To Seduce a Bride tcw-3

by Nicole Jordan

  “Of course I don’t mind. You have done the same for me numerous times.”

  Lily smiled, glad that her obligations would be taken care of. And their elderly butler, Simpkin, could be trusted to look after Boots and the kittens. She would say farewell to the felines before she set out for London this afternoon.

  At the thought, Lily felt a swell of anticipation bubble up inside her. Living with Fanny’s Cyprian friends should indeed prove an interesting adventure.

  And in the meantime, she wouldn’t be bedeviled by a handsome, devastatingly charming nobleman or have to worry about fending off his unwanted, thoroughly bewildering desire to court her.

  Chapter Three

  I cannot believe that Lord Claybourne found me, and worse-that he still means to court me!

  – Lily to Fanny

  London, two days later

  “I wish we could send that dastardly villain to Hades,” Chantel Amour muttered as she daintily sipped her tea.

  “He is not quite a villain,” Fanny replied dryly. “He is simply a keen businessman. And he wants payment for the debt you and Fleur incurred in his gaming hell.”

  Fleur Delee gave an elegant sniff. “You cannot believe Mick O’Rourke is anything less than odious, Fanny. Not when he is coercing you to pay or else he will lay charges against us to send us to debtor’s prison.”

  “I never said he isn’t odious. Just that we are in this fix because you gambled away a fortune you didn’t have.”

  “But O’Rourke plied us with brandy and encouraged us to play deep at the Faro table,” Chantel complained. “I have no doubt he arranged the entire episode because of you, Fanny. He wants you to agree to be his chere amie.”

  Fanny pressed her lips together. “I know what Mick wants, but he won’t get it. We will just have to think of another way to repay him.”

  Lily looked on as the three friends argued. When she’d shown up unexpectedly on the doorstep of Fanny’s London home two days ago, she had been welcomed without much protest once she explained about needing to escape Lord Claybourne’s unwanted attentions. An hour later she was settled here in the boardinghouse run by Fleur and Chantel.

  To Lily’s surprise, the mansion was quite large and unexpectedly elegant. She’d been given her own bedchamber on the third floor and invited to use the owners’ private sitting room on the floor below, as well as the communal drawing room and the two small parlors on the main floor.

  This afternoon the four of them had gathered in Fleur and Chantel’s private sitting room in order to discuss possible ways of earning enough money to repay the enormous gaming debt they owed.

  Watching the women together, Lily had no trouble seeing the tremendous affection Fanny bore the aging courtesans. Reportedly they had taught Fanny everything they knew when she first entered the trade eight years ago, so she was determined to help them now.

  Lily could also understand why the former Cyprians were once considered the toast of London. Though Fleur’s auburn locks were now unnaturally aided by henna dye, and Chantel’s blond tresses somewhat concealed the liberal strands of gray, they were still fascinating women, despite their faded beauty. Lily found them exceedingly warm and charming, although a trifle dreamy-eyed and scatterbrained. It seemed to her that they spent most of their time lamenting their lost allure and reminiscing about their bygone glory when they had reigned over the London demimonde.

  In the past two days, Lily had heard countless stories about their long-ago conquests, as well as the details of how they had come to be in such dire straits now: They’d spent a disastrous night at the Faro tables at Mick O’Rourke’s gaming club and lost nearly forty thousand pounds.

  Fanny, of course, had come to their rescue and paid off a quarter of the debt-ten thousand pounds, almost every penny she had saved-but they still owed the enormous sum of thirty thousand pounds. And they were exceedingly worried now, since O’Rourke was threatening to send them to prison.

  He had offered to forgo the debt in exchange for Fanny’s exclusive services as his mistress, but she was loath to accept. Fanny had a history with O’Rourke, since he’d been one of her first patrons when she set out on her career as a courtesan. But even though they once were lovers and he had since made a vast fortune by pulling himself up from his harsh, low-class origins and making a success of his gaming club, he refused to show leniency toward her friends.

  Which was an unforgivable sin, to Chantel’s mind. She had always viewed O’Rourke as uncouth and loutish, but now she considered him downright dastardly.

  “I should think,” Chantel mused aloud, “that you could apply to one of your current protectors for the funds.”

  Fanny shook her head. “Even if one of my gentlemen were inclined to such munificence-which I very much doubt-it would leave me uncomfortably obliged to him.”

  Lily had heard Fanny’s rationale before this. She never allowed any of her patrons exclusive privileges, since she didn’t want anyone having such power over her; for if her lover abruptly decided to end their arrangement, he could cut her off without a penny and leave her scrambling for her livelihood.

  Lily could sympathize with her friend, since she herself was adamant about never giving any man control over her own fate.

  “There is another possibility, Fanny,” Fleur said, biting into a biscuit. “You could sell your memoirs.”

  “No, that is not possible.”

  “What memoirs?” Lily asked curiously.

  Fanny gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don’t even wish to discuss it.”

  Fleur leaned forward and whispered in a conspiratorial tone to Lily, “A publisher has offered to pay dearly for Fanny’s memoirs if she will share titillating tales about her illustrious clientele.”

  “We are not that desperate,” Fanny responded.

  “I cannot fathom why you won’t at least consider it,” Chantel added plaintively.

  “Because the sale would only cover part of your debt. More importantly, even if I wished to expose my former patrons in that distasteful way-which I do not-my memoirs would take time to write, and Mick has given us only one month, a concession he made very reluctantly after much pleading on my part, I might add.”

  “But have you considered,” Fleur interjected, “how lucrative it could prove if you chose not to expose your lovers? There must be quite a few gentlemen who would pay handsomely to be left out of your recollections.”

  Fanny’s gaze narrowed on the older courtesan. “You mean blackmail, do you, Fleur? That is totally out of the question. Not merely because it is unprincipled, but because I don’t want to make enemies of London’s elite set. Were I to do so, I could find it difficult to remain employed.”

  Fleur offered a graceful shrug of her shoulders. “Well, I do not see how we are to come about if you insist on being so virtuous. Beggars cannot afford to be choosers, Fanny.”

  “I am not reduced to begging yet,” she said tartly.

  “It is a pity our boarders cannot help us,” Chantel lamented with a heavy sigh.

  Fleur’s scoffing sound was very much like a snort. “Indeed. But they earn a pittance compared to what we once did.”

  “Because they haven’t our former skills or our former beauty,” said Chantel.

  “Or our refinement,” Fleur added sagely.

  Chantel gave a sad nod.

  Lily comprehended what they meant by a lack of refinement. There were over a dozen female boarders lodging in the mansion, all from the lower classes, some who were just beginning to become established as members of the muslin company, or demimondaines, the polite term Chantel insisted on using instead of prostitute or harlot. Of the girls who roomed here, the majority were opera dancers and actresses who supplemented their meager incomes by becoming part-time mistresses. But several sold their wares in various clubs and pleasure houses in the nearby theater district.

  Fleur and Chantel, on the other hand-and Fanny also-could claim superior birth and breeding, which had allowed them to exce
l at their profession and command a much higher class of clientele.

  Looking despondent, the elder courtesans fell silent, until Fleur finally mused aloud. “What we need are some very rich men to come to our rescue.”

  “That goes without saying,” Chantel agreed. “But how do we acquire such men? You and I have lost the ability to attract wealthy patrons.”

  “Alas, that is true. But several of our lodgers are beautiful enough to take our places. With the right guidance from us, they could be groomed to act in our stead.”

  “But what would be the point?” Chantel asked dismissively.

  “Don’t be such a slow top, love,” Fleur chided. “If some of our boarders could land rich protectors, they could help us pay off our debt to O’Rourke.”

  “But how would they even meet any rich protectors?” Chantel huffed. “Such prizes are not scattered about waiting to be scooped up, you know.”

  “Of course not, but some could be found if we search hard enough. Just consider, Chantel. We could hold a soiree just like the old days. And we could invite everyone Fanny knows. She has valuable connections among the ton, and we still have a few ourselves.”

  For more than two decades Fleur and Chantel had reportedly held elegant soirees and entertained the cream of artistic and intellectual London society, even though they now no longer entertained at all.

  “Well…I suppose we could hold a soiree,” Chantel answered. “But the effort would be futile, since our boarders will never become more refined.”

  Fanny suddenly sat up as if her interest had been piqued. “Perhaps it would not be impossible with the right tutor.” She cast a glance at Lily. “Do you think you could instruct some of our boarders in the social graces, Lily? Just as you do at your Academy for Young Ladies?”

  Lily’s brow furrowed. “Why do you ask?”

  Fleur’s expression also brightened as she regard Lily. “Because, darling,” Fleur explained, “our boarders need cultivation if our plan is to succeed. Demireps from the lower orders cannot easily attract wealthy noblemen or gentlemen. Members of the Quality want refinement, not bawdy manners and coarse speech. The girls here would have been drummed out of our former soirees the instant they opened their mouths.”

  “Yes,” Chantel chimed in. “Wit and charm are important, but proper diction and accent are crucial. Those and deportment are the biggest handicaps preventing them from acquiring wealthier protectors.” Breaking off, Chantel suddenly stared at Lily as well. “Could you teach our girls, dear?”

  Lily found herself frowning as she considered the question. The idea of helping young women sell themselves to rich men unsettled her more than a little, yet she didn’t want to refuse outright. “Perhaps. It should not be much different from the academy my sisters and I started three years ago. We teach girls from the merchant classes how to become more refined and ladylike, so they can hold their own in genteel society.”

  “It might solve all our problems,” Fleur admitted with enthusiasm.

  “Is there some other way for them to help you repay the debt?” Lily hedged.

  “Not such an enormous sum.”

  Lily couldn’t dispute her. Respectable jobs as servants earned perhaps ten pounds per annum. Even the most elite positions open to women-housekeepers of large estates, governess to wealthy families-rarely paid more than fifty pounds.

  “There is always my settlement,” Lily suggested. When all three women looked blankly at her, she expounded. “The funds Lord Danvers settled upon me at my emancipation from his guardianship. It amounts to twenty thousand pounds, Fanny. You are welcome to have it.”

  Giving a little gasp, Chantel clapped her hands together in delight. “I knew you were a right ’un, Lily darling.”

  But Fanny frowned. “I could never take your money, Lily.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you have plans for those funds. In any case, your fortune isn’t enough to satisfy the entire debt. We would still owe Mick an enormous sum, and you would be destitute again.”

  “I suspect Roslyn would gladly share her portion.”

  “Perhaps, but I have no intention of asking her. You both were virtually penniless three years ago, but now you are finally able to afford an independent life of your own. I won’t spoil that under any circumstances.”

  It was Lily’s turn to frown. “Fanny, if you think I will let you enslave yourself to a man you don’t even like simply so I can spend a fortune I never expected on jaunting all over the globe, you have gone completely daft. What kind of friend would I be?”

  “You know you have always wanted to travel.”

  “So I have, but the circumstances have changed. You need the funds far more than I do.”

  Fanny smiled faintly. “Thank you, dearest. I will consider accepting if the situation becomes truly dire, but not until then. Seriously, Lily, I believe Fleur’s idea of helping our boarders to acquire wealthy patrons would serve far better. Raising their station holds such tremendous advantages for those girls, I’m certain they will agree to help us pay off the debt in exchange for the exceptional training we can provide. So what do you say? Could you teach them to speak and behave with more gentility?”

  Lily pursed her lips in thought. Manners and deportment were certainly not her forte. She was far more at home coaching the Academy’s pupils in sporting activities such as riding and archery, and physical skills such as dancing. But she could manage if the girls were willing to learn.

  “Will your boarders be willing to apply themselves?” she asked.

  “I have no doubt they will.”

  Her reticence must have continued to show, however, for Fanny murmured, “It is asking a great deal of you, I know. You needn’t help if you are uncomfortable, Lily.”

  “No, of course I want to help,” she said quickly, trying to control her squeamishness at participating so directly in the courtesan trade. “It is just that I wonder whether your boarders will be amenable to your plan to find them new patrons.”

  Intervening, Fleur offered Lily a sympathetic glance. “Our girls will be delighted to land rich men, darling, take my word for it. And you will be doing them a good turn. If they can attract a higher class of clientele, they can earn significantly better livings.”

  Lily nodded, knowing it wasn’t fair to deny her help because of her own conflicted feelings. “Then we should begin at once.”

  The elder courtesans looked relieved, while Fanny smiled her thanks. “The question is, can we make sufficient progress in the next month?” she asked Lily.

  “I believe we can if they are agreeable to attending classes for several hours a day.”

  “Good, because a month is all the time we have. We can perhaps put Mick off for a bit longer after that if we can convince him the debt will soon be repaid, but he could very well act on his threat to have Chantel and Fleur thrown in prison. So what do we do?”

  Lily’s brows drew together as she considered the problem. “I think we should conduct lessons in elocution and grammar to improve their improper speech, and in grace and deportment to improve their manners. We can use the drawing room as our main classroom, and we can clear one of the parlors to provide enough space for dance instruction… But if we want to move quickly, I should begin devising a curriculum at once.”

  She glanced up at Fanny. “And it would be best if we divide up responsibilities. I can teach your boarders a number of useful subjects, but you and Fleur and Chantel could advise them on things I know nothing about, such as conversing with prospective patrons.”

  “Yes,” Fanny agreed, “that would be wise. I can also send some of my servants here to assist with the additional workload, and my dresser to help the girls acquire suitable gowns to wear at the soiree.”

  “And I know Tess Blanchard will be glad to help,” Lily said. “I also think we should ask Basil to teach diction.”

  Fanny’s expression instantly shadowed. “Whyever would we ask him?”

  Lily raised an eyebrow
at her friend’s curt response. “Because he is a Latin scholar and can speak four other languages as well. If anyone can teach proper speech, it is he. Moreover, he lives here.”

  Basil Eddowes was one of their few male lodgers-a tall, gangly young man about Fanny’s age who clerked and translated Latin for a prestigious law office in the City. Although Lily hadn’t seen Basil in four years, he’d been her bosom friend when she was a girl. Fanny also knew him well, since they’d all been neighbors in Hampshire together during their childhood.

  The trouble was that Basil and Fanny had been at loggerheads ever since she’d taken up her scandalous new life. He severely disapproved of her occupation, which made it strange that he would choose to board here with so many fallen women, where he would be obliged to see Fanny whenever she visited the house, which was frequently.

  “Basil is so disagreeable,” Fanny said in a dark tone, “he will likely refuse just out of spite.”

  “Let me ask him,” Lily offered.

  “You may try, of course. He will be more willing if the request comes from you.”

  Fanny was still speaking when Fleur rose abruptly. “It is settled then, so we had best get started. Chantel, come with me. We will find the girls and discuss our scheme with them. And then we must begin planning the soiree. It will be such a pleasure to have an entertainment to look forward to.”

  Obediently Chantel stood and followed her colleague to the parlor door, but before she left, she glanced back at Lily. “We are delighted you have come, darling. Already our prospects are looking much brighter.”

  Lily returned a tentative smile. “I only hope we can make it work.”

  “It will, I feel sure of it.”

  When the two older women had gone, Fanny eyed Lily over her teacup. “Are you truly certain you want to involve yourself so intimately in our problems?”

  “Yes, of course,” Lily said at once. “I am happy to do it.”

  She was more than willing to try to help Fanny and her friends. And more importantly, she wanted to help the young women she had met during the past two days to improve their lot in life. Even if she had qualms about the purpose of the soiree, tutoring them in speech and deportment was a worthy goal and might allow them opportunities for respectable jobs that they could never hope for otherwise.