Dark Angels by Koen Karleen

Author:Koen, Karleen [Koen, Karleen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Crown
Published: 2006-09-05T04:00:00+00:00

OFF WYCH STREET, which was near the square of Covent Garden, Richard finally found the alley called Wych Court. There it was, the house with the red door. A burly man opened it at his knock, looked him up and down, and, at the coin offered, allowed him entrance. Richard walked down a long hall, small chambers to each side, sheer curtains drawn shut if there was a customer, open if not, so that the passerby might view the wares: boys, young men—some dressed as women, made up with paint and patches and curling hair, some not. And the closed curtains were sheer enough to allow a view of various acts of coupling. Sounds of groans and panting, of cursing and crying, followed him into the main chamber, a handsome room with ornate furniture, every piece French and gilded silver. Men—merchants and goldsmiths, ship’s captains and noblemen—stood in groups, sipping wine, talking. Boys and young men Richard’s age mingled with them. A footman, his cheeks and lips highly rouged, patches on his face like a woman, approached.

“A word with Mrs. Neddie,” said Richard. He handed the footman the note Balmoral had given him, then stood awkwardly. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He was aware of the gaze of men falling on him in a way he wasn’t used to. A boy, twelve or so, walked over. Richard shook his head. “I’m not here to buy anything.”

“Not even a glass of wine?”

“No.”

“One glass of wine. I’ll be beaten otherwise. We have to make money for her in whatever way we can. One glass of wine and you’re rid of me for the evening, I swear it.”

Richard considered the boy, measuring the truth in his eyes. They were clear, his face smooth, open. He was lying. He said to a servant, “A glass of wine for…”

“Etienne.”

“Etienne and myself.”

“I’ve not seen you before,” Etienne said.

“Nor are you likely to again. Etienne?” He mocked the French name.

The boy grinned. “It’s fashionable to be French these days. Sometimes I pretend I don’t speak English, and they pay more.”

“Go away, Etienne.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The footman had appeared, was beckoning Richard. He followed him up a flight of stairs and into a handsome chamber done in the best style, French furniture, large, elaborately framed Italian landscape paintings on the wall, shimmering draperies of fine silk. Lounging on a sumptuous daybed was a beautiful woman dressed in a gown the color of midnight, ebony shot through with threads of blue. Diamonds glittered around her neck and at her ears. She smiled at Richard, who blinked. She might be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Do sit down, Lieutenant Saylor. How is my very dear Duke of Balmoral?” Her voice was low, with a provocative rasp to it.

“Well, thank you.”

“How is it that I may aid you? I know it isn’t a boy for the duke. Have you come on his behalf for someone? I can give you tough boys, ruffians, or soft, sweet ones.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.