A Good Debutante's Guide to Ruin by Sophie Jordan Page A

them in. A footman stepped forward to take their cloaks. She resisted the impulse to cover herself with her hands. Her skin had never felt so much air before. “This way.”
    They followed him down a narrow corridor that opened up onto a larger room. A crowded room. At their arrival, heads turned to assess them. Avid, hungry eyes. She shifted her weight. As uneasy as she felt to find herself under such scrutiny, she was not the only female dressed so scandalously.
    In fact, heat crawled up her throat as her gaze arrested on one female sitting on a sofa, squashed between two gentlemen. One kissed her whilst the other suckled at her bare breasts.
    She and Aurelia stood frozen, eyeing the decadent scene.
    â€œLadies.” A well-­dressed woman in an elaborate peacock-­feathered mask approached. She took Aurelia’s hands warmly in her own. “So glad you could attend this evening. You both look lovely. So glad to see the dresses fit you so charmingly. And the wigs . . . very becoming. And this must be your friend.” She turned a smile on Rosalie. “Hello, I’m Mrs. Bancroft.”
    â€œDelighted to meet you.” Rosalie tried to smile, but her gaze continued to dart about the room at so many ­couples caught in amorous embraces.
    â€œThis is our sitting room, where everyone meets and greets each other,” the proprietress explained. “There are several more specialized rooms throughout the house.” She hesitated, surveying what must have been their astonished expressions. A female from some corner of the room let out a screech.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Aurelia asked. “Is she unwell?”
    Mrs. Bancroft laughed. “Oh, she is quite well.” Still grinning, she turned. “Come, my two wide-­eyed little birds. Let us begin with baby steps, shall we? There is a room that might suit you on your first time here.”
    Rosalie released a grateful breath and followed Mrs. Bancroft and Aurelia from the room, sidestepping a man’s hand that reached for her as she bypassed him.
    In the quiet corridor, Mrs. Bancroft led them up another set of stairs. “We have private rooms upstairs for, as I mentioned, specialized activities as well as private assignations. Whatever penchant, we aim to satisfy here.”
    As they cleared the landing, Mrs. Bancroft motioned to the right. “These rooms are for those private assignations I mentioned.” She motioned to the left and bid them to follow. She opened the door to a dim room suffused with deep red light from two red-­screened lanterns. A large window opened to another bedroom where two ­people copulated.
    â€œOh, my!” Rosalie whirled around, presenting her back.
    Mrs. Bancroft chuckled lightly. “This room is for ­people who like to watch. Don’t worry, this ­couple enjoys being observed . . . they crave an audience.”
    â€œI—­I don’t think I want to see this,” Rosalie hastily murmured.
    â€œGood heavens,” Aurelia breathed, facing the ­couple, her eyes enormous in her face. “I—­I . . . I had no idea . . .”
    â€œI think one of you appreciates the view,” Mrs. Bancroft murmured with a wry twist of her lips beneath her vibrant mask. The mask was elaborate and riveting and almost the sole point of focus in her face. For some reason, in that moment Rosalie suspected that Mrs. Bancroft valued anonymity as much as they did. Very curious indeed for an owner of a house such as Sodom.
    The proprietress fully faced Rosalie then as Aurelia continued to watch the scene through the window with her mouth agape. “What is it you hoped to experience tonight? Everyone’s desires vary . . . they come to Sodom for different reasons. What is your desire, my dear?” Her voice was throaty and low, an intoxicating purr that simultaneously enticed and put one at ease. Rosalie could only imagine that served