Perhaps it was the atmosphere, the bawdy call of the whores to the men, with their stiff nipples painted so red that even a chemise could not hide them, or the fact that it was a forbidden place for any woman of worth, but Hannah could not have turned back from her quest to enter the brothel any more than she could have stopped herself from breathing. She wanted to be reckless and wild for once in her life, and finally come to understand just what men and women did together in their marriage bed. Her mother had merely stated she would tell her when it was time but at twenty-three Hannah was tired of waiting.
She had chosen a domino of black and white to hide herself away. It was the regular costume it seemed, though many came out wearing the cloak over their sleeve, the mask askew, but those were the men. The women... well, from what Hannah could see they were all whores and hardly worth emulating since she didn't want to lose her virginity tonight, merely come to understand all that would lie between her and her nonexistent husband when it came time. Beneath the domino was a white chemise gown with cherry red accents. It was outdated but in good condition, and something she felt no one would recognize her in since it was something she would never wear. Adding a few rosebuds to her curls and painting a tiny red heart on the cheek of the plain white mask, Hannah slipped from her parents' home in Mayfair to hire a hackney, knowing that her parents were well occupied at a charity function claimed to be the ball of the season.
She felt giddy once safely in the confines of the hackney, the driver given the directions to the house she had staked out for her foray. Her limbs tingled and seemed to pulse, the core of it nestled low in her stomach. She didn't think much of it, chalking it all up to nerves as she waited for the hackney to reach the unassuming brick townhouse. When the driver stopped and opened the door, Hannah carefully stepped down, the cherry red slippers covering her feet, her stockings a creamy white, all going with the ensemble she had chosen. Paying the man, she turned towards the black door, drawing in a deep breath before she made her way up the path and steps to knock. The large hulking man who answered looked down at her with a fierce expression, almost startling Hannah away altogether since she hadn't been expecting someone to guard the door; but he allowed her entrance, his words thickly accented as he spoke. "Enjoy your evening, Madame."
"Thank you." Hannah murmured back, her gaze barely registering the man now that she had walked in far enough to see the men and women in the drawing rooms. One had been turned into a gambling hall with some of the whores playing with the men as others merely stood or sat beside their patrons, laughing and enjoying their time. Another held a small string quartet that played music so couples could dance, though they seemed to dance far too closely for propriety's standards and had some movements that made Hannah blush just by seeing.
"Lost?" The voice spoke in an amused, questioning tone, causing Hannah to jump before turning to gaze with wide brown eyes up to the woman who had spoken. Hannah swallowed nervously, looking over the woman in shock. If angels were to exist, Hannah assumed she would have been one of them, though she looked quite fallen right now. She was a little plump, with round curves and beautiful complexion. Thick blonde hair that held artificial curls fell around her shoulders. Blue eyes set off by dark, full lashes above pouting red lips completed the package that was dressed in a sheer gown.
Giving a small shake of her head, Hannah flushed and stuttered. "No, mere-merely looking."
The woman seemed to purr as she gazed over Hannah in the same thorough fashion that Hannah had gazed at her. She smiled after a minute before she took Hannah's hand. "Follow me."
Not given much of a choice, Hannah did just that, the warm grip on her right hand seeming to warm her whole body, Hannah's heart pumping hard with trepidation of being found out. What would they do to girls who shouldn't have come? The possibilities seemed endless. As her mind whirled around the thought, Hannah was led up a set of stairs and down one hall to a room. It was fashioned with pale yellows and pinks, with a wide bed and a vanity. It reminded Hannah a bit like her room, a young lady's room; not quite a woman but not a girl.
After leading Hannah into the room, the woman dropped her hand and closed the door, letting the lock click into place before she moved to sit on the bed. She patted the spot beside her as she looked at Hannah. "Why not come here and tell me the truth of the matter. We won't be disturbed."
Slowly doing as bid, Hannah took a seat beside the woman, feeling the bed shift as the woman scooted close enough that her leg brushed her own. Swallowing hard yet again, Hannah let her gaze rest on her hands. "My name is Han-"
The woman raised her hand, holding up one finger as she made a noise to hush Hannah mid-sentence. "No, we do not use names here."
Nodding at that fact, Hannah started again, this time her gaze on the woman's face as she felt a guilty flush touch her cheeks. "I came because I wanted to know what to expect in the marriage bed. My mother will not say, and nor will my married friends. Some seem too nervous to speak but many lord it over me because I have yet to become engaged myself."
The woman nodded slowly, absorbing Hannah's statement with some thought rather than the scorn that Hannah had been expecting. "Well," the woman said after a moment, her tone curious and cautious, "I assume that you did not come here to give away that gift, did you?"
Shaking her head quickly, Hannah watched the woman with growing hope, wondering if she would help Hannah in succeeding to her goal. The woman nodded after watching Hannah's face before she rose up from the bed. "You shall call me Miss. Whenever you speak to me; you must address me properly, understood?"
