Lust Ever After. Rose Fer de
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bit her lip, fidgeting where she stood as he tormented her, her fingers clutching the lace edges of her pinafore. He knew full well what she had been up to. What girl wouldn’t be curious about the mysterious devices he kept in his locked cabinets? Justine was the one who answered the door to his lady patients, after all, and saw them out again. They were always glowing and a little dishevelled when they left. She was bound to be curious about this special treatment of his that was so popular that these women came back to see him time after time. And he didn’t doubt for a moment that she’d stood outside his consulting room, ear pressed to the door, eyes wide with wonder at the sounds that came from within.
He wasn’t annoyed with her in the slightest, but she was so fetching in her discomfiture he found himself looking for excuses to chide her simply so he could watch her squirm. He felt himself growing hard whenever he teased her. He recalled watching the delicious battle between shame and excitement the day he had hired her, subjecting her to a thorough and completely unnecessary physical examination. What fun he’d had coaxing her out of her dress, her corset, her chemise and pantalets. But just as no man could hide the bulge in his trousers when aroused, no woman could conceal the telltale wetness. And Justine was no exception.
‘The demonstration went well,’ he told her breezily. Initially he’d thought of pressing Justine into service for it, knowing she’d have responded exactly as Daisy had. But then he’d thought better of it. Occasionally, students or colleagues came to the house and the girl would have a devil of a time opening the door or serving tea to men who had seen her in such a state. He had a cruel streak, but not even he could do that to his sweet little maid.
‘That’s good, sir,’ she said, relaxing now that the subject of her snooping seemed to have been dropped. But he didn’t intend to let her off the hook so easily.
‘Yes, the girl was very responsive and I’m satisfied that the students are better informed now as regards the intricacies of female anatomy.’
Her cheeks blazed scarlet again and she chewed her lower lip. ‘Oh.’
‘Indeed, they wanted more. They wanted a demonstration of the Alleviator, but I told them it wouldn’t be possible, as it was simply too big to transport.’
At that he saw her eyes flick to the door of his reception room and then quickly away again. Ah, yes, the little fish was hooked. She knew the machine by name only; she had never seen it.
‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘I didn’t think it fair to subject a girl to that kind of exhibition. It does provoke rather intense and extreme responses in a young lady and I didn’t want the girl to feel at all inhibited by the public setting. In private, they can let go fully, as I’m the only one there to see.’
Justine swallowed audibly as she pretended to make some adjustment to the scattering of calling cards in the little silver salver on the hall table. ‘Very thoughtful, sir,’ was apparently all she could think of to say.
‘So who’s come calling today?’ There were three cards on the salver, each bearing the name of a young lady doubtless suffering the malady he alone seemed able to treat. ‘Miss Anna Fairfax, Mrs Gwendolyn Merrydale …’
‘Yes, sir, they asked if you could please see them right away. That lady –’ she pointed to a familiar gilt-edged card ‘– said it was a matter of extreme urgency.’
‘I see.’
The card Justine indicated belonged to a Mrs Sylvia Leigh-Hunt. She was a wealthy widow he’d been ‘treating’ for several months. She was a few years younger than his forty-two, but still a handsome woman. There was nothing at all wrong with her, but that was hardly the point. He was an expert in the art of separating rich fools from their money.
‘How did the other two look?’ he asked.
‘Oh, Miss Fairfax was a lovely young thing,’ Justine said dreamily. ‘Flaxen hair, green eyes. Like a painting she was, sir.’
He nodded. ‘Mm-hmm. And Mrs Merrydale?’
Justine frowned slightly and shook her head. ‘I told her you weren’t taking on any new patients.’
He laughed. Ah, yes, she knew her master’s tastes. ‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘You’ve done very well. Do you know, I think you’ve earned yourself a reward.’
Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, her face open and trusting and entirely innocent of what he had in mind. She may have thought Miss Fairfax was lovely, but Justine was quite a picture herself. She was twenty-three, slim and petite, sylph-like. But what he found most striking was the contrast of pale-blue eyes and dark hair. It gave her an air of mystery. He had seen her naked, of course, but he had never seen her with her hair down. She always kept it pinned up and tucked into her cap. It would fall in loose wanton waves round her shoulders if she let it down, like that of a gypsy or a wild woman.
Her delicate bone structure belied her low station and he had often toyed with the notion of dressing her as a lady and training her up. Teaching her manners, how to speak, how to walk, how to comport herself. He could see her clothed in a gown of vibrant silk, cut low across the bosom, jewels gleaming against her slender throat. He was sure she could pass for a lady given the right training. Ah, but a lady in public only. In private, he would teach her tricks that would make a whore blush.
Since entering his service, she had proven loyal and obedient. She had no family and no ties to the world outside. Until recently. In the past few weeks she had become sweet on the butcher’s boy Ralph, whom she saw whenever she went to the market to run errands. He was a handsome lad, but Frankenstein knew a bounder when he saw one. He’d seen the way the boy looked at her and he’d cautioned her against giving her heart away too readily, for it was bound to get broken. Still, even the brightest girl is made foolish by love and Frankenstein determined to keep an eye on his little maid, lest she be seduced. By someone other than him.
‘Would my curious little cat like to see what I keep in that locked chamber?’
A beautiful blush painted her cheeks and she fixed her eyes on the floor, where she nudged the toe of one boot against the other, in an agony of indecision. He spared her the misery of admitting her curiosity, took her by the hand and led her into the reception room. She lingered in the doorway as he withdrew a set of keys and unlocked his consulting room, then beckoned her further, as though into a sinister lair. He smiled at the thought, for in a way it was exactly that. Certain of the ladies he saw were under no illusion about what was really going on, but the majority of them had been so conditioned by prudish society as to genuinely believe there was nothing sexual in what he did to them. One day the world would catch on and his little speciality would come to an end. Until then, however, he intended to exploit it to the fullest.
Justine plucked at her skirt, nervously peering around at the cabinets and cupboards. He adjusted the gas lamp and moved deeper into the room, to the inner sanctum, the chamber in which the beast slept, awaiting another victim.
‘Sir, I’m not sure I should …’
Frankenstein returned to her and took her gently by the shoulders, offering her his most charming smile. Doubtless she feared he would persuade her out of her clothes again, a thought he couldn’t deny had crossed his mind. ‘Justine,’ he said, ‘we both know you’ve been in here before without my permission. Didn’t I say when I hired you that I needed a girl I could trust?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now, I don’t mind that you’re inquisitive, but that doesn’t give you leave to snoop.’
A delicate frown creased her features and she bit her lip. ‘No, sir,’ she mumbled.
‘I’ve never expressly forbidden you to come in here when I’m away – you certainly know where the spare key is kept – but I shouldn’t have thought it necessary. Good little chambermaids do not go sneaking around in their master’s private rooms.’
Although he spoke softly, smiling indulgently all the while, the girl was writhing in a horror of delicious embarrassment. He wondered if she could