Sephy glided across the room and took a seat in the upholstered chair in the middle, which had been held for the guest of honor. Candles lit up the expanse, gleaming off the marble floor and adding a decadent glow as fragrant blossoms of varying flowers in tall vases made a lavish display. It was an extravagance that her mother had gladly spared, for the cost of Sephy’s purity would exceed even the smallest bit of luxury this evening. After tonight, her mother would likely be set for years to come.
She tamped down her nerves and began to greet her loyal subjects. Men of varying ages, social status, and wealth, wearing excessive breeches and stockings came forward to bow over her hand and offer their most humble addresses. By the time the line had finished, her head was spinning from all the compliments and lewd stares that promised an evening filled with debauchery.
As usual, her mother was eager to extol her daughter’s outstanding qualities, flitting about the room, her laugh carrying over the expanse. Finally, she nodded toward one of the men from a fellow Molly house who had offered their services as the eunuch of ceremonies.
In grand flourish, the dark-skinned man stood in the middle of the room in his silver brocade attire and clapped his hands together to gain everyone’s attention. “Thank you all for coming this evening as we celebrate our own Queen of the Underworld and her journey to Paradise with one lucky gentleman. But who will be crowned her Hades?”
As laughter swept about the room, Sephy put a hand to her stomach where the butterflies were starting to flutter their wings once more.
“There isn’t nufin’ t’ losin’ yer maidenhead.” One of the girls bent down from behind Sephy and whispered in her ear. “There’s just a pinch an’ then it’s over. After tha’, it’s nufin’ but good times.”
“Thank you, Jade.”
Sephy had always liked the dark-haired girl. She was one of her mother’s best doxies, even though she was the only one who spoke with a cockney accent. Her mother might be a bawd, but she had saved the girl from a worse fate than she might have experienced living down by the docks. At least in her mother’s house she was fed and clothed and surrounded by opulence with the chance to earn extra coin. There was no threat of harm in this house for her mother’s lackey, Abraham, dealt with anyone that got out of place.
“Shall we start the bidding at fifty pounds for this goddess of delight?”
Sephy snapped back to attention when she saw the hands begin to lift in offering. Her mother continued her observation, whispering a few words in one gentleman’s ear or another, causing the price to continually rise.
It wasn’t until she saw one particular man distance himself from the rest that she felt a fission of fear crawl up her spine. He held himself as regally as the king, his powdered wig firmly in place, and yet, there was a cruel set to his lips that was unmistakable. But then, most of the ladies’ knew of Lord Alabaster Gregory’s perversions. He might have been a gentleman as the younger son of a marquess, but the deviant acts that he requested behind closed doors were legendary among all the bawdy houses.
“Two hundred pounds.” His firm, commanding voice rippled through the crowd.
“Bloody ‘ell.” Jade muttered from behind her.
Sephy glanced to her mother for assistance. Surely she wouldn’t have to face Lord Gregory on her first night as a woman? The horrors she could only imagine he might request caused the bile to rise in her throat. She knew she would likely have to service him at some point, but she just didn’t think it would be so soon.
She watched as her mother approached him and murmured something in his ear, but he brushed her off like an annoying insect, his lewd gaze wholly focused on Sephy.
Sephy glanced around for assistance, praying that someone else would outbid the lord, but too many men shook their head, leaving her to her fate.
“Going once, going twice…”
Sephy held her breath.
“Five hundred pounds.”
Everyone turned to look at the tall man who had recently entered the fray. Sephy didn’t recall meeting him before, for she would have remembered such a handsome visage. He was quite remarkable with his dark hair, free of a wig or a single bit of powder, and his fathomless piercing eyes. He wore brown breeches and a gold jacket and waistcoat and was currently staring down Lord Gregory as if this had nothing at all to do with Sephy, but was a personal vendetta against the man himself.
With a hate filled glare toward the newcomer, Lord Gregory said nothing, but turned on his heel and departed.
Instantly, Sephy’s mother strode forward and greeted the bidder. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” she purred.
The man’s focus reluctantly shifted to her. “Hunter Bennett, the Duke of Falcourt.”
Phryne put a hand to her neck, his title obviously exciting her. While Sephy’s mother entertained many members of the aristocracy, it wasn’t often that someone as exalted as a duke walked through her door, nor one that was a known Royal bastard who had been recognized by the king. “You honor us with your presence, Your Grace.” She waved a hand toward Sephy. “Your prize awaits.”
As his gaze met hers, a shiver coursed through her, but it was vastly different than what she’d felt toward Lord Gregory.
She rose to her feet and approached him. He followed her movements, but said nothing as she paused before him with a curtsy. “Your Grace. I am yours.”
***
Hunter had no need of a doxie, even one so lovely as this one. His sole mission was to ensure that he dogged Lord Gregory’s every step. Considering what the animal had done to his sister, he vowed he would find the proof that would send him to the gallows if it was the last thing he accomplished on this earth.
