“I brought you here because I heard you ask Paul if you might take a membership and I thought that it might be better to discuss such a thing woman to woman.”
Bernadette nodded slowly. “Very well.”
Annabelle leaned back in the chair and steepled her fingers. “Are you fully aware of what kind of club this is?”
“From the letter I found regarding my husband, I gleaned that it is some kind of place of pleasure. A bawdy house, perhaps? Or something like it?”
“Not exactly,” Annabelle said. “Our Society is so restricted. We are forced to conform to so many rules of behavior and desire that people need a place with more freedom. The Donville Masquerade provides that. People come here, my dear, for sex. They game like at other hells, and some of our entertainments are slightly more…wholesome. But the reason people pay for membership and come here rather than anywhere else is because they like to play. Do you understand what that means?”
“That term was in the letter I found,” Bernadette whispered. “I don’t know.”
Annabelle leaned forward. “In a few hours the club will open. And that big room we came through will fill up with men and women. And they will touch each other. Kiss and rub and sometimes—oh, I hate to use this word since you are a lady, but I want you to understand—fuck. They’ll do it in public, they’ll do it in the rooms in the back, they’ll watch others do it to become excited.”
Bernadette stared at her, slack jawed as those words sank in. “Oh,” she squeaked.
“Wedooffer membership to anyone who agrees to follow the rules and can pay the fee. However, I wouldn’t want you to waste your money if you thought this was just some regular gaming facility or a stuffy club like you’d find in other parts of London.”
And there it was. Like a fork in the road, Bernadette saw the path of her life diverge into two places. One went back to those stuffy clubs and charitable societies and empty halls of her empty house.
And the other went to a place where Annabelle had described remarkable, erotic, terrifying things. Things Bernadette hadn’t even begun to fully imagine when she declared she wanted a lover.
But if there were anyplace to find one…wouldn’t a place like this be it? She wouldn’t have to ask for Theo’s help anymore or face his rejection. She wouldn’t risk emotion with his kiss if he chose to ever bestow it again. She could find a lover, get the deed done, and know what it was like to be desired.
“I want a membership,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Annabelle’s eyebrows lifted as if she were surprised, but then she smiled. “As you wish.”
She opened a drawer in front of her and pulled out a ledger. Slowly, she thumbed through it, skimming names and notes scribbled in the margins in a tight, disciplined hand. Eventually she looked up at Bernadette.
“I’ve found your late husband’s membership information,” she said.
Bernadette blinked. “You intend to tell me something about him now?”
“No, I wanted to see how much he’d had left on his membership when he was…er…”
“Banned,” Bernadette said. “I know he was banned for a year for some incident.”
“Yes. Well, he had just paid for a five-year membership at the time of his removal,” Annabelle said. “When fees like that are forfeited, they go into a fund to support members in good standing who might need a little help, or for courtesans and lightskirts who come here looking for safety in performing their arts.”
Bernadette drew back. “I see.”
“However, I see no problem in allowing some of that fund to pass to you for a shorter membership to see if you’d like to continue.”
Bernadette blinked at that unexpected kindness. “Why would you do that?”
Annabelle’s mouth pinched a little. “I assume this man was as unkind to you as he might have been within these walls. Only you didn’t have the power to ban him as we did.”
Bernadette bent her head and pushed away thoughts of how needlessly and casually cruel her late husband could be. Just for fun. He’d never been physical, but he’d always made sure she knew how utterly unwanted she was.
“He would hate that I was here,” she said softly.
“Then all the more reason to do it.” Annabelle turned the ledger several pages and began to write. “This ledger is private—only Marcus and I, and Mr. Abbot, have access to it, so you will have no fear that you’d be exposed for membership by us.”
“Then how will anyone know I have a membership when I come to the door?” Bernadette asked.
“You will have a name you give at the door that will be on the list,” Annabelle explained. “Something you can remember and will answer to, but won’t be something most people know you by. Do you have an idea of what to call yourself?”
She cleared her throat. Only one name came to mind, and damn it all, but it made her think of the very man she was trying to forget as part of this. “Etta,” she whispered.
