Damn, he had described Elizabeth. He gulped his second glass of whisky down fast. “No, it’s not a problem.”
“Do you like your women submissive? Domineering? Or maybe playful is your desire.”
“Whatever you feel is best for me,” Will replied, wanting this process to be over. He just wanted to thrust inside a pretty woman and get Elizabeth out of his head.
“All right, if you do decide submissive is your preferred way, there are ties attached to all the beds.”
“Wonderful,” Will remarked.
“Very well, then. I shall check to see if she is occupied yet.” Lady Whitely rose and gracefully walked out of the room.
Will glanced around the garish room and wondered what the other men in the place were doing here. He chuckled softly. He knew exactly why they were here. The same reason he was—to forget someone.
He poured another glass of whisky, hoping the alcohol would numb his mind and heart to the ache he felt. Forgetting Elizabeth was the only option. She had lied to him, manipulated him, and never loved him. Everything she had done had only been for herself.
Or had it?
She had attempted to flirt with him in order to stay in the house, but he’d seen right through her. He’d known what she was doing and never stopped her. She also insisted his sisters have a Season, something he never would have allowed. She hadn’t used her wiles to get him to agree. She used logic. And she had been right that in order for them to be accepted, they needed to make their bow and join in the festivities.
Elizabeth had also asserted the boys needs for a tutor to keep them up with their studies. Again, she was right. And every night they were home, she read to Sarah before bed. Those didn’t seem to be the actions of a selfish woman. He couldn’t imagine Abigail doing any of those things for his siblings.
He sipped his whisky, noticing the first affects of the drink. His mind felt slightly fuzzy. Had she really manipulated him?
Thinking back to that day in the music room, he only remembered her pain at telling him about her father. If she had truly wanted him to stay, she could have insisted on marriage after they had finished. His honor should have insisted upon marriage, regardless of her misgivings. Why did she think she’d manipulated him?
He drank down the rest of his whisky. He wanted nothing more than to slip into a stupor for the night.
Lady Whitely walked back and sat down next to him with a smile. “She needs a few minutes to ready herself.”
This was a foolish idea. He should leave, return home, and attempt to get sober.
Elizabeth and Sophie enjoyed a small dinner and then returned to the salon to talk. For two days now, Elizabeth barely touched her food, her stomach tied up in knots all the time. She had not heard from Will but truly hadn’t expected to. Her real disappointment was that Ellie and Lucy had not tried to contact her. Perhaps Will had convinced them that she was a horrible person.
All she wanted to do was go to bed and forget about this day. But Sophie insisted on talking…again.
“Elizabeth, do you honestly believe you only slept with the duke to keep him in England.”
“Must we discuss this again?”
“Yes. I just don’t believe it,” Sophie said.
“What do you mean?”
“I have been thinking about this. Is there a chance you decided there must be a reason you succumbed to his charms, so you invented this excuse?”
Elizabeth relived that day. She’d been so distraught about her family and the late duke, and being with Will felt so wonderful. “I was scared, Sophie. If he returned to Canada or America, I would have been left alone…again.”
“You have been alone before,” Sophie commented.
“Not like this. After falling in love with him and his family, I feel so lost not being with them.”
Suddenly the front door hurled open and Lord Somerton stepped inside. “Sophie! Where the bloody hell are you?”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “In here, Somerton.”
Lord Somerton raced into the room and looked over at Elizabeth. “Thank God.”
He strode toward her and pulled her out of her seat.
“What are you doing?” Sophie exclaimed.
“She needs to come with me.”
“Why?” Elizabeth and Sophie said in unison.
Somerton stared at Sophie. “He is at Lady Whitely’s.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “Oh, my. How did you find out?”
“She sent a footman to inform me.” He looked over at Elizabeth again.
“This must be her decision,” Sophie said to him.
“Dammit, we don’t have time for this. Lady Elizabeth, do you love Will?”
“Yes,” she admitted quietly.
“Will you do whatever it takes to get him back?” Somerton demanded.
Get him back? Did she ever have him to begin with? She had no idea. Maybe this would help her find out.
“Elizabeth, you will always be considered the duke’s daughter. No matter what happened,” Sophie said, “you love him. Go get him.”
Somerton stared at her as if his patience had just about run its course. “Will you do whatever it takes to win him?”
“Yes.” Elizabeth felt as if they were speaking another language, yet they seemed to understand each other perfectly. “Please, what are you both talking about?”
“The duke is at Lady Whitely’s,” Sophie started.
“Who is Lady Whitely? I have never heard of her before,” Elizabeth said.
“Lady Whitely runs a…a…” Sophie looked over at Somerton for assistance.
“She runs a brothel,” he said simply. “And Will is there right now. If you don’t get over there, he might make a huge mistake.”
A brothel. Will was at a brothel. “Why?”
“I shall explain in the carriage,” Somerton said. He looked at Sophie. “You owe me far more than a name for this one.”
“You might be right,” Sophie said.
Elizabeth picked up her bonnet and walked out to the carriage with Somerton. A ripple of fear stopped her cold. She knew so little about the man she was about to be alone with in the carriage.
“What is wrong now?” Somerton asked in an impatient tone.
“I…I should not be alone in the carriage with you.”
Somerton laughed soundly. “That is the least of your problems, Lady Elizabeth. You just agreed to enter a brothel, and you are worried about being in a coach with me.”
She had not thought about it that way. “I actually have to go inside the brothel?”
Somerton held out his hand to help her inside the carriage. “Yes, my dear. Assuming you wish to save him from making a huge mistake.”
“I do,” she answered.
“All right, then. Lady Whitely is currently keeping him occupied with a little whisky and conversation. You will enter through the servants’ entrance and someone will escort you up to a private room.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
Somerton groaned. “I really don’t need to tell you that, do I?”
Elizabeth looked at him and shrugged.
“Seduce the man. Please tell me you know how to do that.”
Heat crossed her cheeks. Hopefully in the dark carriage, Somerton would not notice. “Of course.”
“Damn. You don’t know what to do.” Somerton leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling of the carriage. “Entice him, Elizabeth. Make him want you so desperately, he’ll tell you anything.”
She didn’t rebuke him using her given name when she knew she should. “How?”
“Lady Whitely will provide a very revealing gown. Flaunt your assets. Let him see what he is missing.”
“But he will know it’s me. He’s so angry with me that he will most likely dash from the room once he sees me.”
“Good point. I will make certain Lady Whitely provides a mask for you to wear. Keep only a few candles lit so the room is dark. Do not let him take off the mask until he rea
lizes what a huge mistake he has made. Let him grovel at your feet for forgiveness.”
Groveling is what she should be doing, not Will. “What if this does not work?”
“Would you rather not try? Go back to Sophie’s never knowing if you could have made this work?”
The carriage slowed to a stop and as Elizabeth glanced out, she realized they had come to a standstill directly in front of Victoria’s home. Her friend had never spoken of a brothel being next door. Perhaps Victoria did not know about it. This wasn’t an area normally filled with brothels.
“I will continue with this plan,” Elizabeth finally answered.
“Good,” Somerton said, then climbed down. He held out his hand for her. “I will make sure one of the girls tells you the best way to seduce him.”
“Wonderful,” she replied as she walked alongside him. Now she would be getting lessons from a strumpet. How had her life gotten to this point?
She kept her head down as they walked to the servants’ entrance. Hopefully Victoria would not glance outside and notice her. They walked inside a warm building with the sound of voices coming from upstairs.
“Welcome, Lord Somerton.”
Elizabeth turned to look at the woman who had called Somerton’s name in such a seductive voice. Her mouth gaped. The woman’s red gown had a slit up to her mid-thigh that opened wide with every step.
“Good evening, Venus,” Somerton said.
He knew this woman? The man was more depraved than she had ever realized.
“Lady Whitely asked me to assist you in any manner necessary,” the woman said.
“My friend might need some womanly advice on the art of seduction.” Somerton stepped toward Venus with a smile.
“I do not think that will be a problem,” Venus replied with a coy smile. “Come along with me.”
Elizabeth walked toward the woman and then glanced back at Somerton. He gave her an encouraging smile.
“Win him over, Elizabeth,” he said. “Make him grovel.”
She had no idea how to manage that feat. She followed Venus up to the third floor where there were only three rooms. As she walked past one room, she could hear the moans of a man, and a woman urging him on. When they reached the next room, Venus stopped and opened the door.
Elizabeth entered the room expecting to see it covered in gaudy red velvet. Instead, the bed was covered in a white lace coverlet, the two chairs were pale blue velvet, and the rug a collection of blue and green flowers. It did not look much different from any lady’s bedroom.
“This is the virginal room,” Venus said with a laugh.
“Virginal?”
“It is for the young men who come here for their first time, or couples who need to put a little excitement back in their marriage. They can be two different people here.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth answered, trying to sound more worldly than she felt.
“It’s not your first time, is it?” Venus ambled to a linen press and opened the doors.
“No.”
“Good. Do you prefer white, black, or red?”
“For what?” Elizabeth asked as she walked over to the linen press.
“Your gown.” Venus’s gaze roamed from Elizabeth’s head to her toes. “Personally, I think the white would make you fade away. The red is too garish, but the black is perfect.”
“Very well, the black one.”
Venus pulled out a gown much like the one she wore. Elizabeth stared at the fabric, wondering what would be used to make it so sheer.
“Turn around, and let me help you.”
Elizabeth waited while Venus helped her undress and put the daring gown on.
“Oh, my,” Elizabeth exclaimed as she caught sight of herself in the cheval mirror. The bodice fell into a V shape, exposing more of her breasts than anything she had ever worn. A slit raced up to her hip, showing all of her leg as she walked.
Venus stared at her. “You need something more,” she decided. “It’s your hair.”
Elizabeth’s hand went to her head. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s far too formal for such an occasion.” Venus walked toward her and pulled a few pins from Elizabeth’s upswept style. Then Venus drew a few strands down around her face and neck. “Now the mask, and you shall be all set.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes as Venus placed the mask over her face. When she opened them, she could not believe her eyes. If she didn’t know it was her reflection, she would not have recognized herself.
“So, how do I seduce him?” she asked aloud.
“That, my dear, is the easy part.” Venus went to the chairs and placed a bottle of something on the table in between them. “He drinks whisky. When he comes in, have him sit there while you pour. As you do, make certain the neckline of your gown gapes open a little more, so he can see the merchandise.”
“The merchandise?”
“Your tits,” Venus said with a laugh. She cupped her own and said, “These are your best assets in this business. They determine if you are a Covent Garden whore, or an earl’s mistress.”
But Elizabeth did not want to be a mistress. She wanted to be a wife. Will’s wife. “Any other advice?”
“When you sit across from him, let him see your privates. It drives men mad.”
With the slit in her gown, that would not be hard. She imagined the slit would easily slide to the right and open up in front of him.
“Don’t look so pale. Perhaps you should have a little rouge.”
“No. I shall be fine.”
“You will be great,” Venus said with a smile. “Just remember, make him grovel.”
Chapter 27
“I believe it is time to go upstairs,” Lady Whitely said seductively.
Oh, hell. Will hoped she wasn’t thinking he was interested in her. At this point, he really wasn’t interested in anyone. He should return home and forget about this day. Maybe in time, he could forgive Elizabeth. And if not, he would have to forget about her.
Not that it would ever be possible. Forgetting Elizabeth would be as hard as forgetting his own name.
Suddenly, Lady Whitely was pulling on his hands to get him to his feet. He should protest but the whisky seemed to have addled his mind. He followed her like a puppy dog up two flights of stairs.
She opened the second door and whispered, “Enjoy.”
Will walked into the room and blinked. After all the red furnishings, this room was a welcome surprise. The scent from the room vaguely reminded him of Elizabeth.
A small sound alerted him to someone standing behind a blue chair. Slowly she walked forward, her entire body silhouetted by the candles behind her. She was dressed in a sheer black gown that could never be worn outside. Even from this distance, he could see the round globes of her breasts, her nipples erect and waiting for his mouth. Between the room smelling like her and this beautiful woman looking like her, he realized he was in too deep.
A seductive smile lifted her lips upward and a part of him lifted, too. He could not want her. She wasn’t Elizabeth. But she looked so much like her that his body didn’t seem to care.
“Take off the mask,” Will ordered. He knew seeing her fully would finally dampen his desire. And he really did not want to want her.
“No. Lady Whitely told me the mask stays on the first time I’m with a customer. Why don’t you come over here and sit down. I shall pour you a whisky.”
Her alluring voice was like a siren’s call to him. He seemed unable to stop his feet from moving across the rug. Her gaze ran the length of him but paused as she noticed his erection.
As soon as he sat, she bent over the decanter and her full breasts bounced forward. He groaned softly. She handed him a crystal glass with whisky.
“How did you know I drink this?” he asked.
She laughed softly. “Lady Whitely knows her customers’ preferences.”
“What is your name?” That would do it. Hearing her name would stop him cold.
“What do yo
u want it to be?” she replied coyly. “I can be whomever you desire tonight.”
Will gulped his whisky down. “Elizabeth,” he whispered.
“What?” She sounded surprised.
He should never have said that aloud. Calling her Elizabeth was almost as bad as being here in the first place. He placed his hands on the arms of the chair to lift himself up. “I should go.”
“No.”
Since when did he listen to prostitutes? But he quickly sat back down.
“Why don’t you tell me why you want to call me Elizabeth?” she whispered.
Even her voice reminded him of her. What did he have to lose by telling her this? “I love her.”
In the dim room, he barely noticed that her eyes widened behind the mask.
“You do? Then why are you not with her?”
“We argued,” he said. They hadn’t really argued. She had been trying to explain what she had done.
“Do you want her back?” The enchantress let her legs slip apart, allowing him a view of her damp folds.
He gripped the arms of the chair, trying not to embarrass himself. “No,” he lied.
She stood up and walked behind his chair. Her soft lips kissed the sensitive spot right behind his ear. She skimmed her hands down the front of his jacket. He clasped her hands with his.
“Do you think she wants you back?” the woman whispered in his ear. “She might be dreadfully sorry for whatever she said.”
“You do not know anything about it.” Damn. Why did he drink that last glass of whisky?
Her hand went to his cravat and slowly untied the knot. Unraveling the linen from around his neck, she let her breasts rub against his shoulders.
“How badly do you want her back?”
“I already told you, I don’t want…” his voice trailed off as her hands unbuttoned his shirt. Her warm, soft hands slid down his chest until she reached his nipples.
“Are you certain you don’t want her back?” She kissed his neck. “I am sensing that you do.”
Her fingers rubbed and pulled slightly on his nipples, driving him mad. How was he supposed to think about anything when she was doing that to him?
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