Tales of the Odalisque

by Josie Litton

  Which made the necessity of discovering Miss Bollinger’s true intentions all the more urgent.

  He was about to pick up the phone when a knock on his office door stopped him. Generally, he was accessible to all members of his staff. But when that door was closed, they knew better than to interrupt him with anything less than the most serious matters.

  Having called permission to enter, he settled behind his desk and fought to clear his head. Whatever he was about to face, he had to deal with it quickly.

  “Your pardon, sir,” Horace said as he stepped into the office. The grizzled, white-haired chief custodian of the Odalisque knew every inch of the centuries-old landmark building and looked after it as a mother would her child. Calm and unflappable by nature, the strongest emotional reaction anyone had ever seen him produce was a slight frown.

  He was frowning now.

  “What’s wrong?” Lucius inquired.

  “I can explain it or you can come with me and I can show it to you. I think the second might be better seeing as it’s right peculiar.”

  Lucius hesitated but only for a moment. He gave his employees considerable latitude because they earned it. If Horace said his attention was needed, Lucius could not doubt him.

  “Very well, show me.”

  They went up the narrow back staircase to the roof. Opening the door at the top, Horace said, “One of the lads was up here cleaning out the chimney filter when he noticed it.”

  Silently, he pointed at the break in the masonry ledge that ran around the perimeter of the roof. A section a foot in width was missing. Only a few crumbled fragments remained.

  “That’s good Dorset limestone,” Horace said. His tone made it clear that he was personally offended by what had happened to it. “You can’t do better. No way it came apart on its own.”

  “Could something have hit it, perhaps from an adjacent building?”

  “That’s what I wondered so I sent the lad down into the alley right below and told him to take a good look around. There was nothing to be seen or so it appeared at first. But he’s a bright one and he didn’t give up.”

  With a nod to the side, Horace said, “There’s what he found in a rubbish bin right around the corner.”

  A coil of rope, a grappling hook and-- “Are those gloves?” Lucius asked.

  “They are, sir, climber’s gloves and small. We’re either looking for a little man or a boy, the type known among the criminal class for doing second story work.”

  Grimly, Lucius said, “Or a female.”

  Horace looked taken aback. Despite his occupation--or more particularly where he pursued it--he cherished an exalted view of womankind. Reluctantly, he said, “I suppose that could be.”

  “The door to the roof is locked on the outside, isn’t it?”

  “Aye, it is.”

  Climbing and lock picking. Miss Bollinger was brimming over with talents. She’d gotten a bruise for her efforts, not to mention a caning. But she must believe that she was in the clear, free to try again.

  “Thank you, Horace. Hold on to what you found except the gloves, I’ll take those. Don’t speak of this to anyone else.”

  “Of course, sir, as you say. We’ll have it fixed proper within a day or two.”

  Lucius was glad to hear it even as he regretted that his own problem was unlikely to be solved as quickly.

  In the interest of speeding that resolution along, he returned to his office and placed a call to a private line, the number of which was available to very few. Lord Adrian Burleigh, recently named Minister for Crown Security, answered almost at once.

  “Lucius, what an unexpected pleasure. How are you?”

  “Well enough but of far greater interest, how is Jane?”

  The man who had been one of England’s--if not the world’s--greatest rakes chuckled warmly. “She’s blooming. I’m a nervous wreck, of course. Four more months to go. They’ll have to prop me up in the delivery room.”

  “Nonsense, you’ll handle it all with your usual aplomb.”

  “Oh, I doubt that but I have Jane to guide me so I won’t make too great a mess of it.”

  Until the previous year, Lucius would have sworn that he had long since lost the ability to be surprised by anything. But then his friend, the man he had feared was being driven by dark emotions in an ever more destructive direction, had met, fallen in love with and promptly married a truly remarkable young woman. That all this had occurred under circumstances not to be discussed in polite company was of no concern. Having made her acquaintance, Lucius had concluded that Lady Jane Burleigh was a genuine Original, one of a kind. He was happy for his friend, of course, but he neither wished for nor regretted the absence of any such female in his own life. He simply had never considered that possibility at all.

  The two men chatted a little longer, in the course making arrangements to meet later for a drink at White’s, the club to which they both belonged.

  “The Prime Minister will be there this evening,” Adrian said. “I know he wants an opportunity to thank you for that business in Madagascar.”

  “It was nothing,” Lucius said modestly. “I was glad to be of service.”

  “Even so, you saved us quite a bit of trouble. Not for the first time or I dare say, the last. You know that if I can ever return the favor…”

  “As it happens, I could use your assistance in a small matter.”

  Briefly, he described the arrival of Miss Natalia Bollinger, her still unexplained surveillance of his property over the past week, her entry into the abbey and the results of the background check on her to date, concluding with the matter of the damage to the roof and the evidence of her own culpability in causing it.

  When he finished, Adrian said, “You think she’s looking for a way into the Odalisque?”

  “I’m certain that she is. What I’d like to know is why. What is she after?”

  “A female cat burglar,” Adrian remarked, clearly taken with the daring episode of the roof. “I take it she’s beautiful?”

  “Extraordinarily so.”

  “And an actual virgin?”

  “Remarkably enough.”

  “All that must qualify her as genuinely unique. She shouldn’t be difficult to identify.”

  Lucius could only hope that his friend was right. Long after their conversation had ended, he remained sequestered in his office, lost in contemplation of how Miss Bollinger herself might be persuaded to yield up the information he sought. And how very much he would enjoy bringing about her surrender.

  Chapter Five

  “Here now, lass,” Kathleen said, “have a wee bit of this delicious vanilla custard. It’ll make you feel better.”

  She was one of the virgins, from a village outside of Dublin, and Natalia was grateful for her kindness. They were all kind, she realized, the eight young women gathered at the abbey to prepare for the event that promised to transform their lives. To her great relief, none of them appeared to be in the least naïve or ignorant. On the contrary, she was struck by their good sense as much as by their efforts to console her.

  “You’ve had a time of it,” Daphne chimed in. Petite and blond with a dimpled smile, she reminded Natalia of a doll until she opened her mouth. Then she was a bold young woman who took no nonsense from anyone. “Sweet lord, could you believe it when Luscious strolled in? I about wet myself. That man shouldn’t be allowed on the loose.”

  Beside her, Clara laughed. American from Boston with her eye on running her own catering business, she grinned broadly. “He should be caged up somewhere and kept for the delectation of appreciative females.”

  “Oh, me, me!” Lei Su giggled. She was from Shanghai originally and so beautiful that Natalia thought it almost hurt to look at her.

  The others all laughed. Talk flew fast and furious about the illustrious Mister Belmont, most of it blatantly bawdy but with an undercurrent of affection and respect that bewildered Natalia. The man was going to sell their collective virginities and no doubt ma
ke a pretty penny in the process. Why then did they think so highly of him?

  When she ventured to ask, Clara said matter-of-factly, “His commission is twenty percent. That includes all the expense of having us here, getting us ready, staging the auction and so on. I looked into two other virgin auctions and backed off in a hurry. Sixty percent they wanted with the money coming from a clientele that I wouldn’t go anywhere near.”

  “He sounds like a prince,” Natalia muttered. Naomi had certainly thought so but then what had her poor, wayward sister known? A man who sold women--for any reason, in any form--was surely beneath contempt.

  Although to be fair, there had always been a sex industry and it mostly involved the hideous exploitation of vulnerable women and men alike. If Lucius Belmont actually deserved the respect that the virgins showed him--when they weren’t speculating on the size of his cock--then she…

  She wasn’t going to think about that. He was her only remaining hope of discovering what had happened to Naomi. Apart from him, the trail was cold. If she failed at the Odalisque, she could not bear to think what she would do next. Of one thing only was she certain; giving up would never be an option.

  “Eat up,” Kathleen urged. “You’ll want to sleep on your tummy tonight but the Abbess sent up a dose of paracetamol to see you through.”

  Brigid had already insisted on rubbing an analgesic cream over the offended area before she’d said her goodnights. Still, Natalia had scant hope of sleeping. She was never able to in a new place and besides, she had a great deal on her mind starting with and circling right back to the endlessly fascinating subject of the man who had made it a point to witness her humiliation.

  “You’ll need your rest,” Daphne said brightly. “They’ll start testing you tomorrow.”

  Natalia’s eyes widened. She couldn’t have heard her correctly. On a note of alarm, she said, “Haven’t I been tested enough already?”

  Daphne giggled. “Psychological testing, silly. No one is allowed into one of the auctions without Mister Belmont being certain that you’re of sound mind, not under any sort of coercion, able to make rational decisions and so on.”

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” Kathleen soothed. “You’ll do fine. Before you know it, you’ll be joining us in the classroom.”

  All the young women laughed at that. Natalia got the distinct impression that whatever Brigid had been hinting went on there, it was more than she should want to know. And yet how drawn she was to do so.

  Trying not to think of that in the context of Luscious Lucius, she finished the custard and lay back on her bed. Stretched out on her stomach of necessity, with her head resting on her folded arms, she listened to the soft rustle of sounds around her as the last of the summer’s twilight faded away into velvety darkness. Sleep took her so gently that she was hardly aware of it. Only occasionally did she rouse, drawn by the teasing whisper of lapping tongues, sucking mouths, sighs and gasps. Once, she woke just enough to see the arch of a body, rising in ecstasy and felt a stab of envy unlike any she had ever known. Drifting into sleep again, she dreamed of Lucius and stirred the drowsing virgins with her own soft cries.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  “Congratulations, Miss Bollinger,” the abbess said. “You are now a full-fledged novice.”

  Natalia allowed herself an inward sigh of reprieve. The two days of testing and the following day of worrying about the results had left her limp. As careful as she had been in her responses--without being too careful which would itself have been a sign that something was wrong--she had worried that she would be unmasked. What a relief to know that she had managed to pull off the role of the Sensible Virgin in spanking good order, so to speak.

  An hour later, garbed in white, she brought up the end of the line as the novices processed single file into the classroom. Cool, sensuous silk rubbed against her nipples, making her acutely aware of how sensitive they had become. A white snood held her hair while the face-obscuring bonnet she wore with it extended also had the effect of limiting her vision. She had the sense of being at once teased and restrained.

  The classroom itself was a wide, sun-filled room one level above the street. A dozen desks were arrayed in rows of three facing the blackboard to the front. The walls were hung with a variety of artworks. On a nearby table, anatomical models were set out.

  A young woman greeted them. She was simply dressed in a black skirt and white blouse. Her dark hair was neatly arranged in a bun at the back of her head. She had a pretty, lively face with vivid hazel eyes. Natalia thought she looked rather like the teacher whom all the girls at an elite boarding school would adore. This was speculation, of course, as Natalia herself had never set foot in such a school despite records that said she had.

  Smiling, the young woman introduced herself. “You must be my new student. Welcome. I am Miss Sheridan, your instructor.”

  Turning to the other novices, she said, “Ladies, I will ask you to work on your own this morning while I assist Miss Bollinger. Kindly review the tantric positions must effective in releasing the sexual energy of the male’s root chakra. Be prepared to describe and discuss the unique characteristics and benefits of each. There will be a quiz this afternoon.”

  Satisfied that the rest of her charges would be gainfully occupied, the instructress led Natalia to a table near the front of the room.

  “You have a bit of catching up to do, Miss Bollinger. But I am informed that you are of above-average intelligence with an inquiring mind and excellent focus. I have no doubt that you will do well.”

  Staring at an extremely detailed three-dimensional model of the male sexual organs that the instructress had set matter-of-factly in the center of the table, Natalia gulped. “I will certainly try, ma’am.”

  “Excellent. Then let us begin.”

  By the time they broke for the mid-day meal, Natalia had a vastly greater knowledge of the physical process of male arousal and release than she had ever imagined possible. Although truth be told, she hadn’t really given much, if any thought to the subject in the past.

  Apparently, there were any number of impediments to the achievement of an erection and more still to the satisfactory conclusion of release. So many in fact that she began to think it was a wonder that men managed to engage in sexual activity at all. Miss Sheridan was a font of helpful information about how to work around those difficulties, as well as offering suggestions for extending arousal, heightening release, and so on.

  Natalia’s head was swimming by the time she joined the other novices in the garden for an al fresco lunch. The fresh air, delicious food and pleasant conversation went a long way toward improving her mood.

  Her afternoon was given over to the basics of various sexual techniques and positions as well as an overview of what Miss Sheridan referred to discreetly as “personal predilections”, otherwise known as “kinks”. Several of these Natalia simply refused to believe could be real.

  By the time the day was winding down, she longed for nothing so much as a cold shower, the comfort of her bed and a good book--one that had nothing whatsoever to do with sex or even for that matter men.

  Unfortunately, such was the rigor of the abbey’s study regimen that her wish was not to be granted.

  Chapter Six

  Lucius shook hands with his MMA coach, nodded to the opponent he had just defeated--the fourth of the day--and headed for the locker room. Half-an-hour later, he emerged freshly showered and shaved, and having shed his sweats for a three-piece charcoal gray suit perfectly tailored to his powerful frame.

  The intense, one might even say brutal workout had released at least some of the stress of the past few days--and nights--all of which he laid at Miss Natalia Bollinger’s door. Despite his best efforts, she remained an enigma. Arabella reported that she was diligent in her studies but was clearly possessed of an innocence that went far beyond the intactness of her hymen. Try though she did to conceal her inexperience, her blushes, reluctant fascination and sometimes downright disbel
ief made it more than evident.

  How, he wondered grimly, could any young woman, let alone one possessed of such incandescent beauty, be so thoroughly unawakened in this day and age? Had she been living in a cave? Up a tree? Or with the fairies, perhaps?

  Shaking his head at his own thoughts, he stepped out onto the street and signaled his driver. Ordinarily, he enjoyed the run to and from the gym across Hyde Park. But he had already taken more personal time than was usual for him and the demands of business would not wait forever.

  London traffic being what it was, the car took almost as long to traverse the distance back to the Odalisque as Lucius would have on foot. But the ride gave him the opportunity to review various financial reports on his holdings in preparation for a meeting with his broker later in the week. Satisfied that all was at it should be, he was about to delve into a proposal for yet another branch of the club--this one in Santiago, Chile--when the phone hard-wired into the car and protected by a scrambler device rang.

  “Is this a bad time?” Adrian asked.

  Lucius did have a mobile and a small number of similarly serious minded men had the number for it. But it was used, as were their own, solely for the most innocuous conversations. Apparently, this was not to be one of those.

  With a spurt of anticipation that he was finally going to learn the truth about the enticing minx who plagued his thoughts waking and sleeping, he said, “Not at all. I’ve just left the gym.”

  “So your office said when I rang there. I would have gotten back to you sooner but Miss Bollinger has been devilishly hard to run down. On the surface--and for a good many layers below that--she seems to be exactly who she says she is. My people actually found grade school records that appear to be hers.”

  Brushing aside whatever regret he felt that his suspicions had been confirmed, Lucius asked, “How do you know they’re not?”