Fiery Harlot Seduced by a Duke

by A D James

  “Do you old boy.” Robert stared at him in surprise. “I thought it was only me.”’

  Charles sat up in his chair. “Let’s not wallow in misery.” He dismissed the images in his head. “But in gratitude.” He raised his glass. “To our brave comrades.”

  “Brave comrades.” Robert topped up his brandy from the decanter. “No wonder men go ape drunk when they return from war.”

  “I must admit since we came back.” Charles stared at the flames flickering around the log. “There has been an explosion of wine, women and debauchery amongst the young bucks.”

  “And I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.” Robert knocked back his drink in one go.

  “On the subject of fine wine,” Charles remarked. “Shall we adjourn for lunch?”

  “What a splendid idea.” Robert stood up from his chair. “I have a proposition to make to you.”

  Chapter 9

  Molly looked out into the tavern and checked that Tommy was still serving customers and keeping the marauding sailors in order. As she returned to the small room adjacent to the bar, Mary was contemplating her proposition.

  “Isn’t a courtesan a high class harlot?” she remarked, in between hungry bites of a cheese sandwich.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Molly huffed as she poured out more ale. “There is plenty of capital to be made from the venture.”

  Capital for you, Mary mused to herself.

  “..With the right gown and accessories you would certainly fit the bill.”

  “I suppose I would,” Mary replied with a downcast expression.

  “I cannot understand your vexation?” Molly put her tankard to one side and cut another slice of bread. “Considering your present occupation you look remarkably well.” She looked down at her hour glass figure. “You have a good body and I believe no diseases?”

  Mary looked away embarrassed by her comment. “You can put your mind to rest in that area.” She bit her lip with a pressing concern in her mind. “I do have one misgiving about you’re venture?”

  Molly pursed her lips. “What might that be?”

  “How do I behave around upper class people?” Mary touched her face with a worried frown. “There are many things to consider. How do I address a Lord? What kind of conversation should I engage in?”

  Molly was getting more annoyed by her reluctance in the matter. She slowly drank her ale deep in thought. Another streetwalker would of jumped at the chance of being a courtesan no questions asked.

  The trouble with this girl she was pretty and clever – but then that was her attraction.

  “Well.” She banged her tankard on the table. “If you’ve worked as a governess for a middle class family it shouldn’t be a problem.” She dapped her mouth with a handkerchief. “You should know how to engage with educated people.”

  “But how do I converse with rich, spoilt, aristocrats?” Mary bluntly replied. “They come from another world.”

  More questions, Molly mused. Maybe she wasn’t courtesan material after all. She stood up from the table and looked into a small mirror on the wall. “Lord Clarksons clients’ are not much different to middle class people.”

  She noticed a small blemish on her skin. “They also like to talk about books, art and music.” As she applied loose white powder to her blemish she observed Mary’s reflection in the mirror.

  “A clever harlot will use her brains as well as her body.” She put the loose powder to one side and applied a pomade to her lips. “If she conducts herself with the right manners and etiquette she will become a mistress.”

  Mary began to understand her meaning. She had received a degree of education and could talk and about most subjects, particularly, art and books which she had a special interest in. “Will I get a reasonable fee?”

  “A fee?” Molly turned around with a haughty expression. “I do not disclose fees with harlots, that is left to Lord Clarkson’s discretion.”

  She sat down at the table and put her pomade and powder in a small bag. “However you will receive enough money to put food on the table and have a roof over your head.”

  Mary wasn’t impressed by her remark. “But I’m already doing that as a street walker? If you’re clients are wealthy gentlemen shouldn’t my fee be a little higher?”

  Molly accidently dropped the bag on the floor. “You ask a lot of questions for a common street walker.” She picked it up with a scowl on her face.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to be difficult.” Mary felt she had gone too far. “I’m just trying to understand the proposition you have proposed to me.”

  “There are other ways to be paid for your services.” She stood up from her chair and gestured towards the door. “Come upstairs I will show you the benefits of being a courtesan.”

  Mary wondered what she meant as she followed her up the stairs into a small bedroom at the back of the tavern.

  The room was lavishly furnished with silk curtains, a plush four-poster bed, exquisite Persian mats and a mahogany dressing table and wardrobe.

  “What a beautiful room,” Mary gazed around in awe. “I didn’t expect to see this in a tavern.”

  Molly pulled out a velvet-upholstered chair from the dressing table. “Sit there I want to show you something.” She opened the wardrobe door and looked through a rack of dresses. “Like I said there are other ways to get paid as a courtesan.”

  Mary’s eyes lit up as she pulled out an expensive blue ball gown. Molly walked over to her and draped the silk gown over her lap. Mary ran her hand over the fine silk material. “Would I really get to wear a gown like this?”

  “If you do want your client demands.” Molly gave a coy smirk. “You will acquire a number of gowns and accessories.”

  Mary fingered the fine lace. “Do I keep the gowns?”

  “Yes that is your fee.”

  “I see.” Mary finally understood how it worked. “And jewellery?”

  “Once you’re a mistress.”

  She smiled to herself, she had found a substantial way to get out of London for good; away from the vice and crime of the sordid alleyways she was forced to work in.

  She looked up to Molly with renewed purpose in her life. “When do I start?”

  “Don’t be obnoxious, it’s not up to you,” Molly glared down at Mary. “Lord Clarkson will have the final word on the matter.” She pulled up her chin. “Unfortunately for you he prefers younger girls.”

  Mary’s heart sank she couldn’t compete with 15 or 16 year old girls. At one past twenty she was beginning to feel her age. Mary pulled her face away from her. “But surely my training as a Governess would interest him?”

  “It will go in your favour for his older clients.” Molly swept the gown from her lap and returned it to the wardrobe. “However his final decision will be based on your manners and appearance.”

  “I fear that my age will go against me.” Mary looked down at her drab woollen dress, her dream of dressing up as a lady in a fine ball gown was quickly evaporating.

  “There is one Lord I know that might consider an older harlot.” Molly locked the wardrobe door and turned around to face her. “He would give you fine clothes and some jewellery, if you exchange steamy encounters with him.”

  “Whatever he desires,” Mary replied, determined to acquire as much capital from the transaction. If she got some jewellery she could pawn it and maybe sell the odd gown or two.

  “Before we see Lord Clarkson I will have to fit you out with a new dress.” Molly played with her hair. “I will also get some accessories for your hair.”

  Mary began to wonder if she was doing the right thing. Many young girls had been used and abused by older Lords – could she endure such an ordeal?

  Maybe it was better to stay as a street walker. She could come and go as she pleased in an area she knew well. If she had a bad encounter with a sailor or a young merchant she could run away.

  But could she do the same trapped in a plush bedroom of an opulent estate?

  �
�Well,” Molly announced. “Do you want to see Lord Clarkson?”

  Mary remained quiet she would not be rushed into a decision. She knew Molly was trying to trap her into another life of vice. “I’m not sure.”

  “Not sure!” Molly folded her arms in disgust. “You won’t get this chance again young lady.” She walked over to the window and saw a young street walker being man handled by two drunken sailors. “If you stay on the streets you’ll be dead in six months.”

  She turned around from the window. “But if you’re clever you might get an old Duke who would set you for life.”

  She saw a glimmer of hope in Mary’s eyes; she was coming round to the idea. “Imagine having your own place with a large wardrobe of fine gowns. Your face adorned with the most exquisite jewellery.”

  “It seems too good to be true.” Mary stood up and brushed down her drab dress. “‘I’ve never heard of a harlot getting a duke.”

  “It happens all the time.” Molly took her pelisse from a hook on the wall. “But the harlot is disguised as an actress.” She pulled on her coat. “Only the very pretty or the very cunning harlot gets her foot in the door.”

  “I think I could do it,” Mary said to herself. “I’d be a fool not to take this chance.”

  “That’s more like it.” She took hold of Mary’s arm. “Come on girl, we have some shopping to do.”

  Chapter 10

  Charles summoned the servant for another bottle of claret as he finished a delightful Blancmange de la vanilla. It was the final dish of a sumptuous meal with a diverse selection of dishes; such as sweet meats, fish, poultry, vegetables, and a range of biscuits and desserts.

  Charles watched his dear friend as he devoured the last mouthful of savoury jelly. With a satisfying lick of his lips, swiftly followed by a glass of wine he gave a contented yawn.

  “What an excellent meal?” Charles remarked as the manservant left freshly opened claret on the table.

  “My sentiments too,” Robert replied. He raised his glass in the air. “I make a toast to the company of a most distinguished friend.”

  “To distinguished friends.” They clinked their glasses with a laugh.

  “As your honourable friend,” Charles said. “May I submit a request to you?”

  Robert leaned back in his chair. “And what does the request refer to?”

  Charles clasped a napkin with his hand. “I would dearly love to be invited to your wedding!”

  “Wedding!” Robert sat upright. “What are you talking about, I will never marry.”

  “Poppycock!” Charles dapped some wine from the corner of his lips. “How can you possibly avoid it?” He narrowed his eyes. “Women are devious creatures to behold, whether they are young or old.”

  “What is your meaning Sir?” Charles remained silent as two servants cleared the dishes from their table. When they had left the room Robert repeated his question.

  “You’re the last scoundrel to remain single.” Charles viewed him with a cynical eye. “How have you avoided marriage for so long?”

  Robert propped his chin up with his hand. “I’ve never thought about it. ”

  “I’m sure you have.” Charles clasped his hands over his knee. “How many times have you attended a season packed with dances, balls and dinners?”

  “Too many.” Robert’s eyes glazed over. “The thought of another one would send me to bedlam.”

  “Because a calculating mother behind the scenes is ready to trap you with a virtuous young daughter.”

  “I don’t mind taking her virtue,” Robert smirked. “But I will never be tied to one woman.”

  “How do you do it old boy,” Charles remarked with a look of admiration.

  Robert returned a reassuring smile. “I’m never in one place for too long.”

  “You can’t escape the clutches of a virtuous young woman forever.”

  “I will have to go on a grand tour abroad then,” Robert quipped.

  Charles let out a weary sigh. “Didn’t we do that during the Napoleonic wars?”

  “We certainly did.” Robert fell quiet for a moment. “A grand tour of bloody battle fields.”

  “There is one place you’ve never been..Italy.” Charles’s face lit up. “It’s a wonderful place. The culture, the food and wine.” A twinkle emerged in his eyes. “And the most exotic women you have ever seen.”

  “Unfortunately I have no money to fund such a venture.” Robert banged his hand on the table and accidently split some wine across the tablecloth. “Oh damn.”

  “Things must be bad if you can’t afford to do a grand tour?” Charles summoned a servant to clean up the mess. “Is your mother forcing your hand?”

  Robert was startled by his comment; did he know about his debt? He folded his arms with a solemn look to Charles. The men quietly watched the servants replace the soiled tablecloth with a fresh one before they resumed their conversation.

  “What is it Robert?” Charles wished his friend would open up to him. “Friends should never have secrets.”

  “Maybe they should,” Robert said sarcastically.

  “No they shouldn’t, we all have our problems.” Charles bent forward with a whisper. “We’re all in the same boat. Babies out of wedlock, gambling debts or the horror of getting out of a duel.”

  He nudged him with his elbow. “We keep each other afloat with the right connections and the odd loan and wager.”

  A servant returned with a wooden platter on the table filled with a variety of biscuits, cheese and crackers.

  “Well I’m quite happy to stay in the boat.” Robert took a cheese knife and scoped one of the cheeses in his mouth. “And avoid every rich, spoilt heiress on the planet.”

  ‘”As long as we don’t all go under.” Charles viewed him with a steely gaze. “I think Lady Emily Mountford has thrown you a life line.”

  “A life line to hell,” Robert fumed. “The spoilt brat spends her days complaining about everything.”

  “Look, play the game. You know its all keeping up appearances in this world.” Charles placed a piece of cheese on a cracker. “Tell people what they want to hear but follow your own agenda in private.”

  “It’s hard to play mind games with a rich woman.” Robert drew his finger along the platter of cheeses. “One that has learned a few devious behaviours herself.”

  Charles slowly crunched the cracker in his mouth. “I used to be a debt ridden womaniser.”

  “Pray this is a jest.” Robert looked up from the cheese board. “How many moons ago was that Charles?”

  “Too many to count.” He leaned forward on the table. “Do as I did.” He looked around the club for any ear wigging Lords. “Marry a rich woman and get her pregnant with a baby as soon as possible.”

  “Right away?” Robert questioned.

  “Yes a heir and a spare and keep the family at your country estate.” Charles leaned back with a smug expression. “Keep you’re London townhouse for yourself and indulge in a spot of gambling and the odd mistress.”

  “You have the perfect life Charles.” Robert spread some cheese on a biscuit. “One day I will acquire a similar betrothal.” He munched the biscuit deep in thought. “Unfortunately, I cannot pursue any agenda until I fulfil my mother’s ultimatum.”

  “Ultimatum,” Charles queried. “It sounds serious.”

  Chapter 11

  “She found out about my massive gambling debt.” He glared at Charles. “I don’t know where she got the information from?”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Charles threw his hands up. “She didn’t find out from me.”

  “Someone must have told her.” Robert stared him in the eye. “Was it you?”

  “Steady on old boy what are you accusing me of?”

  Robert got up and walked towards the door.

  “Where are you going?” Charles demanded.

  Robert turned the knob of the door. “To find someone who can help me with my debt.”

  “We can’t par
t like this.” Charles stood up with a forlorn expression. “We’re supposed to be friends aren’t we?”

  Robert felt guilty; maybe he was being too harsh. “I’m sorry, I spoke out of turn.” He let go of the door and paced around the room. “I have a confession to make. My mother was never aware of my gambling until my father died.”

  “Never?” Charles exclaimed, as he quietly listened to his friend.

  “My father paid off my debts in secret.”

  “Lucky you,” Charles said. “No wonder you’re bereft by his death.”

  “I don’t have that safety net now. My Mother has always been very strict about our finances.” A dark shadow crossed his face as he sat down in his chair. “I love her dearly but I fear that her health has deteriorated since his death.’

  “And the burden of your debt might hasten her demise.”

  Robert put his head in his hands.

  “Now I understand you’re dilemma.” Charles pulled up his chair. “What is the ultimatum she’s given you?”

  “If I don’t pay the debt off in 30 days, I must marry Lady Emily Mountford. Her dowry will pay off my debts and set me up for life.”

  “And then your dear Mama can die in peace.”

  Robert blinked back some tears.

  “There must be some way out of this.” As Charles pondered on his problem one man came into his head. William Wade. “I think William could help you, he’s a resourceful chap.” He looked over to the door for a servant. “He might know of a quick scheme to make money.”

  “The Duke of Sussex?” Robert looked up with a glimmer of hope. “I didn’t know he was a member?”

  Charles looked back at him. “You know each other?”

  “Yes.” He sat up with a renewed purpose. “We were in the same year at Eton.”

  Charles called over his manservant. “Tell the Duke of Sussex we will meet him in the billiards room at 3.”

  ****

  “They were great days at Eton,” Robert recalled with William over the billiards table. “I still have the bruises from all those rugby games.”