Mrs. Cambridge personally administered all punishments, but had employees of both sexes if customers preferred to do the whipping themselves. Men whose interest in the subject was strictly academic could watch for a modest fee.
Peregrine's personal opinion was that life inflicted quite enough pain and only a damned fool would pay for the privilege of experiencing more, but there was something rather touching about Mrs. Cambridge's pride in her work. When they left, he kissed the lady's hand and solemnly assured her that he had never seen a craftswoman with more respect for the tools of her trade. Charmed, she insisted on giving him a copy of a flagellation classic called Venus Schoolmistress, or Birchen Sports.
After stopping at a sporting establishment whose principal claim to fame was that the girls played cards and billiards in the nude, Weldon produced two black half masks for their visit to the homosexual brothel. They arrived just in time to witness a mock marriage. Under a lace veil, the "bride" was a strapping mustachioed fellow who looked like a grenadier sergeant, while the "groom" was a languid society gentleman half a head shorter.
Waiters wearing frilly aprons and nothing more circulated with trays of champagne. His skin crawling, Peregrine found a quiet spot where he could sip his goblet and watch his host circulate among the "wedding party."
He was congratulating himself on how well he was controlling his distaste when someone came up behind and caressed his arm. Peregrine whirled, his expression so fierce that the other man fell back with a stuttered apology. It took Peregrine a moment to master himself enough to offer a contrite nod intended to convey that his reaction had been surprise, not loathing. Probably he was not successful, for the man quickly disappeared into another room.
Fortunately Weldon suggested leaving after half an hour. When they were in the carriage again, he said, "I have saved the best for last. If you are not interested yourself, I hope you will not mind waiting while I am engaged."
"Of course not. You have been very generous with your time, and I can hardly be less so." In a tone of bored curiosity, Peregrine went on, "Which of tonight's activities would an English gentleman expect a wife such as Lady Sara St. James to emulate?"
There was palpable shock in Weldon's gasp. His contempt for ignorant foreigners obvious, he said, "No English gentleman would expect a lady to behave like the creatures we've seen tonight. A considerate husband would not inflict himself on a gently bred wife more than once or twice a month. Many men approach their wives only for the sake of having children."
"If that is how English gentlemen think," Peregrine said dryly, "brothel owning must be a very profitable business."
After a cold silence Weldon said, "If it is a business you wish to enter, remember that in England it's illegal for a man to live off the earnings of prostitution."
"As I said earlier, I have no interest in the day-to-day running of any business, even one so deliciously decadent," Peregrine said lazily. "That was merely a general observation. Now, what is this last treat that you have saved for me?''
"An establishment that specializes in young virgins. I would advise wearing the mask again when entering and leaving." Weldon smiled, his teeth a pale flash in the darkness. "Regular brothels are largely ignored, but reformers sometimes kick up a dust about houses like this one. It is wise to be discreet."
After a moment he spoke again, his words surging with excitement. "There is nothing quite so stimulating as a virgin. Knowing that one is the first to see, to touch, to possess..." He stopped, then gave a self-conscious laugh. "But I'm sure that you are as familiar with that pleasure as I. Isn't the Muslim paradise a place where a warrior is promised a harem of ten thousand virgins whose maidenheads regrow every night?"
"So they say, though I know of no one who can attest to the truth of that." Peregrine was not surprised to learn that Weldon considered their last stop the high point of the evening. Brothels specializing in virgins and children were the dregs of the prostitution trade, despised even by other brothel keepers.
He donned his mask as the carriage rumbled to a halt. When he climbed out, his nostrils flared at the familiar, distinctive smell of the docks. This was one of the most dangerous sections of the city.
After Weldon knocked on the door, a small panel slid open, and they were inspected before being granted entry. There was still another burly porter of the dangerous-looking type that seemed to be standard in London brothels.
This house's madam, Mrs. Kent, was a tall, sinewy woman with a thin mouth and cruel eyes. After greeting Weldon with familiarity, she said, "I've exactly what you like tonight, my lord." She glanced at Peregrine, then shared a meaningful look with Weldon. "And something special for your friend as well."