Page 45 of Cora
“Cora.”
Mrs. Wentworth’s tone snapped like a military command. She froze.
“It was not Gideon who set you up for failure that night.”
Cora could not stand this woman. Her willful blindness. Her love for her family was commendable, but it caused her to be cruel to everyone she considered to be an outsider. Marriage was not enough to bring Cora into this woman’s inner circle. Nothing she could do would ever make her good enough to earn Mrs. Wentworth’s regard.
“If you will excuse me.”
She jammed her hat onto her head and swept out into the cold sleet with a none-too-pleased Titi cowering from the weather in her travel basket. But they did not go to Honey’s. Instead, Cora had the driver drop her near Honey’s front door, and as soon as he was out of sight, she quickly crossed the street and went around back to the secret entrance to 9 Dove Street.
It was past time she learned how to play billiards well enough to beat Gideon, and finally get answers about that night.
Because as wonderful as last night with him had been, as long as he was hiding the truth from her, any growing affection between them was built on sand.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
CORA
At the end of the alleyway two rapscallions had tried to dissuade her from entering, Cora encountered an iron door heavily fortified with bolts. In the center of the door was a cutout covered with iron. She knocked. The cutout opened and two startled eyes belonging to one blond-haired dominatrix stared at her.
“Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Tulip said. Metal scraped. The huge door opened and Cora was admitted into a dimly lit space with a hard flagstone floor, rather menacing sconces mounted to the wall and…were those chains?
“I don’t mean to be rude, but what is this place?”
Tulip smiled.
“This is my dungeon,” Tulip said grandly. A dark look passed over her features. “Or it was mine, until Daisy showed up. Shall I show you the ropes, so to speak?”
“Please. I’ve never seen a dungeon before.”
On her last visit, the Flowers had only shown her the tamer parts of the brothel. Cora’s mother was an antiquarian, the rare female scholar who studied ancient artifacts to learn more about how people had lived. That was how she had met the late Duke of Gryphon, who collected such rarities. Cora tried to take her mother’s approach to observing minute details from an emotional distance as Tulip explained the purpose of each type of whipping device, from slim birch branches to ordinary riding crops to an intimidating-looking nine-tailed leather whip.
“This one is mostly for show,” Tulip explained. “The point isn’t to hurt anyone. A switch to the backside is something most of our aristocratic clients experienced at school. Some of them learned to relish it. No one is going to suffer lasting injury from a reddened bottom, but striking the kidneys, for example, could cause great harm. Knowing when and how to use these tools is the key to unlocking pleasure from pain.”
The chains were another prop used for a few specific clients, not ordinary visitors, as Tulip called the men who came to the House of Vice.
“My regulars trust me enough to be vulnerable. These are men who are in high levels of Society. Undoubtedly, you have met some of them.”
“Unlikely. I don’t really go out.”
“Your brother Eryx was?—”
“Stop right there.” Cora raised both palms and averted her eyes. “I don’t want to know, or need to know, what my brother or Annalise did or do here. That is not my business. This is only a—a learning experience for me,” she finished after searching for the right words.
“Apologies. We are accustomed to speaking openly.” Tulip smiled gently. “The point being, these gentlemen come to me because they know I will never mock their deepest needs or desires. They come to me for sex, yes, but more than that, they come to me because they don’t have to hide their true selves.”
This, Cora mused, was what she and Gideon were still missing. She didn’t quite trust him enough to be her true self with him yet. They were getting there—making progress faster than she had ever anticipated possible—but he was holding things back, and so was she.
Tulip heaved a sigh. “And then, there is Daisy. Who does precisely the opposite of everything I do.” She gestured for Cora to follow her behind a red curtain. Behind it was a peephole. “Some people love to watch other people have sex. It’s called voyeurism, which I assume is a word Mr. Wentworth has not and will not teach you.”
“Correct in both regards.” Cora shuddered despite the closeness of the cramped space. “This sounds like my worst nightmare.”
“It’s not for everyone, but those who enjoy it really enjoy it, such as…never mind. At any rate, Daisy is willing to let men tie her up and abuse her in any manner.”
Indeed, the dark-haired, large-bosomed woman in the red-themed room was bound in what appeared to be a deeply uncomfortable position while not one, but two, men penetrated her.
Cora’s eyebrows shot up. With Daisy blindfolded, it was difficult to say whether she was actually enjoying such treatment, but if she had to guess, Cora would have guessed yes. The men were certainly having a glorious time.
