The Erotic Return of Ambrose Horne by Chrissie Bentley

Author:Chrissie Bentley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Xcite Books
Published: 2010-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

The Strange Case of the Wishing Box – A Christmas Mystery

The first time that it happened, Williams put it down to coincidence. The second time, to sheer luck. But the third time ... the third time he wrote down an idle fantasy, and slipped the piece of paper into the ornately decorated, cherry wood box that lay by his bedside, and then experienced his dream within 24 hours, that was when he knew that the old Jew had not been misleading him; that this truly was a Wishing Box.

The girl alongside him nudged him. ‘A penny for your thoughts?’

Williams kissed her shoulder. ‘Nothing, my dear. I was just contemplating the generous fates that directed my footsteps towards the Portland Rooms, precisely as you should be tumbling out of them.’ The girl was a whore, of course, and Williams had paid a tidy sum for her company. But even whores had limitations, and acts they would not indulge. This girl, Jenny, had not only gone about the task with enthusiasm; she had actually suggested it herself.

Jenny giggled. ‘You liked that?’

‘I liked it very much indeed,’ he smiled. ‘But I have to ask, how you even became aware of such a thing?’

‘Trade secret,’ she cackled. And then, ‘Promise you won’t be cross? I made it up as I went along. I had the idea this afternoon and wondered whether I should add it to my vocabulary, as it were? A lot of the girls specialise in different things these days. I just wanted to find something special of my own. Oh, and a nice man to try it out on.’

‘Well, I think you’re ready to show it to the world,’ Williams said, with a bonhomie that, in all seriousness, he did not feel. But he suppressed the urge to offer the girl more money to save the act for him alone. He had read much about those other men who attempted to reform, or at least rein in prostitutes, and had long ago dismissed them as sanctimonious milksops. No, better that Jenny should take her talent to the streets, and allow him to bask in the knowledge that he had been the first man to experience it. And who knows? If he ever experienced the same urge again, he would seek Jenny out in the knowledge that she could only have grown even better at doing it. The Wishing Box would see to that.

The Wishing Box. For a long time after he bought it, he had scarcely given it a second thought. He was in the East End, passing through after seeing a business acquaintance off at the docks, when one of the horses pulling his cab lost a shoe. Dismounting from the carriage, he intended simply hailing another, and putting the stink of Poplar behind him as quickly as possible. But a store caught his eye, and he found himself inside, glancing over the bric-a-brac while the owner, an elderly Jew with an accent as thick as the fog, fussed beside him, keeping up a running commentary on every item Williams touched upon.

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