2
EMMA
He hissed the last words as if I was the one who'd been involved in those base s****l acts instead of him. I was being accused of indecent proclivities? He was the one who had careless disregard for his wife!
"Voyeurism? I wouldn't have watched if I'd known. It was the kitchen mid-morning. Thomas, I'd never–"
He sliced a hand through the air, cutting off my words. "It is irrelevant anyway. Having you about is not a risk I can take with my career. One utterance of impropriety and my chances for Washington are dashed."
"Men have mistresses, Thomas. It would come as no surprise," I countered. "Surely, Mary must know."
He laughed coldly. "Mary? I'm not worried about my wife and what she thinks. She would not speak ill of me. I am within my rights to ensure that."
I cringed at the thought of how he ensured her silence. Mary was a meek woman and I was coming to discover why. Mary had no grounds to protest or complain about a husband's peccadillo. A wife was completely at the mercy of her husband.
"Surely you're worried that Allen or Clara would tell tales as well." I wasn't the only one who could reveal his extramarital tendencies.
Thomas rolled his eyes. "Please, Clara was easily dispensable and Allen knows his place. He's just as driven as I am to be in Washington."
I could only imagine how he'd dispensed of Clara if turning me over to Mrs. Pratt was how he dealt with a member of his own family. I began to wring my hands. Thomas seemed as serious about this as everything else, removing any problem or impediment from his way with ruthless precision. It appeared he was taking care of me in just such a fashion.
I did not have to stay here and listen to him. I walked toward the door to leave, but he held up a hand. "You have no money, no connections. Only the clothes upon your back."
I shook my head in doubt. "This is insanity, Thomas!" I waved my hands in the air, frustrated. "I have friends, a sister-in-law, neighbors! I have Father's money! I can just walk out that door and see someone on the street I know and they will help me."
"Besides your lack of money, we're not in Helena."
My arms fell to my side. My stomach plummeted. "What? You can't. I'm of age."
"True, but your father's will stated I maintained control until you reach the age of twenty-five or upon your marriage. Since you have yet to wed, I can do what I wish with the money."
"You've turned all my suitors away!" I cried out, realizing right then and there his master plan. "You've planned this all."
He smiled, albeit coldly. "We are in Simms, in Mrs. Pratt's establishment. If you walk out that door, you will be on the streets of a strange town with no one to vouch for you, with no alternative but to return to her to survive. Besides, I doubt she would let you leave. Isn't that right, Mrs. Pratt?" He didn't wait for the woman to answer. "She has paid me a tidy sum for you and I have no doubt you will need to earn your keep on your back." He sniffed. "The way you seemed to enjoy Clara's s****l awakening, I trust this will be a perfect fit for you." He eyed me from head to toe, then turned his attention to Mrs. Pratt. "Thank you for your business."
"Mr. James," she replied with a small head nod, holding the door open for him. She was going to let him go?
Thomas left, his void as big as the emptiness of my emotions. I'd been sold to a brothel! The very idea was ludicrous, unimaginable, yet here I was. Tears filled my eyes.
"It's not all that bad, Miss James. You're no longer under that odious man's thumb." She pursed her lips as she shut the door behind him. It was as if life as I'd known it had ended, the door closed on it, a new one beginning. That was what was most fearful. What did my new life entail? Would I have to service men like Clara had Allen, or would I have to suffer beneath the cruel hands of a man such as Thomas? This was insanity!
I wiped frantically at my wet cheeks. "Little consolation," I replied, looking down at the decadent Oriental rug. "The alternative, the way Thomas painted it, is not appealing either."
"That man, your step-brother, sold you to me." She pointed toward the closed door. "He is not a man worthy of our attentions. I say good riddance." Her soft voice held a note of iron as she waved her hand through the air with finality.
"Then why did you accept his business? Why did you buy me?"
Her skirts swished as she crossed the room. "To make money, of course. Yet I have a soft spot for women whose lives have become endangered. Trust me, you are better off here with me than to linger another night beneath that man's roof."
I tilted up my chin, not as confident in my situation as she. "I suspect it is dependent on what you wish to do with me."
"You are a virgin," she stated.
I blushed furiously, my cheeks hot.
"Yes, I can see by your reaction to that word alone that you are," she replied, going over to her desk, sitting down at the chair beside it. Her back was straight and she adjusted her full skirts. She might be a Madame, but she had the mannerisms of a lady.
I looked down at the pale blue morning dress I'd donned just this morning. I thought back, realizing Thomas must have laced my coffee with the laudanum. I took it black, so the bitter taste would have been well masked. The last I remember was eating a piece of toast with marmalade in the dining room.
"I suppose virginity is quite a commodity in your line of work. You are a Madame, are you not?" I countered, wanting to confirm her profession. I doubted she arranged for governesses.
She nodded once. "I am. Unlike your Mr. James, I offer you two choices."
I arched a brow as I waited to hear them. My options, which I doubted were going to be to my liking, might be better heard sitting down, so I returned to the end of the velvet covered chaise on which I awoke.
"You may work here to pay off your debt. As you are innocent, you will be quite popular, I assure you. You are also quite lovely, which will make your long-term appeal guaranteed. This is the finest brothel between Kansas City and San Francisco and we cater to more unusual requests. The other girls will teach you all that you need to know above and beyond basic f*****g with regards to meeting the men's needs."
My mouth fell open at her base language, but I supposed it was relevant to her profession and part of her everyday conversation.
I glanced down at my hands in my lap trying to collect my thoughts. A dull throb filled my head, the lingering after effects of Thomas's deviousness, it made clear thinking difficult. "And...the other choice?"
"You can pay off your debt in one evening. Tonight, in fact."
This sounded appealing, but I knew there would be a high personal price. She might be selling carnal pleasures, but this was all business.
"Oh?" I queried, very nervous about what she would say.
"A marriage auction."
I paused and stared at Mrs. Pratt. Did she say marriage and auction together? As in I would be auctioned off to a potential groom?
"I beg your pardon?" I replied, confused.
Mrs. Pratt smiled softly. "I know of several men who are seeking a wife who can handle their more intense s****l natures and dominant personalities."
I frowned. I most certainly couldn't meet those requirements. "As you've said yourself, I am a virgin. I don't know anything about...intense s****l natures."
"Good." She gave a decisive head nod. "I didn't say you needed to know anything about that, but that you could handle it."
I frowned. "There's a difference?"
"Vastly." I waited for her to clarify, but she remained silent.
"How are you so sure I can handle these...expectations?"
"From what Mr. James mentioned, you were aroused by the sight of a woman being f****d. Is this an accurate statement?"
I tried my best not to squirm. To admit I'd been aroused by witnessing Clara's pleasure would mean I was just like any of Mrs. Pratt's girls. It meant I truly was a voyeur, a w***e even. Perhaps I did belong in a brothel.
"Well?" Mrs. Pratt asked.
"The woman was pleasured by both men. I had no idea such things were possible."
Her eyes widened slightly. "There were two men then? And you were aroused as you watched this? Interesting." When I remained silent, afraid to let any more secrets slip, she continued. "So you were aroused?" She'd twisted my words around to fit her needs. "Come, Miss James, there's no need to fear speaking your feelings with me. I am a Madame. I've seen and heard it all. Nothing you, a virgin, could admit would shock me."
I couldn't voice the words, but nodded.
"Did you like watching?"
I nodded again. "I liked seeing the first man and the woman. I could have done without watching my stepbrother engaged in such activities."
"Wished it had been you that was being f****d?"
I met her clear gaze. Held it. "Yes," I whispered.
She stood, the satin sheen of her dress catching the light. "What choice do you make? Work here or marry the highest bidder?" Her blue eyes watched me. Waited.
Her words made my life seem so negligible, as if the choice were easy. I'd only woken up to this situation only minutes ago, my head still pounded from the after effects. I was now to choose my fate? "I will not marry myself to a man such as Thomas." I clenched my hands in my lap. "A multitude of men using my body is nothing in comparison to a lifetime of dishonesty, indifference and infidelity. It would be a prison without any means of escape. You met him. To suggest a permanent arrangement with the likes of him would make you of the same ilk."
A hint of emotion shown in the woman's eye. Admiration? Surprise? I couldn't be sure. "I would never marry a woman to a man who was anything but generous and caring. I am stringent in the men to whom I serve, yet protective of the women I provide. Remember, being dominant in the bedroom is quite the opposite of being cruel."
I didn't know what she meant by the last. "Why marriage? Why not just sell my virginity?"
"You would gain nothing after the first man breaching your maidenhead. You would be tarnished and your value would be that of every other girl in my employ. You would then be unmarriageable and your fate sealed. Marriage will maintain your respectability. I don't stand for men who only take from women and give nothing in return. Or you may remain here and work to earn your keep."
I had no interest in becoming a prostitute, the idea made me want to vomit, but I could only accept the woman's reassurance that I would not be shackled to a man such as Thomas on blind faith. Her oddly placed values – the need to marry me off to make money all the while maintaining my virtue – was an odd twist on my scenario and painted her in a slightly different light.
"I can imagine the life of a wife readily enough. Perhaps you can describe my other choice."
Her lip quirked up at my request. "Most girls work from six at night until six in the morning, servicing as many as twenty men. You'll soon discover your best skills and be known for them. At first, of course, it will be your innocence, but once that fades, you'll have to decide." She shrugged negligently. "Some go for straight f*****g, others are known for their c**k sucking. A few enjoy being f****d in the ass. Then there's being tied up, role playing, ménage, the list is quite long really."
I held up my hand, not able to keep up with her long list of services. In fact, I was still considering twenty men a night. Clearly, she was forcing my hand toward marriage. That, most likely, was her intention all along, allowing me to believe I had a choice. Licking my lips, I asked the relevant question. "How much money did you pay Thomas for me?"
"Seven hundred dollars."
My brows went up. That amount of money was a drop in the bucket for the James family and I could have paid her readily enough after a quick trip to the bank, although not any longer.
"At less than a dollar a roll, that would be hundreds of men. You'll most assuredly be here for a lengthy duration. After that...." She shrugged her shoulders and let what she didn't say speak for itself. "Or you could be gone tonight."
I pursed my lips. She, in a perverse and roundabout sort of way, was helping me. She couldn't just let me leave; too much money was at stake. Marriage helped me while she helped herself. There really wasn't much choice. The groom himself wasn't a choice either. It seemed Mrs. Pratt would decide that, or at least narrow the choices to a small cadre of eligible men who had the means to offer her the money she wanted. Based on her profession and business sense, their initial requirements included baser s****l needs and wealth. "You can guarantee the man I marry is not a drunk, geriatric or a beater?"
Her blue eyes met mine. "I can."
"I'll...um...I'll take the marriage auction."
"A wise choice." She moved and opened the door. "As I said, these men want you to fulfill very distinct, very clear needs. Being dominant is not akin to being cruel. Remembering that will serve you well."