“On the contrary, it’s intense,” Vanessa said. “I suppose you could say that I crave things some other women might find repugnant. But none of us are forced to be here. We all love to serve the order.”
“The order?” Maisie said, although she was nervous about hearing the answer.
“The men who are meeting tonight call themselves The Order of the Nine,” Vanessa said. “They are the governing members of the Kensington Guard.”
Maisie shook her head. “I’ve never heard of them.”
“Of course you haven’t,” Vanessa said. “They work to keep themselves secret. They like sex, hard and heavy sex. Most of them have a specific mistress, but during these meetings they have orgies, just like the Romans did. That’s what tonight’s meeting will turn into—an orgy. They will discuss my fleeing from my patron, and they will set up a punishment. After that is over the other ladies will be invited in and there will be whippings, followed by all manner of sexual activities.”
“I need to leave,” Maisie said. “You need to get out of there so I can get my valise.”
Vanessa laughed. “You think you’ll be able to get out tonight? Aldis will have the doors secured, and there will be guards making sure no one but the nine enter.”
“Aldis?”
“Mr. Cummings to you,” Vanessa said. “Just stay in here and you’ll be fine. No one is forced to take part. Quite a few of the ladies upstairs are actually widows of quality, as one might say. They were looking to spice up their lives, and look what they found, pleasure under the application of a riding crop.”
Maisie felt queasy, as if she might lose the contents of her stomach, which would be bad, since she hadn’t eaten anything.
“You’re not a lady of quality,” she said. “I’m not trying to be rude, but if Jack is your brother, you’re not a member of society.”
Vanessa laughed. “You’re right, I’m not. I fled from Jack when he sold me to others.”
“He tried to do it, but didn’t succeed,” Maisie said. She moved across the room and sat down on her bed. She lay down in an effort to still her insides. This was worse than what she’d thought. Training mistresses was one thing, but hosting orgies?
“How did you get involved with this club if you are not a member of society?” Maisie asked.
“I met my patron when I was in London,” she said. “He was trolling White Chapel for a whore, and I sucked his cock. He liked my skills and came back to look for me the next night, where he bent me over. I was so tight he took me home with him, well not his home, because his wife was there. He took me to one of his houses and cleaned me up. Then he spanked me for being a whore.”
Vanessa moaned, and Maisie’s stomach did a few flips.
“How can you allow yourself to be used like that?” Maisie asked.
“Used?” Her laughter filled the room. “Have you not been listening? I love it. I savor every stroke he gives me.”
“Lower your voice,” Maisie said. She sat up and reached for a piece of cheese. She took a bite and immediately spit it out.
“I want them to find me, remember?”
“Not here!” Maisie practically flew across the room. She stuck her finger in Vanessa’s face. “Get out! If you want to play your game do not drag me into it.”
It was on the tip of Maisie’s tongue to ask if Vanessa had somehow been involved in Maisie finding out about the position here. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Vanessa was Jack’s sister.
“This is not a game.”
Maisie turned toward the doorway where Mr. Cummings stood with two other men.
“Vanessa, please go upstairs while I speak with Mrs. Glover.”
Vanessa giggled as she slid from the wardrobe. She landed on her knees and looked up at Mr. Cummings. “Am I in the right position?”
“Go,” he said harshly.
She started to crawl and he stepped in front of her. “Don’t make this worse, Vanessa. Get up and go upstairs.”
She stood and dusted off her skirt. “As you wish,” she said.
Maisie realized she, herself, used that phrase and it had come from Jack. He used it when he started to fill customers’ orders at the public house. She hadn’t thought of that until the words came out of Vanessa’s mouth. As far as Maisie was concerned that was confirmation of her story. She really was Jack’s sister.
Vanessa lifted her skirts and skipped out of the room. Maisie could hear her whistle echo in the hallway as she moved farther away.
“I didn’t hide her,” she said. “I swear it. But I want to leave, if you will allow it.”
“It’s almost dark,” Mr. Cummings said. “What sort of man would I be if I allowed a woman to leave with no place to go?”
Maisie put her hand on her stomach. She really was going to vomit.
“Mrs. Glover, I’m sure Vanessa, in her own way, told you our real purpose here. You do not have to worry about being drawn in. We really did need a seamstress when we hired you. We are not looking for another student.”
Ideas rolled through Maisie’s brain. Finally she said, “Give me money for the train to London and I will leave.”
He stared at her for a few moments. “What is your implication, Mrs. Glover? Are you saying you want money to keep quiet?”
Maisie’s eyes opened wide as she stared at him. “No, that’s not what I said.”
He sighed heavily, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Mrs. Glover, today has not been one of my better days. I understand you are upset about what you’ve learned, but I don’t have the time to discuss it with you right now. If you would stay down here tonight, I can guarantee your safety.”
“So the men in your club are dangerous?”
“Not at all,” he said. “They know the ladies upstairs, who are also part of the club and not, as you seem to think, victims. But it would concern them to see you.”
“Because they would think, like you do, that I would use the information against them?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Thank you for being honest,” she said.
“I know this isn’t what you expected when you came to us about employment,” he said.
“You’re very right about that,” she said. “You should have told me the truth. You can see how your failure to do so makes it difficult for me to believe anything else you say.”
He clicked his tongue against his teeth, a noise that had always made Maisie shiver. “I can see that,” he finally said. “But I can assure you about tonight. I can lock you in if you like.”
“Not on your life,” she said.
“Then we seem to be at an impasse,” he said.
“No, I will stay down here.” She indicated the tray. “I could use a little more food, since Vanessa ate mine.”
“She can be greedy in many ways,” he said.
There was a pregnant pause as they stared at each other.
“I will check on you after tonight’s events,” he said.
“You mean after the orgy?” She couldn’t keep the contempt from her voice. “How did you plan on keeping things from me? Is it true that all the ‘students’ here are older? Did you not think I would notice?”
He continued to stare and she cocked her head. “Or did you think you could draw me into your scheme?”
“We can have a long discussion tomorrow,” he said. “In the meantime, enjoy your evening.”
He left and Maisie stared at the spot where he’d stood. Things certainly had gone to the devil in the past few days. How had she been so prepared to enjoy her life here, creating clothes and mending things?
But now that she knew what was really happening what she really wanted was to run with the wind at her back.
She sat down on the bed and sighed. Were all of the women here really like Vanessa, who had obviously been thrilled to go with the man who had been with Mr. Cummings? Something told her they were, or maybe it was just her optimistic mind that made her think that way.
It was
a fact that men like Jack used young women to make money. But Vanessa was not young. And the only way that Maisie could be sure that the other ladies were not young would be to sneak upstairs and have a look for herself.
Doing that without being caught might be difficult. What time did she hear the meeting was supposed to start? She was pretty sure it was at nine. They would use the room where she’d left the robes to prepare. Which meant, to her, that it would be empty at nine, or even a little before. That would mean she could sneak up the stairs around then. Maybe someone would leave the panel open between the room with all their special equipment and the library.
If so she would have a perfect place to see the happenings.
She didn’t care that she’d told Mr. Cummings she would stay downstairs. He had lied to her about this place, which, to her, meant she could do what she needed to do in order to find out the truth in the matter.
A look at her plate showed how much Vanessa had taken. She reached for a bite of cheese just as Megan appeared with another tray. She handed it to Maisie and then picked up the other one. Before Maisie could say a word the other woman was gone.
“I’m certainly not making new friends,” Maisie said as she studied the plate. But she was hungry. She would eat and then doze for a bit before she put her plan into motion.
Truth will out, she said to herself as she chewed. It always did.
The candle had gone out when she woke, but the gaslight in the hallway called to her. She took her taper out there and lit it, and then sat in her room and waited for the clock to tell her what time it was.
The bongs told her it was quarter after nine, which meant the meeting had already started. That could be a good, and bad, thing. Hopefully the men would be so interested in their business that they would not notice her in the hallway. Of course that was wishful thinking on her part.
She wouldn’t be familiar to the men whose robes she’d pressed that afternoon, but the same couldn’t be said for Mr. Cummings. She needed to stay away from him. If he caught her upstairs, it would be very bad for her.
The kitchen was empty. Maisie snuffed her candle and left it on the counter before she moved into the dining room. From there she could hear muted voices. It seemed as if several men were talking over each other, each one louder than the next as if they were working to be heard over the other. None of them sounded happy.
Maisie crept down the hallway and the voices grew louder. As she reached the panel that opened onto the cloakroom she almost squealed in delight. The panel was open. She slipped inside before she checked to see if anyone else was in there. Once again she wanted to let out a cry of delight—the room was empty. The cloaks she’d hung up that afternoon were all gone, replaced by what looked like suits of men’s clothing—coats, vests and breeches. It made her wonder if the men wearing the robes had nothing on under them.
As cautiously as possible she made her way to the second panel, which was also open. She peeked into the room, which was brightly lit. There was a fire in the huge hearth, and every gaslight flared.
At the sight before her, Maisie put her hand over her mouth and dropped to her knees. Vanessa, naked as the day she was born, was bound between two columns. Her hair hung loose, some of it hung over her front, but barely covered her breasts. Her quim was devoid of hair. She held her head high, her gaze focused on someone sitting in the front row of nine men.
“It seems unreasonable to me to punish her,” a voice said. “She enjoys it too much. Make her watch as the proceedings continue. Don’t give her any whipping, or any other sort of gratification. That, James, would be punishment enough.
“She belongs to me.” Maisie decided that voice belong to James, who would be Vanessa’s benefactor. “Don’t presume to tell me how to deal with her, Harrison.”
“She’s brought about problems for us all,” another voice said. “Come James, use a cane on her. We all know that does not provide a pleasant spanking.”
“No, no!” Vanessa’s plea contained real horror. “I won’t do it again, I promise. James, my lord, please do not cane me.”
“She ran away,” yet another voice said. “If she were mine, I would cane her every day for a week.”
“It was only to force a punishment,” Vanessa said. “It was meant as a prank, I promise. I won’t do it again.”
Maisie frowned. Hadn’t Vanessa told Mr. Cummings last night that she had left because her benefactor had been cruel to her? She was pretty sure that’s what she’d heard.
“Very well,” James said. “Ten on her bum, ten on her thighs. Prepare her, and bring me a cane.”
“No, no!” Vanessa thrashed against her bonds. Mrs. Beale, wearing a black dress with a white apron, and another woman dressed just the same, hurried into the room. They undid Vanessa’s legs. They slowly undid her wrists, grasping them and holding her as Vanessa fought to break free.
Two more women, dressed just the same, carried in what Maisie thought of as a church kneeler. It took three of the women to wrestle Vanessa over it. Once she was in place the third woman secured her legs with a stock-like apparatus. Maisie could only assume her hands had been secured in the front, since she couldn’t see anything now but Vanessa’s bum and the backs of her thighs.
Mrs. Beale started toward the room where Maisie hid. She entered the room just as Maisie moved back to the changing room. Maisie knelt and watched as Mrs. Beale picked up a long cane and swept it through the air. She smiled and headed back to the other room.
Maisie knew she should say something, cry out in an effort to save Vanessa from what was about to happen. But if she did that, would the group put Maisie in her place and do the same to her as they were about to do with Vanessa? Something told her they would, and it frightened her more than anything she’d ever thought about before—it was even more terrifying than the thought of Jack selling her to other men. Having sex with a man was one thing, but being caned was something else entirely.
Could she make some sort of ruckus to disrupt things, then make it down to her room before they caught her? Probably not, and even if she did, they would probably search for the problem, and then cane Vanessa after things died down. Something told Maisie these were not the type of men to be dissuaded.
She needed to leave before the punishment started. Hearing Vanessa’s cries, which had already started despite the fact that no strikes had been laid down, was not something Maisie thought she could handle.
Deciding it would be best to stay low, she turned and started to crawl toward the outside door, only to stop when she saw a figure standing there, facing toward the dining area.
It was Mr. Cummings. He didn’t wear a cloak, just breeches, shirt and vest. He didn’t even have on a cravat. When she saw the direction in which he looked, Maisie worried that he was searching for something, specifically her. But he didn’t know she was out of her room, did he? Had he gone downstairs to make sure she’d kept her promise and, not finding her there, had come up here to look?
But if he were looking for her, the sound of Vanessa’s scream as the cane met her flesh caught both of their attentions. Maisie doubled over, putting her hands over her ears. She looked up to see the panel to the hallway close. At least, she thought, Mr. Cummings was on the other side.
But if he meant to close that one, would he want to do the same with the ones that led from the cloakroom to what Maisie had started to think of as the storage room, and then from the storage room to the library? If so, Maisie needed to get out from her hiding place as quickly as possible before he locked her inside. If that happened the men would find her when they returned to change into their clothing.
Hiding in the library had worked before, even if there had only been two people present at the time; and there had been no whipping taking place, either. Maisie uncovered her ears, only to hear the heavy swoosh of the cane before it landed on Vanessa’s bottom, or maybe her thighs. Either way, the strike produced an ear-splitting scream that made Maisie want to run to the front of the room
and put herself in between Vanessa and her so-called patron.
Maisie stood, ready to do just that, but strong arms grasped her around her arms. The swoosh sounded again, followed by Vanessa’s scream. A hand went over Maisie’s mouth as the remaining arm pulled her into his chest.
“Stay silent, Mrs. Glover, if you wish to get out of this unscathed.” Mr. Cummings’s breath heated her neck as he spoke. “I should have known that I couldn’t trust you. I should have locked you in your room.”
From her new vantage point, Maisie could see the man lift the cane in the air before he brought it down on Vanessa’s backside. Even from this distance, Maisie could see the welts that rose on her friend’s backside.
Maisie did the only thing she could think of—she opened her mouth and bit Mr. Cummings’s hand.
“You little devil!”
She could hear the pain in his voice, but he didn’t loosen his grip. He pulled her back into the cloakroom.
“You should have stayed in your room,” he said.
Maisie’s words were muffled against his hand. He loosened it slightly and said, “Please repeat what you said.”
“I said you and your friends are animals,” she repeated. “When I am gone from here I will find the authorities and report this horrid behavior.”
Another swoosh, thwack and cry filled the air. Tears leaked from Maisie’s eyes as she thought about what her friend was enduring,
“You know nothing about what is happening,” he said, “nor do I have the time to tell you. I’m going to lock you in my office because I don’t have time to take you downstairs. When I get back we will talk.”
“Go to hell!” she said. She tried once more to bite him but he held his hand just far enough away that she couldn’t do as she wanted.
She felt him move, but couldn’t see what he was doing. She found out when he wrapped what she thought was a sash over her mouth after he’d pulled away his hand. He tied it tightly and then lifted her over his shoulder. She thrashed against his hold but knew it would do no good.
When they reached his office he tossed her on the divan near the fireplace and was out the door before she could get her bearings enough to rush past him. She heard him turn the key. Maisie pulled the sash from her mouth and hurried to the door. The key was missing from the lock.
Ready To Obey Page 5