“What are you doing my lord?” she asked, eying him warily.
“’Tis of no significance. And my name is Hal.”
“It would be inappropriate for me to call you that.”
“Of all the inappropriate things you have done, are doing and no doubt shall do in the future, calling me Hal is by far the most minor transgression. Did you bring a disguise? There are likely to be any number of lords there tonight. It wouldn’t do to be recognized.”
“I have a hood, which will shield me from those who do not know me well, but allow me to be recognized by the women I’ve come to see.”
“I see you have some sense, Melanie, although a hood will do nothing to disguise your very distinctive eyes.”
“It is Miss Sutton, my lord.”
“And I am Hal,” he said, as he sat back and watched her pull the hood up over her magnificent hair. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked. The concept of her mahogany locks against white silk sheets was intriguing. He wondered if her nipples were a light brown or a deep rose.
She was wearing a grey gown, which she probably imagined would help her blend into the surroundings, but in fact would only call attention to her. The whores would be wearing colorful silks and satins, or barely clad in dressing gowns. None would be caught dead in grey. In addition, Melanie had the grace and demeanor of a lady and an enviable figure. She would outshine anyone, grey gown or no.
Then he remembered her stockings. And he asked without thinking, “May I see your stockings?”
Her look was one of shock along with some other emotion. Hal very much wanted to know what it was.
“My lord, that is a very improper question.”
“Forgive me. I shall rephrase. Miss Sutton, pray do me the honor of showing me your ankles.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“That does me great sorrow. I simply wished to know whether you still wear embroidered stockings.”
This time she looked shocked and more than a little wary. “How would you know what my stockings look like?”
“So you are wearing them,” said Hal with a grin. “I would love to see them, just to confirm that fact.” When she did nothing more than pull her hem down further, he took mercy on her. “I saw you once, a few weeks ago. You were with Mrs. Seton’s group, singing some sort of hymn. You’d bent to tie your shoes, and I caught a glimpse of your stockings.”
Mel looked at him, and blinked slowly. “We were near Mr. White’s pawn brokerage. You were by yourself.”
“Yes,” said Hal, absurdly pleased that she’d noticed him and remembered. “I was helping my brother Arthur with a task. I remember wondering how a reformer could afford such expensive stockings. And before you leap to conclusions about how I know the price of such finery, I should remind you I have a sister who likes to shop.”
“And you know about embroidered stockings from her?” asked Mel dubiously.
He grinned again. “No. I have other sources, but my sister does love to shop.” He looked out the window as the carriage drew to a halt. “I told our coachman to stop down the block from Madame Thurmond’s. It wouldn’t do to advertise our presence, especially since I do not believe she would look kindly on anyone trying to lure away her girls.”
He stepped down from the carriage, then reached in to Mel. As she placed her hand in his, he had the oddest sensation, like a shock to the system. She must have felt it, too, because she looked into his eyes as they made contact. For a moment, time stood still. For a moment, it was like an earlier age, when he hadn’t been jaded to polite contact with eligible females.
But an eligible female she was, so he moved away from her as soon as she had both feet on the ground. “I believe,” he said, as he cleared his throat, “that we can access the alley behind Madame Thurmond’s if we walk between these buildings.”
“You would be the expert.”
“I shall take that as a compliment to my sense of direction, as I am sure it was meant. At what time do you expect to meet up with these, uh, ladies?”
“I didn’t set up an appointment, but the last time I was here, they were in the alley after their supper. Just as they appear to be now.”
As they approached the service entrance of Madame Thurmond’s establishment, there were several people milling around outside. Hal recognized a few of the stable lads, as well as three or four of the large men who kept order inside the brothel. There were also a few prostitutes having a smoke and laughing with the men. He recognized most of them, and had employed several.
This was going to be an awkward encounter.
But the intrepid Melanie Sutton had no such reservations. She approached the group, lowered her hood and turned her blazing smile on the crowd. She was met with confused looks and suspicion. She forged onward nonetheless. Hal held back and kept to the shadows.
“Permit me to introduce myself. I am Melanie Sutton and I’m here on a task for the Friends Society of Philadelphia.”
“The wot?” asked a stable lad digging a finger in his ear with enthusiasm.
“The Friends Society of Philadelphia. You might know them as the Quakers.”
“You a preacher of some sort?” asked a woman wearing a silk dressing gown and little else, despite the cold.
“No. I just wanted to speak to you about opportunities,” said Melanie.
“Well, as long as you got coin I got an opportunity for you and yer friend in the shadows,” said the dressing gown woman.
As the onlookers turned to look his way, Hal reluctantly stepped out.
“Oi!” said the dressing gown woman. “It’s Lord ‘Al. If I’d knowed you was with ‘im, miss, I wouldn’t a kep’ you talkin’ so long. Let’s the three of us get inside.”
Hal was afraid something like that might happen. The woman in the dressing gown was a girl named Terry, whom he’d patronized several times over the past few months, including his recent night out with Francis. He hardly thought she was looking for salvation.
“Is this lady a friend of yours, Lord Henry?” asked Melanie in a tone that made him think she already knew the answer.
“’Lady!’” snorted Terry. “Ain’t never been called that before except for a nob who liked to pretend I was ‘is best friend’s wife.
“I’m sure that is an interesting tale best left untold,” said Hal. “Thank you for the offer, Terry, but I’m afraid my friend and I aren’t here to solicit your services.”
“Then why are you here, Lord Hal?”
Hal turned to see the arrival of Aurelia Thurmond, flanked as she often was by two of her burly servants. Madame Thurmond was in her middle years, her black hair flecked with grey, including a shock of it at her temples. She didn’t dress with the flamboyance of the typical madame. Tonight she was wearing a purple silk evening gown that might have been worn by a society matron at the opera. Hal didn’t know how much Madame Thurmond earned from her business, but he suspected it was a healthy living.
Her brothel was one of the more elegant in London. It was clean and featured girls who, for the most part, were free from the opium addiction so common among those in their trade. And it charged a premium for services.
Madame Thurmond herself was soft-spoken and maintained almost a clinical detachment from the services her business offered. She might as well have been a solicitor drawing up business contracts for all the emotion she displayed to her clients.
That wasn’t to say she always remained so unruffled. But her infrequent bouts of temper were rarely witnessed by clients. If a girl displeased her, such as being rude to a client or pocketing too much of the payment she received, she was simply dismissed and never seen at the brothel again.
Occasionally, Hal wondered where they went. He’d known a few girls who’d suddenly left Madame Thurmond’s. One had been offered a long-term position as a banker’s mistress. He’d heard another had gained employment at a rival brothel. A third girl was rumored to have gone back home to Northumberland. Hal wasn’t sure if he believed that one. More likely,
she’d simply disappeared into the vast London stews.
Madame Thurmond was rumored to have a business partner, though no one had ever seen him. But it was thought that her partner was the one who kept the Watch away from her house and who ensured she didn’t lose her business to any of the crime syndicates that were always looking to expand.
Quite frankly, Hal had never given any of it much thought. When he was at the brothel, he exchanged pleasantries with Madame Thurmond and told her when he wanted to move on to a new girl. She was always polite, but never personal.
But as she approached Melanie, Hal could tell that Aurelia Thurmond was not pleased with the disruption to her business. It was still early and the girls had all been on a break, but he was sure she wouldn’t take kindly to suggestions that her employees forsake their careers and move to the American frontier. He knew she personally wouldn’t resort to violence, but wasn’t sure what her two bodyguards would do. He moved closer to Melanie, inserting himself between her and the two men.
The move – and likely its meaning – was not lost on Madame Thurmond.
“Good evening, Lord Henry. It is a pleasure as always to see you,” she said with a smile that didn’t make it to her eyes. But then, hers rarely did. “I do not believe I have met your friend.”
Against his better judgment, Hal introduced the two women. He bit back a smile when the forthright Miss Sutton moved to shake hands with Madame Thurmond. The madame hesitated for moment, then with a bemused smile shook hands.
“To repeat my question from a moment ago,” she continued. “Why are you and your friend here, Lord Henry, if not to take Terry up on her offer?”
“It was my idea to come,” said Melanie before Hal could answer. “I wanted to talk to your employees about an opportunity to go to Philadelphia, to start a new life in America.”
“I have found,” said Madame Thurmond, “that a new life often presents the same old problems, just in a different location.”
“But sometimes, that new location presents opportunities one might not find elsewhere. I obviously do not wish to coerce anyone into leaving, Madame Thurmond. I just want to let the women know they have a choice. As you so astutely pointed out, a change in geography doesn’t eliminate all problems. But sometimes the change in scenery is the starting point to great change in a person’s life.”
Madame Thurmond considered Melanie’s words. Then she turned to her employees. Several girls had come out of the house to see what was going on. There was quite an audience for them both right now. “Miss Sutton is offering you a new life,” she said, as she slowly walked around the yard, looking her girls in the eyes. “If anyone wishes to take her up on the offer, go with her now. Nothing is keeping you here. If you want to take your chances on the American frontier, go with the lady.”
There was complete silence after she spoke, then one by one the girls began filing back into the house.
Madame Thurmond turned to Melanie. “It seems they would rather stay with the familiar than venture into the great unknown. But thank you for thinking of their well-being, Miss Sutton. Our evening is about to begin, so I must go back to work. I trust you have other souls to save, so I will not keep you. Unless you and Lord Henry have reconsidered and would like to have an evening at my house tonight. I shall even make it gratis to prove I have no hard feelings.”
For a moment, Hal thought Melanie wouldn’t understand they were being warned off. But she looked Madame Thurmond in the eyes and replied. “Thank you for your offer, but I believe I have finished with my business here – tonight.”
Madame Thurmond nodded briefly then turned and re-entered the brothel, with her bodyguards in tow.
When it appeared that Melanie wasn’t going to move from the spot, Hal put her arm through his and gently pulled her down the alley. “I believe it is time we joined Mrs. Seton. I did tell her you wouldn’t be late.”
“I was waiting to see if any of the girls would sneak back out,” she said, as she tried to look behind them.
“They won’t,” said Hal. “Madame Thurmond warned off both you and her girls.”
“She did no such thing to me. I could tell a few of those girls were curious. It may take them a while to consider my proposition. I mean, it takes a great deal of courage to completely uproot yourself from familiar surroundings. But one of them may well decide to join me. And I shall be here when she does. Make no mistake – I am coming back.”
Without thought Hal turned her toward him, lightly but firmly gripping her elbows. “It would be the height of lunacy to come back here. Did you happen to see the size of the men with our good madame? I’ve seen them fight men three times your size and win. Do you have any idea how much they could hurt you? And I don’t mean from only a beating. This is a dangerous part of town for a woman. Anything could happen to you and Aurelia Thurmond would set it all in motion without a second thought.”
She looked at him with wide eyes and an emotion he could not quite define. But, oddly enough, it didn’t seem to be fear. “If Madame Thurmond is such a dangerous woman, why do you patronize her establishment?”
Damn. The woman had a habit of striking at his core. “Madame Thurmond is not a danger to her clients. But I would not cross her. She is very protective of her business.”
“But she is not very protective of the girls who work for her. I intend to come back here again and again. If you will but unhand me, I will return there now….”
Hal could think of only one way to stop her. He pulled her to him in the dark alley, pressed her body against his and kissed her. It wasn’t the sort of kiss a man gave a virgin. It was the type of kiss one gave a woman outside a brothel.
He’d never kissed a prostitute like this. He didn’t kiss them at all. He’d never even kissed one of his lovers this way, filled with passion, lust, anger and a protectiveness he hadn’t dreamt he possessed. Earlier, he’d been, perhaps, bemused to think of the lively Miss Sutton trying to sell prostitutes on the idea of a better life. But when he’d seen her ready to defy Madame Thurmond and her goons, he was filled with fear. Real fear. He couldn’t bear to think of what could happen to her. He’d seen Madame Thurmond’s bully boys beat a man to within an inch of his life. It had only been through his and Francis’s intercession that they hadn’t killed the man. He didn’t want to think of what they’d do to Melanie.
Especially when he had much better things to contemplate.
She’d been a bit surprised when his lips had taken hers, but she’d quickly adapted. As his tongue swept into her mouth, she shyly touched hers to his. But it didn’t take long for her to catch on and now they were both caught up in the passionate embrace.
She began to move against him, trying to get as close to him as she could. They were of a height that if she rose up on her toes, she could press the neediest part of her against his hard cock. From her indrawn breath as they made contact, it appeared the move had been instinctual, rather than planned. She pressed against him again and moved. He groaned out loud.
He moved his hand down to her arse to press her harder against him. He kissed her neck, nuzzling against her, smelling the rose water she’d used. He wanted to be as close to her as possible. He wanted to be inside her. He wanted to bury himself in her and feel her close around him. He’d take her up against the wall, driving into her with primal force. He’d escort her back to the carriage and let her impale herself as they sat. He wanted all of it. All of her. He wanted her with a fierceness that made it hard to breathe.
Which meant it was past time to stop.
Reluctantly – very reluctantly – he pulled back from her. Her arms were around his neck and her fingers were running through his hair. She was stronger than she looked and she apparently didn’t want to separate any more than he did. But, finally, as he gently increased the distance between them, it was as if she awoke from a dream. Her heavy lids slowly opened, then they widened to an almost comical degree.
“Oh!” she said.
“Indeed,�
� said Hal with a rueful grin. “I think, Miss Sutton, it is high time we proceeded to Mrs. Seton’s. We can continue our discussion about Madame Thurmond’s at some other time, if that is amenable to you.”
She’d recovered enough to shoot him a scathing glance, even as she smoothed her skirts. “I do not think there is much to discuss, but, yes, we should proceed to Mrs. Seton’s, Lord Henry.”
With that, she gave him her back and began to walk at a brisk pace toward the street where his carriage awaited. It was with immense satisfaction that Hal noticed she was just the slightest bit unsteady on her feet. However, he did not reach out to steady her as a gentleman should. Because he was fairly sure if he did so, his next move would be to haul her back into his arms to finish what they started.
And that would never do.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Melanie used the darkness of the carriage to try and compose herself. What had she been thinking to kiss the man in that alley? Especially when it was apparent that the rumors had been true and he was well known at Madame Thurmond’s establishment. And that probably wasn’t the only place he went to take his pleasure. For all she knew, the East End was filled with brothels frequented often by Lord Henry Kellington. Not to mention all the bedchambers in Mayfair, for her cousin Mary had heard many a rumor about Lord Henry’s reputation as a lover. As much as the matrons tried to keep such information away from their young daughters, it only made the girls that much more determined to learn it.
But none of that changed the fact that his kiss had been remarkable. Even better than the one in the Raleighs’ garden, which the lout hadn’t even remembered. It was patently unfair that a man like Hal – Lord Henry – could kiss in such a way that made a girl want to abandon propriety all together. She supposed that was the way he’d gained his reputation as a rake. Good rakes had to be talented when it came to passion, otherwise no one would engage in liaisons with them. Unless they were paid to do so, of course.
She glanced at him beneath her lashes, only to find his direct gaze on her. She quickly looked out the window and heard him snort softly because of it. Doubtless any other female of his acquaintance would be spending this time in the throes of passion with him. She would run her fingers through his hair and pull him closer to her. His hands would wander over her, brushing past her aching breasts. He’d pull her onto his lap and run his hands up her legs.
Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) Page 8