Ignoring the voice that wanted to ask if she’d liked kissing him, he said instead, ‘No, we shall both guard against a repetition.’ Though he couldn’t make himself believe it, he added, ‘The kiss we both wondered about is over and done. In the past now. We’ll do better in future.’
Liar, a scornful voice whispered. That touch and kiss only whetted his desire for more, pulling him ever more deeply under her spell. How was he to reconcile that realisation with his determination to marry?
‘Yes, we’ll do better,’ she affirmed. ‘However, while we both work on...retraining our instinctive reactions, perhaps we should continue the lesson in a more public place. I’d planned this for another day, but do you have time for an outing now?’
It would be wise to go out and defuse some of the sensual tension still simmering in the air. ‘An outing? Where?’
‘Quite likely, you will meet your young lady first at a ball. If you dance with her, you may signal your interest by sending her flowers the next day. But which flowers do you choose?’
He shrugged. ‘The most expensive variety available, I suppose. Although I haven’t sent flowers very often. My...ladies preferred a more lasting expression of interest—like jewels.’
Laughing, she shook her head. ‘Goodness, no! A gentleman never gives jewellery of any sort to a respectable single lady.’
He gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Very well. No kissing. No touching. No jewellery. Despite its other drawbacks, it appears courting the Virtuous Virgin will be easier on my purse.’
Ellie smiled, her lovely eyes sparkling. ‘True enough—before the wedding. After it, the bills for jewels, carriages, horses, gowns, bonnets, reticules, slippers, stockings, and undergarments could be extensive!’
‘We can dispense with the undergarments,’ he flashed back without thinking—and froze, as her startled gaze whipped to his face. She opened her mouth—probably to reprove him—but managed only a parting of her lips. As she flicked her tongue over them, desire stabbed deeper, the image created by his careless words smoking in his brain.
The two of them, outer garments tossed away, standing a touch apart, gazing at each other clothed only in a gilding of candlelight.
She must be feeling it, too, for her gaze explored his face, travelled up and down his body, before returning to his lips. After a time-suspended minute, she gave her head a little shake and looked away, a blush colouring her cheeks as she stood up.
‘It goes without saying that such a remark—any remark that touches on a lady’s garments, other than a general compliment on her loveliness—is strictly forbidden—especially given the reputation you are trying to overcome! Say something like that, and your young lady’s mama will have you shown the door before you can finish the sentence.’
He nodded. ‘Understood. Forgive me again. To the other dictates, I shall add “Edit speech before uttering”.’
She gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Few of us can control our thoughts. But all of us must learn to manage how, when and whether to express them. Let me fetch my pelisse and I’ll rejoin you in a minute.’
Were her ‘uncontrolled thoughts’ producing the same visions his were? The image of that candlelit chamber recurred as she walked from the room. If so, heaven help them both.
Maybe taking lessons from a courtesan was not such good idea.
Quickly he backed away from that conclusion. Being with her was the best way to learn to control his behaviour—if not his thoughts. Because proximity to a beautiful, desirable woman called up all the comments and instinctive reactions he needed to retrain. Just this short time today had demonstrated how much he had to learn.
Besides, he knew he couldn’t make himself give up the last encounters he’d have with her before he must move on to court that Virtuous Virgin. There would be no cancelling of lessons unless she requested it.
* * *
A short time later, Christopher helped Ellie alight from a hackney in the Covent Garden market. ‘Although the area is known for its theatres,’ Ellie explained, ‘it also houses some of the best flower shops.’ Leading him to one off the main square, the area before it filled with containers of colourful blooms, she continued, ‘Let’s say you danced with an intriguing young lady at a ball last night. What flowers would you send her the next day?’
Christopher inspected the varieties available—jonquils, tulips, various shades of heather, violets, bluebells, delicate crocuses, sweet pinks, wood irises, lilies of the valley, and sweet peas, with bins of ivy, fern, holly a green foil to their brighter hues. ‘I would choose roses, but they don’t appear to be in season yet. Maybe some jonquils,’ he said, pulling out a stem. ‘With bluebells for contrast?’ he said, choosing that, ‘and a bit of fern or ivy?’
She nodded. ‘Fern would be good, for that signals you are fascinated by the lady, and daffodils also signal your regard. Bluebells indicate humility, which is always a courteous way to present yourself, but best avoid ivy when you’re just getting to know the girl, for it signifies wedded love—a sign you may not be ready to give on such slim acquaintance!’
Christopher hastily returned the sprig to its bin as a salesgirl, who’d been busy with another customer, hurried over to greet them. ‘Can I fix you a bouquet, sir?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Several stems of each of these, please, wrapped up in blue ribbon.’
The shop girl had finished the bouquet, and Christopher presented it to Ellie. ‘Payment for my first lesson. To complete your instruction, though, is there anything else here—besides ivy—I’d need to avoid?’
‘Crocus indicates “cheerfulness”, which might tell the lady you’re not really interested, merely being polite. Pinks in general are good, signalling fascination, but avoid the striped—those say “no, I’m not interested”. Sweet peas can indicate gratitude—but also “thank you and goodbye”.’
‘So, if I want to tell the lady the dance was pleasant, but nothing more? Would I send crocus, striped pinks and sweet peas?’
‘If you’re not interested, better not to call or send flowers at all,’ Ellie said.
‘But isn’t it considered impolite to dance with the girl, and then not call on her?’ Christopher asked, trying to pull up some long-ago instructions from Aunt Gussie.
‘Better for the lady to think you rude than raise hopes you don’t expect to fulfil. Paying attention to a lady will lead to expectations that you have serious intentions. If you do not, and later stop seeing her and pursue another, it would damage her chances of obtaining a respectable offer.’
Christopher frowned. ‘In what way?’
‘Society—and other prospective suitors—will wonder why, after getting to know her better, you broke off your pursuit. Unfairly or not, they will conclude you felt there was something lacking in the lady.’
‘A girl’s prospects could be blighted on so flimsy a ground?’ Christopher exclaimed.
‘I’m afraid so. Which is why you must carefully select which ladies you call on, dance with, or take in to supper at balls. Society is always watching, and the amount of attention accorded a girl by her escorts closely scrutinised.’
‘I never realised courtship was so filled with hazards,’ Christopher said. ‘Ruin a girl just because you stop paying her attention? Be thought ready to ask for her hand because you dance too often, or send a bouquet full of ivy? Makes me glad I’ve avoided it all these years. Giving presents to experienced matrons requires much less discrimination.’
‘Sadly true. Carriages, jewels, gowns—anything is permissible. Although more taxing on the purse.’
‘Ah, but the reward is immediate.’ Instantly, his thoughts flew back to her kiss—and how much he’d like to sample more of her.
Irritated that he’d just lapsed again, he once again stifled the desire that seemed to escape restraint at every opportunity. ‘So I must add to the lis
t “call after dancing only if I want to continue the acquaintance” and “send the proper sort of flowers”. What other presents are permissible, and when would I send them?’
‘None, immediately. Remember, your calls upon the young lady will be brief, and you will never, ever be left alone with her, so it will take longer than with...other sorts of ladies...to become well enough acquainted to decide if you wish to pursue her. Although, as with any female, there will be clues in her behaviour to help you make that choice. Women of the demi-monde can display their interest quite blatantly, but even an innocent maid will give you signs—subtle, but observable, if you’re paying attention.’
Christopher raised his eyebrows sceptically. ‘What “subtle” reactions must I watch for?’
‘Notice whether or not the lady looks directly at you. If she does look, observe how she looks at you. A very shy girl probably won’t look at you at all, and will defer to her chaperone. Which might be a sign she’s not the right wife for you. A gentleman involved in politics needs a hostess with the intelligence and self-assurance to draw out her guests, ensure a good flow of conversation, and deftly deflect or defuse any budding disagreements. It’s quite an art.’
‘I suppose it is. Maggie does it so well, one doesn’t notice how expertly she manages her guests. It would be advantageous to acquire a wife with such skill, so I don’t have to impose on Maggie whenever I need to gather a discussion group for dinner. So, observe the lady during my call, and eliminate the shy and retiring.’
‘Of course, if a shy girl touches your sensibilities, I’d not rule her out simply because she might not make a perfect political wife. A lady who wins your heart would be the best choice of all. As much as possible, personal preference should be given full weight.’
If only he could choose by personal preference alone. Unfortunately, Society had rigid requirements for a woman to be considered suitable to become the wife of a baron’s son and Member of Parliament.
‘If the lady does take part in the conversation,’ Ellie had continued, ‘notice whether her comments add something of interest or value. Since she will be on her best behaviour, hoping to attract a suitor, having her prattle on about matters of no consequence would indicate she possesses a shallow mind. No matter how beautiful she might be, at some point your dinner guests will tire of having to show a polite interest in trivialities. That would be a worse failing in a hostess than shyness! Having previously been associated with only the cleverest of demi-mondaines, I doubt you have encountered either shy or garrulous ladies, so be on your guard.’
Christopher shook his head. ‘I can only imagine what Ben would do, were he seated next to a female who spent the entire meal talking about the trimming of her bonnet.’
Ellie nodded. ‘Exactly. You also want a lady with enough self-confidence to meet your eye or even flirt a little, while avoiding any who are too flirtatious. A good political hostess needs to feel comfortable in mostly masculine company. But a lady who seems intent on attaching every gentleman around her, as if she must always be the focus of attention and conversation, would make a taxing wife. You don’t want to spend your dinners frowning away every gentleman she attempts to beguile.’
Christopher recoiled. ‘How would I conduct any business, if I had to waste all my time keeping tabs on my wife?’
‘Exactly.’
‘So, during the short duration of a call, I need to carefully observe the female’s behaviour so as to rule out any who are too shy, too shallow, or too flirtatious.’ He shook his head with a groan. ‘The task grows more daunting with every new instruction. Indeed, I feel the need for some restorative. There’s a tavern at the next corner—can I offer you a glass of ale?’
‘You can certainly invite me to have a glass—but you could never invite an innocent maid into a tavern.’
Christopher sighed in exasperation. ‘So if we are strolling, and it is warm, we must expire of thirst?’
Ellie laughed. ‘You could leave the lady in the care of her maid or footman and fetch refreshments, as you did for me in Green Park. But the only public place at which an unmarried lady might take refreshments with you would be Gunter’s. Even there, you likely order tea, cake or ices for the waiter to bring to you in the square, rather than going into the shop.’
‘Remain out in the open, to demonstrate no improprieties are occurring.’
‘Precisely.’
‘Then let’s go there now. It’s too chilly for ices, but you can show me the proper place to bring a lady for tea and cake.’
Ellie grinned at him. ‘I thought you needed ale.’
‘When the lesson is over, I’ll escort you back to Hans Place and you may offer me a brandy.’ Where remembering I’m in Summerville’s house will keep me from wanting more.
Chapter Seven
Another hackney ride brought them to Berkeley Square, where Christopher gave their order to a waiter and escorted Ellie to a bench. As Ellie had predicted, there were a number of carriages under the plane trees in the Square, their occupants sipping tea and nibbling cakes.
Christopher scanned the vehicles, noting several contained turbaned matrons seated beside young ladies in pastel-coloured pelisses, the gentlemen—some of whom he recognised—on the backward-facing seat, conversing with them.
Some appeared to be very young ladies. Alarm spiking through him, he murmured, ‘Heaven forfend! Some of those chits look scarcely old enough to be out of the nursery. How could I woo one of them? It’s almost as bad as visiting one of those “schools” Artis feared.’
‘Some are quite young,’ Ellie admitted. ‘But generally they have some say in who they marry, and at the end of it they will be respectably settled.’
Her expression clouded, and Christopher knew she must be thinking of her own circumstances—being very young, having no choice, and ending up ruined. Before he could say anything, her brow smoothed and she said, ‘Besides, not every unmarried lady will be straight from the schoolroom. Families of higher rank or those who can provide large dowries don’t feel compelled to marry off their daughters in their first Season. An older girl with several years’ polish would probably appeal more to you.’
‘Or an experienced, but respectable widow?’ he suggested, recalling his talk with his mother.
‘There’s not so many of those, but there would be fewer restrictions on how and when you could meet with her. Though, of course, most of the rules of proper behaviour would still apply.’
His instinctive distaste for the whole business suddenly welling up, Christopher made a face. ‘Maybe I’ll skip courtship altogether and elope with her.’
Ellie laughed at his disgruntlement. ‘You’d ruin even the widow’s reputation if you did that!’
After a halt in the conversation when the waiter brought their tea and cakes, Ellie continued, ‘There’s no need for anything so drastic. Once you learn the proper techniques, you’ll find that getting to know a respectable lady is no more daunting than becoming acquainted with...more accessible females. And I’d not have you set your mind against someone just because she’s young. A self-confident, well-educated, intelligent girl with far-reaching interests and a lively curiosity might well capture your heart with her freshness and purity, as you capture hers. It’s what I most wish for you,’ she added quietly, tenderness in those magnificent violet eyes as she gazed at him.
A girl like she had been, ten years ago? How he wished he might have known her then, when she’d been pure and innocent and eager, poised for a bright future. Before a father’s weakness and an aristocrat’s lust had ruined her dreams, leaving her available now only for the one thing he must not have. ‘What I wish is altogether different,’ he murmured.
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘It’s foolish to wish for what can never be,’ she replied, the warmth in her eyes turning to sadness.
He gritte
d his teeth against the urge to take her hand in comfort. Before he could commit that mistake, a sardonic voice said, ‘What’s this? A tête-à-tête under the trees?’
Christopher looked up to see Lord Mountgarcy on horseback at the edge of the square. His mild irritation increased to full-blown annoyance as he recalled his mother mentioning the Viscount as one of the men who might be pursuing Ellie. ‘Mountgarcy,’ he acknowledged the man with a nod. ‘Returning from your night’s revels?’
‘Merely a refreshing morning ride before beginning again,’ the older man replied as he swung down from the saddle. Handing the bridle to the urchin who came running, he strolled over.
Christopher raised his eyebrows. ‘A bit late for a “morning” ride, I should think. The afternoon’s nearly gone.’
His smug expression broadening to a smile at Christopher’s hostile tone, the older man halted beside them, his gaze roaming from Christopher to Ellie—who ignored him. ‘Didn’t know you were entering the lists in the competition for the lovely Ellie. Wouldn’t have thought you had enough blunt.’
‘There are no “lists” to enter, my lord,’ Ellie said, according the Viscount a cool nod. ‘I thought I’d already made that very clear.’
‘So you said,’ Mountgarcy replied, subjecting her to a full and insolent appraisal that had Christopher itching to jump up and punch him. ‘How often a lady says one thing, while her behaviour demonstrates just the opposite! As one might assume from your appearance here in the company of Mr Lattimer, who is famed for his associations with only the loveliest of demi-mondaines. If you are beginning your search for a new protector, surely you won’t forget the many inducements I can offer.’
‘Miss Parmenter,’ Christopher said, emphasising the formality, ‘is a close friend of my mother, who is one of the sponsors of the school for indigent girls she now occupies herself running.’
Mountgarcy raised his eyebrows. ‘A “school” for girls? That’s something that could interest me, though I generally prefer my pigeons a bit older. You do have two sisters, don’t you, Lattimar? Given your mother’s reputation, I’m not surprised they are thinking of joining Ellie’s sisterhood. If they are as pretty is she is, they should be quite successful.’
Secret Lessons with the Rake Page 8
