiskey on, reacted with a swiftness that surprised Lolly, as well as her attacker. His fingers curled around Hamstead's neck and he lifted the smaller man off the floor. The expression on his face was enough to put the fear of God into a much larger and braver man. "She said she's not a whore!" The big man shook Julian Hamstead hard. "And any man who'd take a virgin against her will is lower than a polecat!" He bared his teeth and shook the man again, appearing to take pleasure from the head that bobbed back and forth before him. "And I never did like polecats."
Lolly lay on the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks while laughter shook her small frame. Alternately amused and embarrassed, but she was no longer afraid. How could she be afraid when the huge man had obviously appointed himself her protector? And the situation was so absurd, with everyone naked except for herself. Oh, God, what could be more amusing? Everyone naked, but the men showed no sign of arousal. There was Helen, glaring so furiously at Julian Hamstead, whose head bobbed back and forth as the huge man shook him as furiously as a dog would shake a rabbit in his mouth.