Selling Selena: Gaslight Guilds, #1

By Kathleen Scott

Time is running out for Wilmont Braxton, Lord Blackmore. A curse that turns him from man to beast comes at ever increasing intervals. His only wish before he succumbs to the spell is to secure his lost betrothed on his estates, to provide for her as he will not be able to once he becomes trapped in the body of a monster.

Selena Marigold is not the typical Victorian woman. Rich in magical talent that allows her to read auras and throw glamours to disguise her appearance, she has spent her life living as a prisoner in one of London's most notorious brothels. When the madam schemes to sell Selena's virginity to the highest bidder, Selena must leave her wretched surroundings and strike out on her own...even at the risk of angering the might magic Guilds.

When she is abudcted from the auction by a man who casts no aura, Selena knows her life will never be the same. Secrets of the past rise to the surface and place both she and Lord Blackmore in danger, even as the Guilds close in around them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mystic Kat Press
• Release date: May 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393682820

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Auction

London 1890

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The auction room began to fill. Cigar smoke hung heavy on the air, little clouds of acrid exhaust from the mouths of the city’s elite. Selena Marigold stood backstage, peeking around the curtain as guests entered and took their seats. Anticipation ran like alternating current through the room. One of the men present would leave tonight the owner of her virginity.

Angry with herself for not closing her door to her room properly, Selena had no one to blame but herself for her current predicament. One moment left unguarded and Madame Lucretia had noticed the beauty that Selena tried valiantly to hide behind a veneer of glamour. The appearance of plainness and her ability to read the use of glamour on others were the two things that had saved her from Madame’s clients over the last few years. Madame only employed the most beautiful women in her brothel, so the deception had been an important part of self-preservation in an establishment such as the Purple Papillon.

Not that Madame had ever been above selling the bodies of young girls to the perverted masses who frequented the establishment, but Selena’s talents made her a bit more valuable to the proprietress than what might be found under her skirt.

Madame Lucretia’s brother, Lowry Winfro, stood next to Selena. He adjusted his waistcoat in a self-satisfied manner, pleased with the turnout for the evening’s event. Though Madame had taken credit for the auction scheme, the festivities had Lowry’s stamp all over it. No one else could have put the idea in Madame Lucretia’s head. A wickeder pair of siblings Selena had never met.

Evil simmered in the air around him. None of his intentions were ever for the greater good. Pride, vanity, and greed were his constant bedfellows.

His snake’s gaze slithered over her body, clad only in the filmiest of robes, stopping at the level of her breasts. After your client gets his money’s worth, you’re mine. He slid a finger over her shoulder. She turned to shake his touch and the cold press of steel kissed her spine.

Jim Bonney, Madame Lucretia’s muscle, took up position behind Selena with a gun pointed at her midsection. As a means of motivation and insurance against running, it was quite effective. The gun barrel was as big around as Selena’s wrist. She’d seen the hole it put in a body the year before. Old Tom Morton had tried roughing up Adeline then stole the money she had hidden in her room. Jim retaliated by pumping lead into Tom and leaving him with a hole a carriage could pass through.

She shivered at the memory.

Lowry misread her reaction. His smile was as oily as the pomade he put in his hair. He leaned closer, breathing his hot whiskey-fumed breath over her face. I promise you’ll enjoy our adventures. You’ll never want for anything as long as you do as I say. We’ll be rich beyond your wildest dreams.

Given the choice, Selena would rather want.

When he didn’t get the response he sought, he changed tactics. He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. "Don’t forget who you owe for saving you from my sister’s wrath. She wanted to have you plucked, fucked, and serving her clients on a regular basis. It was I who proposed a way to earn more money in a single night than you’d bring over the course of months. It is I who will save you from a life of spreading your legs for the whole of London. Never forget that."

She was unlikely to forget it anytime soon.

Selena’s ability to see glamour on others had ensured her a place to live and income without selling her body since she was old enough to remember. The fact the only things memories she had from her early childhood was a healthy fear of fire and the life in the Purple Papillon notwithstanding. Since her earliest years, Madame Lucretia had used Selena’s unusual talents to retain the upper hand in business schemes, an arrangement that had proved quite lucrative for the brothel owner but not so much for Selena.

Something big brewed at the Purple Papillon. The last few months had seen more meetings at odd hours of the day and night. Selena had been worked nearly to exhaustion while Madame Lucretia and her brother conducted their clandestine activities, though only God above knew what the current scheme entailed. That extra measure of secrecy and overburden of work was how Selena found herself standing backstage, forced to sell the one thing that should be given for free to the man of her choice.

She hated herself for letting her guard down for anyone passing her room to see the beauty she’d successfully hid for so many years. Not that beauty was the sole measure of a prostitute, but Madame Lucretia had a standard she maintained. In fact, the anyone who had discovered her had been Lowry Winfro and that proved to be her downfall. The day had been long, and she’d been so tired. Not only had she forgotten to lock her door, but she’d not had the energy to keep up the disguise as a plain, humble young woman. Madame Lucretia had been furious, she’d promised to get her money’s worth out of Selena one way or another.

Back pay for lost income.

The motto around the brothel was never get between Madame Lucretia and money. Unless one wanted an extra hole in their midsection. Thus, the reason Selena stood where she was and didn’t try to escape her fate. A hole through her maidenhead was infinitely better than one in her back.

Countless times she’d dreamed of having the money and connections to join one of the many local Guilds devoted to promoting and using the magical disciplines to help others. Alas, she had neither. The only option open to her was the one that put her in her present predicament. She’d not see a farthing of the money paid tonight, nor would Madame Lucretia ever let Selena live down the years of deception. She glanced over at Lowry. His promises of untold wealth were no more than tarnished rainbows. If she threw her lot in with him, she’d be just as caged, just as much a prisoner, worse of all, just as used.

Lowry brushed her hair from her shoulder, exposing more of her neck and breasts to his hungry gaze. So sweet. So perfect.

His touch disgusted her. Made her want to lean over and bite him like a mad dog. If she managed to make it through the night, she’d not only be thankful for the rest of her days, but work on a way to be free of the Purple Papillon forever.

Over the years, she’d tried time and again to breach the door to the back alley, only to come across some spell or boundary that kept her from being able to turn the door handle in order to flee.

Despair formed a lump in her throat. The only times she’d been allowed to leave was in the company of Lowry or Madame Lucretia and accompanied by Jim Bonney.

Sounds from the auction room reached a crescendo.

They can’t wait to see you, Selena. Can’t wait for the chance to have you. He pressed his lips to her shoulder. Neither can I.

She shivered again. A knowing smile curled his mouth at the corner, reading it as desire. His eyes fairly danced with victory. If he thought for one moment she’d allow him to take her for his own personal whore after what he’d put her through tonight, he was one place setting shy of a banquet.

To top off the insult she’d not seen a man in the audience yet that she would consider worthy of the experience of taking her virginity. Dirty, old degenerates.

The clientele came in and did all manner of odd and questionable acts with the whores then behaved as if they were above reproach as they stood up in the courts or Parliament. The testament spoke loud and clear the fact every person wore more than one face—the one they showed the world and the one they kept private. Their type of glamour was confined to attitude rather than visage. A person need not have the power to throw magic to possess more than one face.

Don Conti, the master of ceremony for the night and Jim Bonney’s partner in crime, took to the stage. The audience grew quiet. Surely there weren’t that many men of society hungry to taste a virgin’s flesh? How many of them planned to bid and how many were there to watch their neighbors? Surely the men’s clubs would be rife with the gossip of tonight’s auction. Each telling the tale embellished like a harlot’s cheeks.

Selena glanced around her. She wasn’t the only resident of the brothel standing back stage. Several of the girls waited in the wings, laughing and pointing out at the audience. The prostitutes were dressed in scraps of lace, garters, and stockings. Their painted breasts jiggled as they laughed.

Don gave a discreet nod to the piano player, who gave an impressive flourish across the keyboard to gain the audience’s attention. When they quieted, he bowed to the gathered oglers.

Distinguished guests, welcome to the Purple Papillon’s performance hall. Before we get to tonight’s main item for auction, Madame Lucretia has graciously provided a variety of lots sure to titillate and inspire.

Selena didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated. It only prolonged the agony of the night.

Suddenly the air in the room shifted. Tension lifted her shoulders and her breasts felt heavy, nipples hardened. Selena looked across the room to a dark shadow that now stood along the far wall. She relaxed her vision to study him through the filter of her talent. Instead of the light from his aura she found only darkness, his features indistinguishable in the void.

A frisson of warning ran up her spine. Magic filled the hall and not just her own. Separate energies pooled throughout the room. Guild members? Judging from the level of society the guests circulated it was quite possible. If they could afford to bid on one woman’s virginity, they could very easily pay the price of a Guild membership.

The first item guaranteed to thrill is a performance by our very own and extremely popular Miss Madeline.

Madeline was a buxom redhead who had taken the art of fellatio to impossible heights—or so Selena had heard and on more than one occasion had been curious enough to watch through a hole in the wall. Though she’d found the experience most instructive, she hadn’t had an opportunity to ever put that knowledge into practice. However, the pleasure witnessed on the clients’ faces could best be described as sublime.

Madeline, dressed in a gossamer robe and little else, stepped out on the boards to whistles and catcalls. She sat on a chair placed center stage and took out a long piece of hard, pink, phallic-shaped candy and proceeded to entrance the audience with her performance. Her wet tongue and glossy lips worked the confection as if it were her only pleasure in life. Slowly she parted her legs and began to work her fingers over slick, female flesh. In a spellbinding grand finale, she tilted her head back and made the candy disappear down her throat before slowly pulling it back out again.

Don held out a hand to indicate Madeline who still lounged on the chair, showing her goods to the eager audience. A most fortunate sweet if ever I saw one. Who will be the lucky man to spend a night savoring the delights of Miss Madeline?

The bidding began in earnest.

The prices grew higher and higher. If they were willing to pay that much for an experienced whore, they would surely see a woman with maidenhead intact and her only real knowledge of lovemaking the stolen moments between cracks in doors, as not worth their money or effort.

Perhaps no one would bid on her.

And that was foolish thinking. There were always men who found erotic pleasure from being the first to plow a virgin field.

Don cracked the gavel on the platform and Madeline walked off the stage and plopped down onto the lap of an older gentleman who drooled down his shirt front and jacket as he lunged for her bosom.

Our next exhibit is for more exotic tastes. Four of the other girls standing backstage, chucked their robes to reveal nothing but their underbust corsets. They walked out onto the stage with arms linked. For your enjoyment, it’s the Purple Papillon’s version of a French Circus.

The girls fondled and sucked each other’s breasts. Tongues danced as they kissed each other with open mouths, shining wetly under the stage lights. In the confusion, it was difficult to tell whose hand grabbed whom, there were so many body parts writhing and slithering like sensuous snakes. Moans of pleasure from the girls rose and moved up to the rafters.

Which one of you stout-hearted men would care to join them in their act?

Hands began to rise all over the audience.

A slow burn began in Selena’s gut and flamed outward. Not from the erotic display played out on the stage, but from a pair of eyes gazing at her from the audience. How was it possible for anyone to see her tucked back behind the curtain stage left?

That particular individual wasn’t the only one craning their neck to see her. One man who sat up front with blond hair and an aura that shone with disgust at the proceedings, kept sending glances to where she stood. Selena backed up a step and the cold barrel of Jim’s gun dug into her waist.

The auction grew bawdier. Men began to shift in their seats, growing restless with lust. Scent and colors of desire painted the room in a cloud that hung over the audience. Selena saw it for what it was, and it made her tremble with a cross between craving and fear. A person would have to be devoid of passion to resist the temptation at the sexual display before them.

Now for a special addition to our auction before we get to the main lot. Don smiled in a knowing manner.

A young man no more than twenty and strikingly handsome walked out on stage. Selena didn’t remember seeing him before, but he had the face of an angel and a body as lithe and graceful as a dancer.

He did nothing more than stand there and stare into the crowd, his face a haughty mask of beauty and prowess. It was impossible not to stare back.

If you wish to bid on a night with Dante’s Inferno, you may do so privately.

The young man tipped his head to Don and walked off the stage.

Since when had Madame Lucretia taken to selling men? Selena wasn’t so naive that she didn’t know some men preferred to take lovers of the same sex. However, the laws forbid such a thing openly. Not only was the woman eaten by greed, but she flaunted her lawlessness in front of the whole of society.

Selena glanced back at Jim and noted his attention was no longer on her, but on a woman who had stepped in from the stage door, dressed in a floor length black cloak. She did nothing more than stand in the shadows and watch Selena.

You shouldn’t be back here, Miss, unless you want to be the next one put on the block. Jim’s threat had no effect on her other than a slight lift of her right brow.

Consternation filled Jim’s face. He seemed caught between throwing the woman out and keeping watch on Selena.

Lowry looked over his shoulder at the woman. His body stiffened, expression grew dangerous. I advise you to leave the premises.

"You do not frighten me, you vile little man, but take a word of warning. We will prevail."

Selena stood there speechless. She’d never heard anyone speak to Lowry Winfro in such a manner. If she hadn’t had Jim’s gun barrel in her waist, she’d have applauded the woman, then promptly ask for assistance in extricating herself from her current situation.

Lowry said nothing. He simply turned on his heel and strode away. Amazement had Selena’s mouth hanging open. The woman must have had some kind of power over Lowry for him to leave and not give Jim the order to shoot her. For Jim’s part, he’d turned decidedly red-faced. Strain shook his hand as if he tried with all his might to fire on her but hadn’t the strength to pull the trigger.

Darkness seeped from the shadows, a cold hand of death in a place of sin.

A low voice came from beside Jim. Take your hands off the lady and I’ll let you live.

Jim turned, gun upraised, eyes wide with fear. Who said that? Show yourself, you creeping bastard.

Something dark and soft was thrown over Selena’s face. She bashed and kicked at her attacker as an arm wrapped around her waist. The void reached out to grab her.

The null from the back of the room. He had her and was—what was he doing with her?

Sounds of running feet and shouts of outrage came from behind them. A slight jolt tussled her. Tingles not unlike what one might feel on their skin during a lightning storm moved from her head to her feet. She tried to rub the sensation only to find her hands manacled to her sides by a rather firm hold.

A crash of wood and whine of metal hinges sounded, muffled by the hood. Cool night air bathed her scantily clad form. Her nipples pebbled painfully.

She was thrown up and onto a leather seat. The entire conveyance rocked with the motion.

A scene out of time and place rose—fogged over by layers of time and nightmares. She pushed the memory away from her and tried to lunge for her attacker. The hood remained on her head.

She sputtered and choked and clawed at it with her hands. Another set, larger and heavier tried to push the hood back down. She slapped at him.

Stop it! I’m trying to help you. The deep voice raked over her tattered fear and plucked some hidden place in her heart.

A whip sounded and the clatter of horses’ hooves on cobbles echoed in the night. The report of a gun and wood splintering made her jump. Her attacker shoved her between the seats and covered her with his heavy body.

You’re crushing the breath out of me. Selena beat him on the back in an attempt to move him off her.

I’m trying to save you. Don’t you recognize a rescue attempt when you’re in the middle of one? Consternation at her actions filled his voice.

Selena stilled. Rescue? Who would want to rescue her? She knew no one outside of the brothel except Madame Lucretia’s business associates. They’d be more likely to want to abduct her for their own gain.

More gunfire. This time in the distance.

Her rescuer rose off her and slid to the side. He pulled the hood from her head.

Quiet tension hung on the air as if it held its own life force. Selena attempted to pick out the colors of his aura, but there was still only darkness. She had hoped he only concealed it, but there was nothing to hide. Sealed tombs gave off more distinction of aura than this man. All living things possessed auras, not only the gifted. The fact she couldn’t read his even in the dark made her distinctly nervous.

How could he be alive and not exude an aura? It presented quite the puzzle.

"Since you’ve rescued me, would you mind telling me your name and where you’re taking me?"

His eyes were hard to make out in the dark, and he’d yet to light the lamps inside the carriage. Do I have it wrong? Did you want to be sold like a prized heifer?

The very idea made her shiver. No. Of course not, but I don’t know if my fate is any more secure in your hands than that of the Winfros.

He pushed himself up from the floor and offered his hand to help her onto the seat across from him. You can call me Mr. Wilmont. I’m taking you to the North. Wickhamshire to be precise. There we will stay at Blackmore Manor, with his lordship.

And what if I say no? She made her voice as curt and crisp as possible under the circumstances.

Then I am prepared to place you on a ship bound for America.

Confusion coiled in her gut. So far? What have I done?

Mr. Wilmont started to reach for her, but pulled his hand back as if afraid to touch her again. Nothing. You’ve done nothing wrong, but I have reason to believe you’re not out of danger. In short, before you are two choices: to cast your lot with Lord Blackmore until the danger passes, or set off for America where it will be harder to trace you.

Selena let out a breath and glanced at the window. The curtains were drawn, preventing her from seeing their destination, but she heard the distinct sound of train whistles in the distance.

How long had it been since she’d been allowed outside the brothel where time wasn’t measured in hours and minutes, but by the number of clients who passed through the doors?

How long had it been since she’d been allowed a choice? None that she remembered.

She was free. Or at least away from the brothel.

And he was taking her to Wickhamshire. In the North.

If I agree to go with you, will I be allowed to leave when I want, or am I to be kept a prisoner? This she had to know before she made any decision. Either she placed her fate in his care and that of his master, or she trusted him to put her on a ship bound for America. For now, Wickhamshire sounded the safer bet. At least until she knew whatever intrigue the Winfros had plunged her into.

If you wish to go. He leaned closer, shrinking the space between the seats, placing his mouth very close to her ear. However, be warned. Once you see the beautiful vistas and smell the fresh air of Blackmore lands, you’ll never want to leave.

Chapter 2

A Fine Disaster

Wilmont took in a deep breath, enjoying the mild floral fragrance of Selena Marigold. Unlike the rest of the women at the Purple Papillon, Selena was as unspoiled as Madame Lucretia claimed. At least that’s what his heightened senses told him. They’d not failed him yet—accept maybe in finding the trail that led to Selena’s whereabouts in the first place.

He sat back in his seat and studied her, glad the spell that had transformed him into his current state had also provided him the ability to see well in dark places. The inside of the carriage had all the makings of a rather well-equipped tomb.

Power leaked from her entire body, the flavor sexual in nature. Not surprising after the blatant variety of erotic practices displayed on the Purple Papillon’s stage.

He made a fist in his lap, not wishing for her to guess at the level of his mental distress. Beauty radiated from her, working its way from the inside out. Too bad he had to lie to her in order to gain her compliance to travel to Blackmore Manor. He’d worry about the consequences of those lies when they arose. Not until. The important thing was she was once again where she belonged and not in the hands of the Winfros.

Still he hadn’t the slightest idea how she’d come to be in their keeping or for how long.

The fact the Madame of the establishment sold her as a virgin was not all that encouraging. He’d heard of the practice of inserting a ring with a length of sheep’s skin stretched across it into a woman’s vagina then selling her as a virgin. The thought was men paid dearly for the chance to be the first to plunge into an unused sheath.

Wilmont shifted on the seat.

Do not contemplate her in such a manner. Not until she knows the truth.

Then he’d let her decide, but first she had to learn to trust him to care for her. And how was he going to do