Read Reckless in Pink for Free Online

duller but not peeling or old, which she took as a good sign.
    A roar of merrymaking rocked the house as she entered. Men’s voices, interrupted by the higher pitch of female, burst from the room upstairs. Down here relative quiet reigned, and she could just make out shapes covered by canvas and covers. A shop, probably. Shop by day, brothel by night.
    The man jerked his head to the staircase at the end of the room. “Up there. What’s your name?”
    She’d prepared one. “Ellie Franks.” The combined names of two servants at the London house.
    “Go and serve some drinks. If a gentleman takes a fancy to you, you can stay. Usual rates.”
    She dared not ask what they were. Once she showed her papers to whoever was in charge, she wouldn’t be collecting any drinks or money.
    Up the stairs, she found one large room, the narrow supporting arch barely holding up the roof. That would have to be shored up to be safe. The floor was bare boards, well polished but worn, dipping in places where it was most frequently walked on. She could barely see it, because most of the space was taken up. Two long tables stretched widthways with a jumble of chairs, none matching, gathered around them. All were occupied, some of them double.
    Men were engaged in drinking, laughing, and fondling. On one corner of the table, two men were engaged in what appeared to be a game of piquet. Their cards were in neat piles, together with tokens that would presumably be converted into money at the end of their play. They were oblivious to the goings-on in the rest of the room. The room was ill-lit, probably on purpose, dark corners providing useful corners for more intimate play.
    Claudia had never seen anything like it in her life, and it fascinated her.
    The women were in various stages of undress. A man dragged a bodice down and sucked on the girl’s breasts. Claudia stood close enough to hear the growls he made and the giggles from the girl. How could she allow anyone to maul her like that? The bitter flavor of distaste filled her mouth. Even for money, that was taking matters much further than Claudia wanted to go. She couldn’t imagine doing that with anyone, even Lord St. Just.
    She dismissed him from her mind. This was most certainly not the time to think of him.
    An older lady, wrinkled breasts on full display, approached her. “Yes?” she said. “Did Harold let you in?”
    Claudia moistened her lips. “Yes, he did. I have to show you something.”
    The lady had shaved her brows, but the penciled ones demonstrated her surprise as well as the originals would have. “You’re not showing enough as it is. If you want to get some customers, you’ll have to tempt them more than that.”
    In response, she drew out the copies of her letters that she’d hastily made that afternoon and handed them over.
    Claudia had pushed her bodice as low as she’d dared, but she wouldn’t dream of exposing her nipples, as this lady did. Even less talking rationally while having them on blatant display. The more Claudia tried not to look, the more she wanted to, although it was far from a savory sight.
    The lady carried an odor with her, a mixture of camphor, lavender, and stale sweat. What wreathed around her nose most was a heavy, thick, unpleasant scent, spiked with a sharper smell not unlike two-day-old fish. Her stomach roiled and she pressed her hand to it. Maybe the lamps in the hall outside were using cheap fish oil.
    No, it wasn’t that. She knew what it was, and she hated to admit that she did. Unwashed female. The heavier smell must be the men in the room, although she had no knowledge of what men’s private parts smelled like. If this was a sample, she wanted none of it.
    She couldn’t imagine Lord St. Just carried that scent under his pristine, expensive clothes. When he’d kissed her, all she’d smelled was a faint citrus aroma and warm, clean male. She was accustomed to that scent in her brothers, but not the heat and the muskiness. The