“What do you mean?” Raven murmured, enjoying the warmth of Kell’s hard body as she lay curled against him.
“Madame Fouchet’s salon is the most elegant sin club in London. It specializes in some unique pleasures of the flesh and excels at fulfilling fantasies. I mean to take you there. It will be an experience I doubt your imaginary lover could give you.”
Raising her head from his shoulder, Raven eyed Kell skeptically. “All this time I have been attempting to salvage my reputation, and you expect me to comport with you at a brothel?”
“Your reputation seems to be repairing itself well enough. And as a matron, you are no longer bound by the same restrictions you once were.”
“Even so…”
“Where is your spirit of adventure, love? Haven’t you conformed to propriety long enough?”
Raven had to admit that the forbidden allure of a brothel held an unmistakable appeal. Two nights later she found herself accompanying Kell up the steps of Madame Fouchet’s house of pleasure.
They were admitted to an antechamber by a majordomo and greeted by Madame Fouchet, who expressed delight at their patronage.
“All is arranged as you asked, Monsieur Lasseter,” the Frenchwoman said. “My house is yours. You have only to ring for whatever you require.”
“Thank you, madame.”
“I shall leave you to your pleasures, then.”
With a bow, she disappeared through a rear door, leaving Raven alone with Kell.
He led her through another door to a long hallway, explaining as he went. “The rooms on this floor are used for group affairs, but there are a number of bedchambers above that provide more seclusion.”
Raven noticed the quiet and suspected that it was unusual. “There seems to be no one else here.”
“Because I hired the place for the night.”
“The entire house?”
“Yes, to allow us privacy.”
It amazed her that Kell would have gone to such trouble and paid what undoubtedly was an exorbitant expense, and yet she was grateful he intended to keep their tryst private. She might be unconventional at heart, but the prospect of a group fantasy enticed her not at all.
“Ordinarily,” he continued, “clients select their partners for the evening and dress i
n appropriate costume. The Turkish harem is one of the prime entertainments.”
He paused at an alcove that had a small viewing window. Raven could smell the scent of incense as she stepped up to the glass. The exotic scene was of an Eastern palace, with swaths of filmy draperies and wisping smoke and silken cushions.
He led her to another alcove, but the viewing window was curtained, Raven saw as they entered the fantasy room through a door. This scene was lit by flaming torches and resembled the deck of a ship with railings and sails and a tall wooden mast.
“The pirate ship is also a favorite here. The clients dress up as pirates and take captive a ship of female passengers.”
Raven raised an eyebrow. “And what do they do with their captives?”
“What do you suppose?” Kell asked, flashing a provocative half smile. “Ravishment is quite a popular fantasy. Here a man can have his wicked way without consequence. And adventurous ladies can pay for the pleasure of being one of the captives.”
“I collect that I am to play the role of captive?”
“And I will be your pirate lover. You said your fantasy lover is a pirate, did you not?”
She nodded hesitantly, not certain she liked where this game could lead.
“Tell me, has your lover ever ravished you or threatened your virtue?”
Raven felt herself flush. “My fantasies are my own,” she replied, unwilling to answer.