Page 41 of Temptations of a Wallflower
But Amina only continued to smile. “Don’t concern yourself. It’s a common enough error for newcomers. May I take your cloak?”
“No! I mean, I’d rather keep it.” Keeping the hood up provided Sarah with an extra measure of disguise, and a barrier between her and what she was about to witness.
Amina nodded, as if this was a perfectly ordinary thing to do. “This is your first time, yes?”
“It is,” Sarah admitted.
Amina’s smile widened. “Your first time costs nothing, but if you return, there is a fee. There’s nothing to fear here. We all abide by the same rules. There is to be no forced contact. All participation is optional. Those who wish to engage may do so, but if you prefer to simply watch, that is also perfectly acceptable. We’ve had men and women attend our salon many times who have done nothing more than drink negus before going home alone.”
Sarah exhaled in relief. “That’s good.”
“Please,” Amina said, gesturing toward the corridor behind her, “make yourself comfortable. If you’ve any questions, or if you object to anything you see here, find me.”
“I will,” Sarah vowed.
“You’re amongst friends here. Friends with an appreciation for the Lady of Dubious Quality.”
A thrill of excitement worked up Sarah’s spine to hear herself referenced. She almost blurted,That’s me!but managed to keep her silence. Trying for her best sophisticated nod, Sarah moved on from the foyer, drifting down the hallway toward the sounds of music, talk, and laughter. It seemed like any other party where one might meet friends and potential suitors.
What if Jeremy saw her here, like this? He wasn’t just a gentleman but a vicar. Morality was his chief concern. But she also wondered what it might be like to take him to a place like this. Would he appreciate her compulsion to come here, or would he condemn her choice? He was a man of the cloth, after all.
A doorway opened onto the corridor, and she looked into a large chamber. The candles burned low, and the room was full of masked guests. Some people wore deep jewel tones, others sported cloaks, and a few had on the kind of fancy dress one might have seen at a party thirty years ago. The scent of sweat and perfume pervaded the air—not unlike any other social gathering.
In fact, at first glance, it truly did resemble any number of assemblies she had attended over the years. Servers circulated amongst the guests with trays ofwine and cakes. Groups of men and women gathered here and there, chatting and laughing. Through a doorway that looked into another large room, Sarah observed couples dancing—a waltz, she noted. It was, initially, a little disappointing. Not nearly as scandalous as she’d feared and hoped.
But then . . . at further inspection . . . she saw that it was far from an ordinary party. Hands moved liberally over guests’ bodies. In corners and even standing in the middle of the room, men and women kissed boldly, openly, in front of everyone. On a sofa, a woman in white sat on the lap of a man in green, her fingers freely toying with the buttons fastening his breeches. Two women were locked in a passionate embrace, their hands and mouths all over each other, and three men in one corner were also kissing and fondling one another.
Sexuality saturated the whole chamber, soaking into her own body. Her pulse raced heavenward when she observed a man slide a woman’s bodice down to reveal her breasts. Sarah had never seen another woman’s bare breasts before, though she’d written about such scenes often enough. And in another corner, a woman was reaching down into a man’s trousers. She fumbled with the fastenings, the action not quite as smooth and effortless as Sarah expected. The woman was about to reveal the man’s cock. Here. In public.
Sarah glanced away. She wasn’t ready to get her first glimpse of an erect penis. Not quite yet.
No one was actually making love, but they were coming very, very close.
Grabbing a glass of wine, Sarah hurried into the next chamber, where the dancing took place. Here, too, moresensuality imbued the air as the dancers pressed their bodies close to one another’s and people kissed deeply right in the middle of the ballroom. She noted with a soupçon of thrilled alarm that a stage stood at one end of the room. With a bed on it. The bed was unoccupied—for the moment.
That’s where it was going to happen. The scenes from her books would take place right there. Before the eyes of the entire company.
My God.
She had truly entered into the realm of her books, where reality was fantasy, and fantasy was reality.
Terrifying—and wonderful.
After taking a healthy drink of wine, she continued to watch the dancers move through their paces. The waltz was performed at many assemblies and balls, but not quite as lasciviously as it was here, with the dancers holding each other so closely that there was no space between their bodies. Deeply sensual, this dance. The swaying rhythm, the isolation of each couple becoming their own spinning constellation of two.
She had only waltzed twice in her life. Both times had been lackluster and unremarkable—though she suspected that had more to do with her dull partners than the dance itself. The two men had moved without grace, escorting her across the floor with leaden steps.
Yet here, the carnal nature of the dance reached its apotheosis. Women wrapped their arms around their partners’ shoulders, pressing their breasts tightly against male chests. Men clasped women’s waists snugly, and sometimes their hands drifted even lower, cupping the women’s buttocks close so they were grointo groin. One couple didn’t even bother attempting to dance. They merely swayed together in place, stroking each other’s bodies, staring into each other’s eyes. Sarah was surprised the air around them didn’t vibrate with heat.
“A dance, my lady?”
Sarah nearly jumped when a man suddenly appeared beside her with the request. He stood half a head taller than her, nicely filling out his bronze coat, and he wore a matching bronze silk mask. His muscular thighs were encased in black breeches. His lips were voluptuous as he smiled invitingly at her, one large hand extended to escort her onto the ballroom floor.
He would be perfect for an assignation. Young, strapping. Already primed for seduction. All she had to do was take his hand and see where the night would lead.
“No, thank you,” she said instead.
“If you should change your mind . . .” He bowed and retreated back into the dimness of the room.
