The Touch of the Outcast_A Gothic Mystery Romance Read online

“I already had a customer,” said Polly. “Rich guy. Loves my tits.”

  Madam Svarosky laughed from the doorway. “Don’t scare the poor girl, Polly.”

  Polly winked at Elise, who blushed just hearing her crass words. She wasn’t used to people talking that way—most of the women Elise had grown up with had been conservative and proper. She had heard some gossip throughout her life but hardly any woman Elise knew would ever be so open about what she had done with a man.

  “I’ll leave you two alone. Make sure you take her downstairs, Polly.”

  “I will, madam,” Polly said, and Elise watched as the older woman shut the door behind them.

  “Are you ready?” Polly asked. Elise nodded, swallowing hard.

  “What exactly am I doing?”

  “Serving, mostly. Bringing drinks, maybe cleaning up around the place. Madam says you’re too good to be a whore.”

  Elise flushed again, embarrassed. “It’s not that, I just— “

  “Don’t worry, love,” said the girl, waving off Elise’s protest. “Not all girls are cut out for this, you know? You gotta be strong to be a whore. Smart. You look like a little frail thing.”

  “I’m not frail,” Elise said. Polly held her eye, her own sparkling.

  “Of course you’re not,” she said.

  “Are we going downstairs now?” Elise asked her, wanting to change the conversation. It was no good to argue whether or not Elise would make a good whore—it wasn’t something she would ever consider doing, no matter how desperate she got.

  “Are you ready for that?” Polly asked. “You know men are going to look at you, right? Maybe some of the girls, too.”

  “I know,” Elise said, trying to prepare herself for just that. She had always been leered at—her flaming red hair attracted a lot of attention. Despite the fact that it had lasted most of her life, she still hadn’t gotten used to the slimy feeling she got when she felt a man looking at her like she was a piece of meat.

  As they started to madke their way down the stairs, Polly looked at Elise. “You spoke to Lord Ashton, right? He was upstairs with you?”

  “Who?” Elise asked, confused. The only people she had spoken to were Madam Svarosky and the patron who had nearly burst in on her.

  “The man who was upstairs with you. Tall, handsome, obviously a nobleman?”

  Elise realized only then she was talking about the man she had bickered with upstairs.

  “Lord Ashton?”

  “He’s the Earl of Rockford,” the girl said, gaping at Elise openly. “Did he offer to take you home?”

  Elise shook her head. She knew that she should feel appalled at the fact that she had behaved so rudely toward someone of such a high rank, but she had found that his behavior merited such a reaction.

  “Too bad,” the girl said, a dreamy look on her face. “You could have been one of the lucky ones.”

  “What do you mean?” Elise asked.

  “The Earl comes in here all the time and takes girls out with him, but nobody knows what he does with them,” the girl said. She lowered her voice then. “There are rumors that he likes to—you know—use his mouth. But he’s embarrassed about it.”

  Elise found herself blushing when the other girl mentioned such a lewd act. Just thinking about it made her grow hot with discomfort. Elise couldn’t imagine ever letting a man do that to her, no matter how handsome or lordly he was.

  “What do you mean nobody knows?” Elise asked. “Don’t the women talk about it?”

  “Nobody will say for sure,” Polly said. “He pays them a fortune to keep it quiet. I choose to believe the mouth thing. I hope he’ll pick me someday.”

  “I guess if that’s what you like,” Elise said, squirming just thinking about it.

  “Have you never tried it?” the girl asked, looking surprised. Elise shook her head, looking around for any excuse to disappear and do something else. She saw the man then—Lord Ashton—in the corner with a woman who was beautiful, decked out in rich purple fabric with gold trim, her dark hair in a curtain around her heart-shaped face. The dark-haired woman was sitting on his lap, but Lord Ashton had met Elise’s eye and was holding her gaze from across the room. He gave her a small smile and she chewed on her lip, allowing herself briefly to imagine what it might be like to be with a man who liked to use his mouth. Elise couldn’t even picture such a thing, and every time she tried it made her blush even deeper. She dragged her eyes away from Lord Ashton’s and excused herself from Polly for a moment so that she could gather her thoughts, trying to go about her business for the rest of the night without talking to him at all.

  Chapter 2

  Julian found himself glancing around the room often, looking for the girl with the red hair who had been so defiant when he’d spoken to her upstairs. Veronica—beautiful, raven-haired Veronica—was sitting on his lap in the foyer, rubbing her hand up and down his leg, giving him that seductive smile that told him she would be putty in his hands whether he paid for it or not. He couldn’t focus on Veronica, though, not after having argued with the other woman. Just thinking about her irritated him. She had been so rude, even before she’d given him a chance to explain himself. He wasn’t used to people talking to him that way, and he found that it had irked him more than he could say. Still, it seemed that no matter how hard he tried to focus, he couldn’t stop thinking about her red hair, those soft-looking lips, and her vivid green eyes.

  “Excuse me, Veronica,” Julian said in her ear, trying to be courteous in rejecting her. “I think I’d better go home for the night.”

  The girl pouted, her full bottom lip poking out, begging to be sucked on. Julian didn’t want to kiss her, although on any other night he might have. Veronica was one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen, and yet for some reason that he didn’t understand, he found himself distracted by the five-minute conversation he’d had with that unruly woman, the way her body had trembled as he’d laced her up. He had wanted to touch her skin, softly brush her with his knuckles just to feel how smooth it was, but something had stopped him, something that he was thankful for when all was said and done.

  Julian said good night to some of the women, many of whom he knew intimately from taking them out when he wanted company. They were all very sweet, easy, and charming companions, and Julian found it much more pleasant to spend his time socializing with girls in brothels than with his noble peers.

  Julian whistled when he got outside and his attendant brought the curricle around, a fast-paced carriage that Julian had just purchased for traveling. He got impatient on long rides and preferred taking the horse itself over the carriage, but tonight he had planned to take a woman with him, and he knew that most of the girls at the brothel weren’t accustomed to riding horseback. As he climbed on, he was glad to be leaving the place behind without company. He had been thrown off by the girl, and his mind was still racing with thoughts of her even after he got home and was in bed. She had been so beautiful, yet so stubborn and infuriating at the same time. Julian could never deal with a woman like that—one who was insolent and beyond reason.

  He woke up in the morning to commotion downstairs, the sounds of raised, high-pitched voices and what sounded like sobbing. Julian got out of bed and dressed quickly, going downstairs to the foyer to find his maid, Laura, standing in front of the door, tears streaming down her face. Her bags were at her feet and she was talking to Julian’s housekeeper, a woman he had known since childhood named Nikola. Nikola regarded her sympathetically, her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?” Julian asked her as he approached them, his brow furrowed in concern. The girl looked at him shyly, avoiding his eye as she always had. She had always been mousy and watery-eyed, but Julian had never seen her cry before.

  “What happened?” he asked impatiently when neither of the women answered. They exchanged a look, then Laura finally met his eye.

  “It’s this h
ouse, my lord,” she said, her voice trembling. “All the spirits here. The ones upstairs. I can’t—I can feel them breathin’ on me, my lord. I can feel them lookin’ at me all the time.”

  “That’s nonsense,” Julian said, exhaling in exasperation. It was the same reason he’d suspected his last maid had left, though she hadn’t so much as left a note before she’d disappeared. “There are no spirits in this house.”

  “You can lie to yourself all you want,” she said, squaring her jaw to stare Julian down with as much bravery as she could muster. “But you know there’s something going on here. This house—it’s evil.”

  “It’s not— “

  “It’s okay, love,” said Nikola, wrapping her arms around the girl’s shoulders and shooting Julian a look that told him to stop speaking. He closed his mouth, shaking his head as he watched the girl pick up her bags. She left with one more quiet word to Nikola. Nikola turned around then and looked at him, her kind eyes seeking Julian’s. Just looking at her usually gave Julian comfort—she was the one who had delivered him, after all. Nikola had been his nanny his whole life until he was older, when Julian decided to take her on as his housekeeper instead. This time, though, Julian felt only frustration when he met her gaze.

  “That’s the third maid in two months,” Julian said, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair.

  “Maybe it’s time to start telling them what’s upstairs,” Nikola said. He shook his head adamantly.

  “That will only cause them to go looking. You know the girls we bring in here, always too curious for their own good. I’ve caught more than one of them on her way up the stairs and they always make up some excuse for being there.”

  “If they’re looking anyway, why not tell them?” Nikola asked.

  “It’s better just to keep them off the third floor,” Julian said, his voice firm. He didn’t like taking that tone with Nikola, but on this, he had to be firm. “We’ll find a maid who can mind her own business.”

  “Where do you propose we get another maid?” Nikola asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Julian thought about it for a moment. He didn’t want to put an advertisement out or deal with interviews. It only irritated him to see girl after girl knowing that any one of them would do the job just fine if she could manage to mind her own business.

  “I’ll find someone,” Julian said. “I’ll find someone today.”

  “Okay, my lord,” Nikola said.

  Julian winced. “Don’t call me that, Nikola,” he said chidingly. Hearing Nikola refer to him as if he was superior to her, as if she hadn’t practically raised him from a child, was something that made him deeply uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry, Julian,” she said with a smile. She put her hand to his cheek. “You’re a good boy. Do you think you’ll have a girl here for supper?”

  Julian shook his head. “I should think that she’ll need some time to get her affairs in order. But I will be back tonight.”

  Nikola nodded, then disappeared into the kitchen. Julian went outside and to the stables, saddling his own horse while avoiding the stable boy. Julian didn’t feel like talking to anybody right now—he was frustrated with the maid, with the fact that he had to keep so much of his life a secret from even the people who lived with him. Only Nikola knew what was on the third floor.

  Julian started out on his horse, not sure about where he was going. Part of the reason he had wanted to ride was to try to clear his head, think more clearly about the situation. He needed a maid—the house was much too big for Nikola to take care of on her own at her age, and the rooms needed to be turned frequently in order to keep them from getting musty and the curtains eaten by moths.

  While he was thinking about it, he found himself riding in the direction of the brothel. The times when he had hired maids before, they had been young women coming from their homes, trying to make a little money for their family or to afford to impress a suitor so that they could move on. Getting a girl at the brothel might be different—she would obviously have nowhere else to go and might be more appreciative of the job.

  By the time he made up his mind, he was already at the brothel, handing the horse’s reins to the attendant before going inside. He looked around, his eyes scanning the room. They lit upon the girl—the one with the red hair, and she caught his eye, her face blushing a pale pink that made her cheeks look rosy and sweet. He found himself staring at her even after she looked away and started to pour ale out of a pitcher into the mugs of the men around her, who looked at her hungrily in a way that clearly made her uncomfortable.

  “Lord Ashton,” came a voice behind him, and he turned to see Madam Svarosky sweeping through the room in his direction, a bright smile on her face. “What can I do for you tonight? Veronica was very disappointed that you left last night and would love to see you again, if you’re interested.”

  “No, thank you. I actually came here to speak to you,” he said. “I need a maid at my estate. I was wondering if you had a girl that you could send over for me. It doesn’t matter who.”

  She thought for a moment, looking around the room.

  “Of course, my lord. I’m sure any of the girls would be happy to come work at your estate. I’ll find one and send her to you tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t have a preference? Maybe a blonde? Eighteen? She’s absolutely adorable.”

  “Someone a bit older, I think,” Julian said to her. “And yes, send her as soon as you can. We’ll be waiting for her.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Is there anything else?”

  Julian shook his head, casting another glance around the room. Part of him was hoping to see the red-headed girl again, just to catch a glimpse of her before he left. But he didn’t find her, so he left the brothel, climbing back on his horse to start home.

  Chapter 3

  Elise stood nervously in front of the door to the massive mansion, her hand frozen, poised to knock. She couldn’t bring herself to do it—the place was so imposing, sprawling over what seemed like an endless expanse of land. It stretched out far to the left and right of her, with a tower in the center that spiraled into a dangerous peak at the top. There were gargoyles on top of the building, snarling and made of stone, looking down at Elise while she stood shivering on the porch of the mansion.

  The door opened before Elise had a chance to knock and Elise saw a woman standing there, older, looking at Elise with concern on her face.

  “What are you doing out here, miss?”

  “I was just— “

  “Never mind,” said the woman. “Come in, you’ll catch a chill if you stand out there.”

  Elise lifted her bag over her shoulder and carried it inside, looking around in awe when she saw the mansion’s interior. It was dimly lit with only small sconces on the walls, which were made of a slate grey stone, just as hard and unrelenting as the outside. Elise couldn’t help but shiver even though it was warm inside—she could see at least two fires blazing in the house, one just in front of her in the foyer and another to the right in what looked like a large and opulent sitting room.

  “Are you hungry?” the woman asked Elise, who was still staring around the room, drinking in everything with her eyes. She had never seen such opulence or riches. Though the walls were only grey stone, the rest of the room was decorated with rich velvet draperies inlaid with what looked almost like spun gold stitching. There were rich oil paintings on the walls, dozens of them, as well as rugs that were so beautiful they were almost a shame to walk on. Elise looked down at the patterned rug and had the urge to bend down and touch it with her fingers, but resisted, instead meeting the woman’s eye.

  “No, thank you,” Elise said.

  “You’re the new maid, right?” the woman asked. “I’m Nikola. I’m the housekeeper.”

  “Elise,” she said, giving the woman a shy curtsy. She wasn’t sure how to respond to a housekeeper—they had never had servants in their house growing
up. As a maid, Elise assumed that the housekeeper would be directly above her, and she tried to show her as much respect as possible.

  Nikola waved the gesture off. “None of that. I’m just an old bat. Treat me like you would any other old woman.”

  Elise found herself smiling. “Okay,” she said.

  “Lord Ashton wanted me to show you to his office as soon as you got here, he’s— “

  Elise froze as they started to make their way up the stairs.

  “Lord Ashton?” she said, staring at the woman. Madam Svarosky hadn’t told Elise exactly where she was going, only that a rich man needed a maid that that it would be a good opportunity for Elise to get out of the brothel if she wanted to. Elise had jumped at the chance; at the time, she hadn’t cared who the man was, as long as it got her out of the brothel and put money in her pocket.

  “Yes,” said Nikola, raising her eyebrows. “Do you know him?”

  “I, uh—we met,” said Elise, hating that she was stumbling over her words. The truth was, Elise had hardly been able to get the nobleman out of her mind since she’d met him, no matter how hard she tried to fight against the thoughts. His handsome face seemed to be haunting her mind—the way he held her eye, the warm look that made something burn in Elise every time she looked at him.

  The woman looked at Elise with sympathy. “He can be a rough man, but he’s kind. You’ll see.”

  “Okay,” said Elise, not knowing what else to say. Her heart beat quickly in her chest as they finished climbing the stairs, making their way down the west wing of the mansion to the very last door. Nikola knocked on it and peered inside when a masculine voice called out for them to come in. Elise took a deep breath as Nikola pushed the door open. Lord Ashton met her eye, a surprised look on his handsome features. He stood up, and Elise couldn’t help but note how strong he looked, his body tall and lean with muscle. Elise had never seen such a handsome man in her life—his features were chiseled and fine, as if carved out of marble, his skin slightly golden in a way that made him look like he had been basking in the sun. But it was his eyes that caught Elise’s attention and held it—they were so pale they were almost golden, and feline, almost like a predator. The thought made Elise shiver as she looked at the man, who was looking over her in turn.