One of the members, Lord Halliwell, swaggered up and clicked his heels together as he bowed. A broad smile was plastered across his face. “Mrs. Bonner. A treat, a real treat to see you down here. You so often hide your lovely self away from us.”
Colleen stifled a groan. With a smirk, Molly raised her glass in farewell and sauntered away. Colleen looked around for the serving girl. She could use a glass of that obscenely-priced champagne.
“Good evening, Lord Halliwell,” she said. Her shoulders sagged. The alcohol was on the other side of the room. “I hope you fare well.”
He shrugged and dipped his chin. “I did something quite naughty today. I was hoping to confess my sins.”
Colleen huffed out a sigh. “Lord Halliwell, I will tell you again that I only manage the premises. I am not available for …” Her mind whirled, searching for a polite form of speech that wouldn’t insult the paying member before her. “I’m not available for entertainment purposes.”
The earl slid his gaze up and down her body. Colleen didn’t quite understand what he was looking at. Unlike the scantily-clad doxies, Colleen’s high-necked shirt and mannish waistcoat hid her attributes. Of all the peacocks flitting about, she was the boring brown hen.
The earl leaned close. “Can I tell you a secret, Mrs. Bonner?” He didn’t wait for her response. “Something about you reminds me of my old nurse. She raised me to be the man I am today. If I ever misbehaved, she was there to correct my course.”
Colleen stepped back. “Flattering as that may be, I’m not available. I believe Molly is free, and I know how much she enjoys your company.” Colleen felt a slight qualm at the lie. But not enough to take it back. “Now if you will excuse me, I have to go, uh, check a room.”
The earl stood in front of her, so she turned around and disappeared down the hall with the play rooms. The thick carpet muffled her footfalls. She glanced over her shoulder, but the earl had disappeared. Probably to find a woman to correct his misbehavior.
A group of young bucks crowded the entrance of the hall, laughing and jostling each other, obviously deep in their cups. She could only hope they didn’t have similar nurse fancies.
She opened the door next to her and peered in. Only to pull it tight. A shudder ran through her body. No hiding in that room. One of the young men at the end of the hall playfully shoved a friend, and the group surged towards Colleen. She hustled to the next door and peeked within the chamber. Dark and empty. She darted inside and leaned her back against the wall. But the sight of what went on in the room next door lingered.
What was wrong with people? She’d been married for over eight years, and she’d seen more of the male anatomy in a night under this roof than in her entire marriage. Why they felt the need for the toys, the odd positions, the games, she didn’t know. Relations were meant to be under the cover of night, the man doing his business to procreate, and getting out. She didn’t think Mr. Bonner had ever seen her entire body all in one go. A leg here when he raised her gown. A shoulder there if it slipped down her arm. Their intercourse had been efficient, with a sole purpose in mind. As God intended.
Making her way to the nook where an oil lamp held the faintest of glows, she found the screw on the side of the lantern and lengthened the wick. The room brightened, and Colleen fisted her hands on her hips. Her workers hadn’t straightened the chamber after its last use. A web of ropes hung from the sturdy rafters instead of laying coiled neatly in their spot on the wall.
She trailed her fingers along the tails of hemp that hung like vines to the floor. Pieces of rope were knotted horizontally between the vertical lengths. The arrangement could almost be used as a net. She fingered the rope that hung at hip height. Or a swing.
Colleen glanced at the door. No one had reserved this room for the rest of the night, but that didn’t stop members from popping in. Gripping one of the ropes, she tugged. It seemed sturdy enough. She leaned her weight on it and held on with both hands. The hemp shifted against the rafter but didn’t slip.
With a sidelong look at the door, Colleen slid her torso through a rectangle created by the ropes. Raising up onto her toes, she pulled a length of hemp beneath her bottom. Her boots slid against the smooth wood floor, and she wrapped her arms around the ropes above her. Tentatively, she raised one foot from the ground. Then the other. Her body swung easily, and for a moment, she felt like a child again. One without a care in the world.
Bending her knees, she kicked her legs out and leaned into the swaying motion. The hemp creaked against the beam. Colleen floated, enjoying her moment of solitude. The club boasted plenty of rooms, and she could always find somewhere to be alone. That was the one thing about this place that she was going to miss.
She pointed her toes towards the ceiling and swung higher. Cool air slid beneath her skirt and petticoat as she flew through the air, causing a delicious shiver to dance up her spine. Her mind emptied. She forgot the sad state that her life had become, enjoying this moment of escape.
It didn’t last. The web shifted, and Colleen clutched the rope at her chest. The left side of the net dropped another inch, and Colleen yelped. She tried to wriggle from her seat, and one of her feet tangled in the hemp. Her grip on the ropes slipped, and she fell backwards, rope snapping tight against her thighs.
Colleen blinked. The floor was inches away from her face, and she swung in a lazy spiral above it. Wiggling her legs, she tried to slide free of her bonds. She grabbed a rope by her hip and heaved. She struggled until she was out of breath. It was no good. She was stuck.
The ropes gently swayed, creaking softly against the beams, and Colleen’s breaths slowed. Not her most graceful moment, but at least the ropes had saved her from knocking herself senseless on the hard wood floor. She tugged again at her trapped leg, but three ropes had seemed to loop themselves around it. She shimmied her hips. The rope at her bum slipped, and she dropped an inch. Her skirts crept up her legs. She wiggled some more but achieved nothing but louder creaking from the beam above.
The scrape of hemp against wood couldn’t hide another sound. One far worse. That of the door opening.
Pushing at the hair that had fallen around her face, Colleen tried to see who the intruder was. She rather hoped it was a member. There was no way she would improve her position of authority over her workers if one of them caught her like this.
“Hallo? Who’s there?” With one hand pressed to the floor, she pushed her skirts back over her knees.
A pair of black top boots edged into view, a smudge of soil dirtying one of the toes. Colleen levered her head. Wool trousers disappeared into the wheat-colored leather bands that ringed the top of the boots. Her gaze rose over broad thighs to the bottom of the trousers’ falls. And the bulge behind. Try as she might, she couldn’t crane her head to look higher than that bulge.
The man dropped into a squat, a bushy black beard replacing her view.
Colleen closed her eyes and dropped her head to the floor. She wished it had been a worker.
“This is a splendid way to greet a man,” said Maximillian Atwood, Baron of Sutton. He rubbed his jaw, his fingers disappearing into the beard that looked as soft as a beaver’s pelt. “Like a fly trapped in a spider’s web. I wonder who the lucky man was who was supposed to eat you.”
Chapter Two
Max bit back a laugh. He couldn’t help but draw one of the ropes forward and release it, making his lovely manager swing softly to and fro. Her skirts slipped past her knee, exposing the edge of her stockings and a thin slice of creamy skin. His mirth turned to something else.
