A Regency Courtesan's Pride: More Than a Mistress / The Rake's Inherited Courtesan. Ann Lethbridge
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was pure Merry and the second pro forma.
‘You must allow me to perform some service for you while I am here,’ he said just a little mischievously, thinking to test the waters.
Her eyes widened just a fraction as she considered his words. ‘What might you have in mind?’
He grinned, and the sparks were once more hovering in the air. Attraction and interest. Not the searing fire of the previous evening, but it wouldn’t take much to set it ablaze.
‘How about a sleigh ride?’ He pointed to the equipage stored behind her phaeton.
‘In this weather?’ She glanced out into the courtyard.
‘When it clears.’
‘All right.’
He hesitated. ‘Merry, I conversed with some unusual young women this morning. In my chamber.’
She frowned. And then gasped. ‘Beth and Jane.’
‘I didn’t get their names. However, they seemed very obliging.’
‘They didn’t’ She covered her mouth with her hand.
His lips wanted to smile. He held them in check. ‘No. They didn’t.’ But they would have, and she knew it.
‘Oh. Oh, dear. I must apologise. They are housemaids in training. I should have told them to leave your room to Brian.’
Housemaids in training. A new twist on an old profession. She must have seen the disbelief in his face. ‘I will speak to them,’ she said stiffly. ‘And if the weather breaks, we will go for a sleigh ride. In the meantime, I have some business affairs needing attention.’
He imagined she did—but which business?
‘In the meantime,’ she said breathlessly, ‘please make free of the library where you will find books and a nice warm fire.’
They stood in the doorway, looking out at the world turned into a white desert, the house barely visible in a sudden flurry of snow. He inhaled. She was right, snow did have a scent all of its own. Why had he never noticed?
He took off his muffler and wrapped it around her neck and up over her mouth and nose. ‘Then at least let me escort you safely back to the house.’
Over the top of the scarf laughter spilled from her blue eyes. She looked like some Far Eastern princess, saucily peeping out from behind a veil. Or she would, if not for the manly driving coat and the man’s felt hat.
He grabbed her hand, tucked it beneath his arm and they began the trek up the hill. He liked the feel of her leaning on him for support. She wasn’t a fragile flower of a woman, but there was absolutely no denying her femininity.
And today she was acting with the propriety of a duchess. He had the strong urge to unravel the puzzle he’d found. And part of that was learning who might want to cause her harm.
He barely noticed the icy fingers of wind tearing at his coat, or the snow cold and wet on his face, because for the first time in a long time he was doing exactly as he pleased.
Merry hurried along the corridor. She knew why she was hurrying. It had nothing to do with talking to the women and everything to do with escape. From him.
Not because she was attracted to him, because that part she could handle. Indeed, it was rather pleasant being looked at with desire. But it was the other part that caused her unease. Every now and then, when he looked at her with those intense dark eyes, she had the feeling he could see her innermost thoughts, whereas he seemed to hold himself very much at a distance because he really didn’t approve.
The sooner he was gone the better.
She pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked the door to what had once been the nursery. Voices from an open door let her know where she would find Caro and her charges. She entered the day room. Caro faced the two women sitting at desks along with Thomas, Caro’s six-year-old son, writing his letters on a slate. The women each held a book. Beth was reading, slowly sounding out the words. She stopped the moment Merry entered.
Looking at the two women, one would never guess their original profession. Their faces shone with good health and cleanliness. They wore the modest practical clothing of the women who worked at the mills.
‘Good morning, ladies,’ Merry said smiling.
‘Good morning, Miss Draycott,’ they chorused.
‘Good morning,’ Caroline said. Her gaze held curiosity. Wondering about last night, no doubt.
‘If I could have your attention,’ Merry said, to the room at large. ‘Because of the snow, we have a guest at Draycott House. I gather you ladies met him this morning. I think it would be best if you remained in this wing until his departure.’
Beth giggled.
Jane frowned. ‘Ashamed of us, then, are you? Is that how it’s to be?’
Heat stung Merry’s cheeks. Jane was not the easiest woman to deal with, despite the fact that she’d sought out Caro’s help on her own account. Jane had come north from London and was far more worldly than Beth, or the other girls they had rescued. And she’d appointed herself as their leader. The other girls had fled after the fire—Jane and Beth were all that were left of the soiled doves they’d been trying to help.
‘I am not ashamed,’ Merry said firmly. ‘It is for your protection. I don’t know this gentleman very well and I do not want any misunderstanding.’
Jane curled her lips. ‘She wants to keep him all to herself, that’s what it is.’
‘Enough, Jane,’ Caro said.
Jane sniffed. ‘I don’t care about no fancy man. What I wants to know is when do we get a proper job, instead of cleaning your grates?’
In other words, was her meeting successful? The townspeople had called the house in town Draycott’s whorehouse and had thrown bricks and stones through the windows. Finally a torch had been thrown, starting a fire and forcing them to flee. The meeting yesterday had been supposed to bring the other mill owners over to her side.
The two women looked at her hopefully. ‘It’s bloody awful here,’ Jane said. ‘No shops. Nought to do ‘cept readin'.’
‘I like it,’ Beth said stoutly. She’d grown up in the country. Most of the other girls they’d rescued were town girls, daughters of shopkeepers and millworkers who had taken a wrong turn and been cast out on to the streets to make their way as best they could. All had turned to the oldest profession known to women.
When Caro, who had narrowly missed turning to the same calling out of desperation, had proposed Merry use her money and her influence to help some of these women, Merry had readily agreed. She hadn’t expected the resentment of the community. They seemed to believe the presence of these women would taint them and their families.
They’d driven the girls off.
She glanced over at Caro, who looked sad, but offered a supporting smile. ‘I wasn’t able to meet with them yesterday.’
Jane’s mouth turned sullen. ‘Too busy enjoying yerself with yer fancy man.’
‘He is a gentleman,’ Merry said. ‘He provided me assistance on the road and he will be leaving as soon as the snow is passable.’
‘Gentlemen are the best,’ Beth said, as if repeating a lesson by rote. ‘They’s polite and don’t have no pox.’
‘'Course they do,’ Jane said.
Caroline rapped on her desk with her ruler.