Chapter 4
Max tried to focus through the haze of blue-tinged pipe smoke that blanketed the tavern. Loud, coarse voices and the chink of glass and pewter on countertop and table further dulled his senses. He’d had only a couple of brandies, but surely his eyes were deceiving him for it couldn’t be possible that the young woman who’d just slipped into the booth opposite him was Miss Lilywhite.
Touting for business? That wasn’t the way she operated, and surely not the way Madame Chambon’s operated?
Not that he wasn’t pleased. Thoroughly delighted was more apt, perhaps. His groin ached with want at the very sight of her, and he had to remind himself of his pledge to swear off loose women. Forever. Respectable, willing women were a different matter, and he’d availed himself of a number of those over the years at opportune times. Last night, however, was the first time he’d paid for the services of a prostitute, and he didn’t intend doing so again.
“Miss Lilywhite, what a surprise,” he said, beckoning to the barmaid, for the least he could do was offer her a drink. “How did you manage to hunt me down here?”
Max cast his very interested gaze the length of what he could see. Miss Lilywhite was dressed more like one of these new office workers in her dark-blue woollen skirt and white blouse with its demure collar and cuffs, her rich brown hair simply coiffured with one ringlet falling over her shoulder from beneath her pert blue hat. Nothing like the siren he remembered. Although a woman in a place like this was unusual, no one would give either of them a second glance and yet, last night, writhing in a pool of lust and sweat as he’d exorcised himself of the need for sexual release, she’d been the siren of his dreams. Exquisite face. Soft, white, voluptuous body. Inventive repertoire.
He smiled his admiration. “I must say, I simply would not have recognised you.”
“I hardly imagine you would have. A woman like me needs to know how to dress and behave if she’s to get on in life. As to hunting you down, I’ve shown no more ingenuity there than your aunt with whom I’ve just dined at Claridge’s. I paid a boy a few coins to tell me where to find you.”
“Good God! My aunt surely didn’t find you at—”
“Don’t worry; she doesn’t know where I live, and she doesn’t know what I am. Tea was very pleasant, and her blissful ignorance remains intact.” Miss Lilywhite smiled serenely at his horror. “However, I did feel it important to let you know that she is labouring under the misconception that you are madly in love with me and wish to marry me. Apparently, it is her greatest wish that she facilitates this, despite the fact I am clearly only a…”
Max waited, and saw she was enjoying drawing out the suspense of what his aunt actually believed Miss Lilywhite to be. “A poor shop girl fallen on hard times with a respectable enough family. I think your grandfather’s expected opposition might have fuelled her enthusiasm.”
“I’m impressed at your perception, Miss Lilywhite—and for taking the trouble to inform me.” He felt at a bit of a loss here and was glad of the interruption of the waitress who’d just set down another brandy for Max and a cider for his companion.
“Naturally, I have no expectations of becoming your bride, Lord Belvedere, or even further association with you,” she said smoothly, her smile indicating her amusement at his momentary loss of composure. “Your aunt is a charming woman; I liked her immensely! And she has only your best interests at heart. I’d certainly not see her disappointed, so I merely thought it best to let you know that whatever you’ve inadvertently said to give her such a false impression should be rectified.” Her smile broadened as she raised her glass. “I’m curious, though. How did my name come up in conversation between you and your aunt?”
Max grinned. “Not through anything pertaining to the truth, I can tell you that much. No, I was trying to deflect her from finding me an alternative bride by pulling up the first name that came to mind, and telling her I’d been madly in love with this woman but realised the impossibility of a union which is why I’m off to Africa in three weeks.”
“I do hope you’ll make a return visit to Madame Chambon’s establishment before you go.”
Max felt truly regretful as he shook his head. “I’ve sworn off—” He stopped himself in time, but she took no offence, merely threw back her head so that her lovely, swanlike neck was more in evidence and laughed. The image was such a modest and charming re-creation of last night’s spectacular sexual gymnastics that he felt himself heating from head to toe all over again.
“You’ve sworn off immoral women like me, have you? Well, that’s a different discussion.” Miss Lilywhite didn’t seem the slightest bit put out by his less than gentlemanly insinuation as to the type of woman he considered her. “But what do you intend telling your aunt in order to rectify this problem? I don’t want her landing on Madame Chambon’s doorstep and being exposed to loose, immoral women. It would be distressing to her, to you, and to me.” She put her head on one side, and in that moment, Max thought her the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. Her skin was like alabaster. He’d thought it last night as he’d run his hands over its nakedness, and he thought it now in the coarsest of daytime situations. Her eyes were like two glittering sapphires. What he admired as much, though, was her vivacity and her lovely humour. Not to mention her compassion. Anyone who showed such consideration towards his beloved aunt was a thoroughly good person.
Thoughtfully, he ran his fingers across his lower lip, not realising for a few seconds that he was yet again reliving last night when she’d done the same to him. And how much he’d liked it!
“You’re a good actress, you say, Miss Lilywhite? Were you acting last night?”
“What?”
“Acting? When you were in bed with me? Surely you haven’t forgotten already?”
To his amusement, she blushed. Sudden and fiery as she glanced at the noisy table beside them rather than meet his eye, though she didn’t seem embarrassed when she returned her gaze to his face.
“Last night is not what is under discussion; however, in the interests of telling the truth, which I like to do whenever it is at all possible—since, so often, it is not—I thought you the most exciting and desirable of any gentleman who has ever crossed my threshold, and I’m deeply regretful that this is the last time we shall meet. Now, what is under discussion is what you wish me to say in order to cause the least distress possible to a charming old lady who is clearly very innocent, unworldly, and wants only the best for her favourite nephew.” She clasped her gloved hands upon the table and smiled at Max, who was feeling unaccountably churned up by her earlier revelation so that he was barely attending when she added, slowly, as if he were a simpleton, “What do you want me to say to Miss Thistlethwaite if she contacts me again?” Then, even more slowly as he still hadn’t found the right response, “Please attend to me, Lord Belvedere. I shan’t see you again and I promise not to follow you, so now is your only opportunity to ensure I do my part to curb your aunt’s wild flight of fancy. We need to ensure our stories align.”
Max blinked. Her words had had a very odd effect on him, as if he were opening himself up to a world of impoverishment if he didn’t see her at least one more time. She really was quite captivating.
“You’re very impatient for an answer, Miss Lilywhite, considering this has all come as rather a shock, and fellows like me are not known for making their greatest romantic gestures under stress.”
She sat back and took another sip of cider. “I’d hardly put this in that category, but I’ll wait. I’m in no hurry to get back to Madame Chambon’s. It’s a rare afternoon off so I’m rather enjoying it with preferred company.” Her lips turned up in that delightful, half-amused way that made his insides tingle with want. But he couldn’t be rash about this. Of course he couldn’t. He was off to Africa to fulfill his greatest desire now that he’d at last been granted his freedom.
“You might not put this in the category of a great romantic gesture, but I do. Aunt Euphemia’s heart beats as passionate
ly as it ever did, and I’d not be the one to disappoint her.”
“So, you want me to cry off? To tell her I have no wish to marry you? That would end it cleanly, I suppose.”
Oh no, he didn’t want her to do that at all. It would finish the matter far too peremptorily, he realised, when he was having rather a lot of fun right now. So he was surprised at how pleased he was when she added, “Unfortunately, it would come across as rather odd for a mere shop girl to throw away such a material rise in fortune, not to mention being suddenly and completely at odds with the glowing terms I used to describe you only a few hours ago.”
“Glowing terms? Oh, I do like the sound of that. Tell me what you said.”
She tapped her forefinger thoughtfully on her glass. “You already have a healthy opinion of yourself, Lord Belvedere. And I’ve already bolstered it. I’m not sure I want to enlarge any further.”
“What if I started by telling you that I think you are the most stunning creature I’ve ever had occasion to meet, and I’m disappointed that any further association with you would kibosh my lofty intentions towards virtue. Besides which, as I’ve mentioned, I won’t be around too much longer.” He flashed her his most winning smile for he truly was impatient to know how Miss Lilywhite had described him to his aunt.
“And is that the truth, Lord Belvedere?”
“I like to tell the truth when at all possible.”
“As do I, as I’ve said. All right, I told her that I thought you the handsomest and most considerate of any gentleman who’d ever crossed my threshold—bearing in mind she thinks I work in a shop—and that I’d immediately lost my heart to you upon first sight.” She looked a little embarrassed. “And that every time you walk into a room my heart beats as loudly as a drum, and I have to exercise all my self-restraint to continue whatever polite conversation I’m involved in so as not to rush across the room and kiss you thoroughly. Oh, she did enjoy that! I could see how much she wanted to hear you talked up to the stars and I really did gild the lily. You should have seen how pink she went and how delighted to find me as ardent an admirer of your virtues as herself.”
“Kindred spirits, eh?” He grinned. “Miss Lilywhite, you said you like to tell the truth when possible. Tell me how much was merely embellishment for my aunt?”
“Very little, really. But I’ve already made it clear how much I like you. That’s no secret. Nevertheless, we’ve strayed from the matter under discussion since it seems you only want your head turned. What. Should. I. Tell. Miss Thistlethwaite?”
“What should you tell Miss Thistlethwaite?” he repeated slowly. He sighed as he smiled fondly at the thought of his aunt though Miss Lilywhite’s words were still working a considerable effect upon him. “Darling Aunt Euphemia is the world’s greatest romantic, and nothing would please her more than to see me marry. Preferably someone poor and unsuitable—yet totally ravishing, like you—if only to spite her brother, since it was he who denied poor Aunt Euphemia the husband of her choice.”
She looked tender when he said that, as if she were capable of caring, when just a moment before he’d been impressed by the flash of fire in Violet’s eyes when she’d rebuked him for changing the subject; for talking of last night. She truly was beautiful, and she appealed to his senses on all levels.
“I think the easiest is to just go along with it.”
“Just go along with it?” She looked as if he were mad. Her eyelashes fluttered and her lips pursed. Over her shoulder Max could see several other young women of similar age to Miss Lilywhite. They might have turned heads if they were not competing with the beauty in front of him. They certainly were not as adept at striking the right note. Miss Lilywhite seemed to know how to rise to any occasion with just the right degree of charm and admirable self composure. She was undeniably a talented actress.
“You’re clearly not kept under lock and key in that house of ill repute or you’d not be here. And I’ll pay you for your time, if that’s what you’re worried about?”
She blinked rapidly. “Lord Belvedere—”
“Call me Max, please. We’re engaged.”
“Alright. Max. But we’re not engaged!”
“We are for the purposes of making my darling Aunt Euphemia happy, my dear Violet. I can call you that since we are engaged. She only has a few months to live, don’t you know? You heard her cough, I suppose?”
“Yes, she coughed, but it didn’t sound as bad as all that. Not like she was at death’s door.” Violet’s mouth was pressed together into a tight line, and she was looking at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses when really, what he proposed was seeming more sensible by the minute.
“Well, I hope you’re right and she’s not going to die, Violet. I’m sure you hope that, too, since you said you liked her.”
“Well, clearly I’d be delighted. But we can’t carry on a ridiculous charade forever. And you’d have to set a wedding date. And there’d be guests and—”
“Yes, I know how weddings work. I’ve been involved in these preparations for months. I’ve been a marked man for years. Yes, for years it’s been the assumption that Mabel and I would marry, even though no one consulted us until I was prodded into making it formal.” It made him feel ill with relief at how close he’d come—yet survived. “And yes, we’ll set a date.”
“And it’ll be a second wedding for you that doesn’t go through? With all due respect, I don’t think this is going to fill your Aunt Euphemia with the kind of joyful rapture you fondly imagine it will.”
“Of course we’ll go through with it. It’ll be hush-hush. Just you and me and Aunt Euphemia and a couple of witnesses. A sham wedding. We’ll pretend that we’re off to the Continent, only I’ll then embark for Africa and you can go back and do what you do, and everyone will be happy.”
She looked disturbed by this when Max was suddenly feeling considerably pleased and clever. What a marvellous way to spend his last three weeks in England. He’d be making the greatest gesture possible towards Aunt Euphemia, who deserved so much for her maternal care of him all these years; he’d be adding to Miss Lilywhite’s coffers in the process since she was, after all, a working girl who’d taken herself out of the marriage market by virtue of her profession so needed whatever coin she could to keep body and soul together.
“I fear it will not be as simple as you make it sound, Max.”
“Nonsense!” he exclaimed, touching her cheek as he’d been wanting to do for some time now in order to remind himself of her softness. “We simply need to ensure our stories align, as you said.” Yes, he was doing this for the happiness of his aunt, he reminded himself, as he added, “So, let’s say we find somewhere quieter and more private to do just that.”
Chapter 5
Violet was conscious of the looks they received as she swept along the pavement, Max by her side. He was tall and handsome and she, although plainly dressed, had always received her fair share of admiration.
It had been a blessing and a bane her entire life. It’s how she’d stumbled, then fallen into a profession that sucked dry all goodness from her soul.
It’s why she was here, now, with a man who made her blood fizz in her veins like champagne as she contemplated the direction ‘aligning their stories’ might take.
“This is the house,” she said after a few minutes’ walk, indicating a tall, four-square residence set back from the street with a neat brick path leading to a black front door. Neat, respectable, and discreet.
And owned by a woman, equally so in each respect, who asked no questions as she handed them a key in exchange for Max’s coins.
Violet didn’t even blush. There was little point in false modesty when she was destined for hell anyway.
“Do you come here often?” he asked as they mounted the stairs.
“I’ve never been here.” She raised one eyebrow at his subtle quizzing. “My friend, Charity, uses it all the time though, as a place to meet her young man in private.”
“My, my, he
sounds accommodating.”
“He was her first client.” They’d reached their room at the end of the corridor, and Violet waited as Max inserted the key. She wanted to stroke the back of his head as he bent slightly. Instead, she added, “His grandfather had been horrified to learn his grandson was a virgin at twenty-three and so funded an educational evening at Madame Chambon’s. Charity was also a virgin, so little help apparently. But they’ve been desperately in love for the past eighteen months. He pays most of his allowance to keep her exclusively. He’s waiting until he comes into his inheritance when he turns twenty-five, so he can set her up properly. In the meantime, he brings her here whenever he can.”
“A veritable lovers’ nest.” Indeed it was, Violet saw as Max threw open the bedroom door and they were met by the sight of a large, cushioned four-poster beneath a canopy of cream, gauzy bed hangings. The room was not large, but big enough to also accommodate a rose-velvet sofa by a merrily crackling fireplace.
“It has everything but the draughts board,” Violet said on a soft laugh as she looked at the empty side table. But her insides were churning. She was achingly conscious of the man beside her, and she shivered in anticipation as she felt his fingertips slowly stroke her neck.
“I don’t think I’m in the mood for draughts this evening.” His voice was hoarse.
“Nor I.” Violet heard the wanting in hers.
There was no need for words as she sank into his embrace. The cologne-imbued musky scent of his skin and the caress of his breath upon her cheek were all she needed to arch her neck and give him access to the buttons at her throat.
“You kiss very well, Lord Belvedere,” she whispered as he worked the fastenings loose, and with commendable dexterity, slipped his hand into her bodice, then insinuated it beneath the layers of her underpinnings to cup her breast. Tingles of excitement charged up her spine as he fondled the nipple, at the same time as removing her jacket while Violet worked at her skirt fastenings.
Fair Cyprians of London Boxset: Books 1-5: Five passionate Victorian Romances Page 52
