Rooksgrave Manor
Rooksgrave Manor was the finest house I had ever seen, with brick such a dark gray it was almost black and glossy bay windows shrouded in dark curtains. There were round turrets sprouting out of the roof, and it was deep and wide on the property, sprawling over the peat. A loch surrounded the back of the house, the sun setting yellow on the water.
The carriage stopped at the front doors, twin behemoths of wood and iron, and I waited a long minute for us to continue on to the back of the house.
“This is where I drop you off,” my driver said, looking over his shoulder at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh!” I stared at the doors again. I’d never gone in at the front of a house. Not a proper house. And this wasn’t even a house, it was a manor. “Couldn’t you take me round the back?” I asked. Maybe there was a nice small kitchen door that would feel more appropriate for me.
“These were my instructions, and I’ve not got plans to stay longer than I have to,” said the driver as his horse gave a nervous huff and the carriage jerked forward a step.
There was a loud groan and croak from the manor, and the doors began to swing in, pulled by an enormous man dressed in a butler’s uniform so black, he almost vanished into the shadow of the house behind him. The horses skipped forward again before the driver pulled tight on the reins. The man in the doorway straightened until his head nearly brushed the frame above him. He stepped out onto the drive, the yellow sunlight spilling over his eerily pale skin and heavy scowl. A blue-gray scar, almost like a vein, ran from one temple down to the opposite jaw, across the top of his nose.
The butler lumbered out to the carriage, eyes fixed somewhere above my head, and he stepped with such force, I thought for sure he was coming to snatch me out of my seat. Instead, he went to the back where my small case was fixed, lifting it up as if it weighed nothing. To be fair, it weighed very little, and he was so large that the sleeves of his coat looked near to bursting open. He stopped on the gravel drive with his back to me, waiting.
“Hop out or ride back to London with me, but I wasn’t paid to sit and wait,” my driver said.
I huffed and opened the carriage door, jumping down and grumbling, “You’re a real prince.”
The driver didn’t wait to answer or hear more. The horses were quick to rush around the circular drive and back out to the road.
I felt antsy without anything to do with myself, anything to carry or hold to keep my hands busy, so I found myself watching the butler’s back. Either he had grown recently, filling out the suit to the point of risking its seams, or someone liked to dress him dangerously. I couldn’t say I blamed them, the stretch of his shoulders across his back was a nice view.
“Thank you, Booker.”
I tore my eyes away from the swell of the butler’s rump and rose up on my toes to peer around his shoulder. The speaker was a woman, elegant and strange in the doorway, wearing a red velvet robe with black roses crawling up the sleeves and tangling around the bodice. There didn’t seem to be anything beneath the robe, and it bared milky white skin down a lengthy neck and almost to her navel. Her hair was wrapped in a red turban, thin curls of black framing her face. She had huge, unnatural eyes that even from a distance, seemed to catch light like some kind of jewel, and she grinned widely at me, teeth large and bright and straight.
“There you are, little darling,” she said to me. Her large eyes ran from my hair down to my toes, and she added, “Yes, you’ll do very nicely. Come in, come in.”
And then she ducked into the dark mouth of the manor, Booker following after her. I stopped on the front step, looking up at the dark brick rising up above my head, at the heavy door in front of me, trying to see into the darkness that waited ahead. There was a creeping, crawling worry sneaking up my back and twisting my insides around each other. Was I safe here? Really? I only had Dr. Underwood’s word to go by.
But thinking of Dr. Underwood had me thinking of the night in his office again, and with that, the nervousness turned into needy shivers and my belly warmed. I thought of the hulking Mr. Tanner teasing and toying and taking from me. I wanted more, and he’d promised that was what I would find in this house.
I stepped inside, and the door shut behind me. It’d been a gloomy day outside, but with the door closed, the room turned black as my eyes struggled to adjust.
“I apologize for the rather dreary setting, darling. I know you’re used to London, but our patrons prefer their privacy and the sunlight can be…detrimental to some. Booker, some candles.”
A flare of light bloomed, and the entry hall appeared, stealing any answer I might have thought to give to the lady.
The room was enormous. Black curtains hung over the windows, and beneath my feet, more dark tile seemed to spiral across the floor, one branch leading to the door, two more out of the room and into halls, a fourth up to the wide staircase that led deeper into the manor. Booker’s stone-white face was reflected in a mirror in front of me as he lit thin candles on the branches of a candelabra. The woman appeared in front of me, smile wide and toothy still.
“Let’s have a longer look at you,” she said, lifting a soft hand to my chin but taking it in a firm grip. “Mhmm, a good face. Gentle, open, brave. Just like our men here need. Do you like sex, darling?”
“I love it,” I said, without thinking, and when she grinned, her cheeks dimpled and my own lips stretched to mirror hers.
“Good, that’s very good,” she said. “I’m Magdalena Mortimer, darling, and while this isn’t my house, I am in charge here. My promise to you is that you will be wonderfully spoiled and well cared for. The only promise I ask for in exchange is that you use that gentle, open, brave heart of yours to care for the gentlemen who come here to see you.”
“Is… Will Dr. Underwood be one of those men?” I asked, chewing at my lip. I imagined I could still feel that same stretch inside of me, Mr. Tanner filling me up, even though it had been a little over a week.
Magdalena grinned again. “He’s asked to be, if you’d like that. It will always be your choice.”
“Yes, please,” I said quickly, and Magdalena gave out a trilling little giggle.
“Very well. Now, let’s sit for some tea, and I’ll share a few details you ought to know.” She linked her arm with mine, the velvet brushing lushly over my skin. “Tea in my office, Booker, please.”
I looked over my shoulder as Magdalena began to lead me away. For the first time, I caught the butler’s blue-white eyes on me. He was nearly expressionless, but he didn’t seem to resent his orders, he simply stared at my face another moment and then bent lightly in a bow before straightening and walking into the opposite hall.
I turned my attention to the hall we entered, dimly lit with lamps, and my feet tripped on the thick carpet as I saw the art on the walls. Every painting stole my breath, all vividly depicted images of naked women, faces torn with pleasure, being taken by monsters. Magdalena slowed to allow me to look.
A woman with her head thrown back in ecstasy, fists wrapped around the horns of an onyx-skinned demon whose face was buried between her thighs, their bodies stretched across lavish pillows. Another of a woman, arms stretched and tied above her, legs wrapped around the hips of a pale man with fire-red hair, his mouth opened wide to reveal long fangs tipped with red. And another, a male figure covered in scales with jewel black eyes, stretched over the back of a woman, just a glimpse of an emerald cock nestling inside of her, her dark fingers clutching a pillow.
“The works of one of our manor ladies. She’s a lovely painter,” Magdalena said lightly.
My mouth was dry, and I licked my lips to try to draw thought back into my head. “And this… These are the kind of men who come here?” I asked, knowing it to be true.
“These and many other kinds,” Magdalena said. I could feel her eyes watching me, but I was more interested in the arousal that was beginning to dew between my thighs.
“And I can have all of them?” I asked.
Magdalena laughed then, bright and surprised. “What a curious creature you are,” she said. “Not many seem as pleased as you to be here.”
“I’ve had a fair share of men, Madame, but not one with scales. Do they go…” I wiggled my eyebrows at her.
I thought she might have blushed, but it was hard to tell in the dark hall. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know, darling,” she said. “My work here is…primarily of a different nature.”
So she hadn’t had a scaled bloke either. I wondered if I’d get to.