To the Highest Bidder (RedHeadPersephone x NightSoul)

[RedHeadPersephone]

Even among all the buildings in London, the Dempsey had character. It loomed over the street like some black-hearted villain, eager to snatch its prey. Every window was covered by thick, red velvet drapes and it was the only establishment that had a second entry door. Those who tried to peek inside the foyer only saw a small room with the real entry door on the far wall.

Lady Lucretia Moreshead never dreamed she'd ever see the inside of the Dempsey. It was a gentleman's only club, one that didn't even employ female servants. Women were not allowed anywhere near its hallowed walls. Had she tried to get in, she would have been refused.

However, being kidnapped out of Lord Edmond's garden during his most boring dinner party yet was not how she expected to see the Dempsey. Finding herself stripped nearly naked and shoved into a grand bedchamber was certainly not in her imagination. She had the strangest feeling she was being watched.

The door opened and man in a mask walked in. "You will not try to escape," he ordered. "Now, on your feet."

"What is going on? Why have you brought me here?"

"The Master brought you here. You are part of the auction. Now, stand. The bidders need to look at you."

Not sure what to do, Lucretia stood. She was paraded out of the room and into a larger room filled with men in masks. Forced to stand on a stage, she was subjected to the worst humiliations. Her chemise, her last layer of protection from their eyes, was torn away. She felt her face grow hot as the first masked man talked about her body as if she were a piece of meat.

"She will be waiting in her room. The bidding will start soon."

Lucretia fell on the bed and sobbed. She had a feeling she knew what was next. Someone, a gentleman of the nobility, would buy her like some common servant. Some man with whom she probably danced with at a party or knew by association would come in and harm her. Why would they do this to her? She was a lady!

Sniffling, she wiped away her tears just as she heard the door knob twist. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

 

[NightSoul-Allen80]

Deep inside the secret labyrinth that was the Dempsey, Alfred Ravensdale sat in a high back chair sipping at a glass of scotch. The amber liquid gently rolling past his lips and down his throat before he let out a sigh. Partly he was feeling impatient for the festivities of the evening to begin, but also he had some apprehension drifting about him. Alfred, although young by comparison to most other members who wandered about the Dempsey, had much to prove since recently joining the ranks of the elite.

He rose from his chair and straightened his jacket before donning the brass and silver mask that had been set beside him. He made his way from the private lounge to the auction area. This would be his first but he had heard that they managed to acquire all sorts to put upon the block.

When all was done he was handed a key and pointed to a door where his prize awaited. Upon the block the sight of her made him lose his breath and he had known then that she would be his, no matter the cost. Cost him it did. Two hundred and fifty thousand pounds he offered up, but it secured him the stunning creature that he witnessed stripped of her pride and dignity.

He placed the key in the lock and then turned the knob. The door creaked open slowly and he stepped into the room closing it behind him. His eyes landed upon his prize he head in the pillow upon the bed, she hadn't even bothered to try and cover herself as she lay there.

"Rise from the bed and let me see you," he spoke confidently and sternly. "I'll not have you lolling about like some worthless tart."

 

[RedHeadPersephone]

At first, Lucretia stared at the man at the door. He carried himself like the nobility, but he offered no reassurance. Her father always said redheads had the worse temper (something about her grandmother's Irish blood). At that moment, Lecretia's temper snapped.

"A worthless tart?" She stood up and marched over to him, forgetting that she was still naked. "I will have you know, sir, that I am a lady. Lady Lucretia Moreshead of the Davenshire Moresheads to be exact. I am not, sir, a tart. Worthless or otherwise!"

Crossing her arms, she continued, "If you had any decency in you, you would help me escape from here and we will never speak of this again." She tried to keep her composure, but as that first burst of anger started to fade, she felt less confident.

She looked at this man, trying to figure out who he really was. She was almost certain she had met him before, but it was hard to tell his exact features. With a mask on, he looked like so many other gentleman.

Shivering slightly, she quickly went back to the bed and grabbed a blanket. Wrapping it around her, she turned back to her capture. "Well? Aren't you going to get me out of here?" The longer he stood there, the less confident she was. His comment on her being like a tart stung her, and now it frightened her.

Dear god, he didn't think that she was just some strumpet for his amusement? For the first time, she realized how powerless she was. Even if she got out of the this room, where would she go? They had her clothes.