“Tell me about the women I’ll be teaching,” she said so softly that he almost didn’t hear her over the plodding of hooves, whirring of wheels, creaking of springs, shouts, and yells that comprised the cacophony of people going about their day. “What should I expect of them?”
He was grateful she was willing to not dwell on what he’d shared. But then what more was there to say on the matter?
“Lottie is flirtatious, likes to tease, and hardly takes anything seriously. I think she’ll present the greatest challenge to you because she thoroughly enjoys men, so is likely to be let go from one position after another for being generous with her favors. Lily is the shyest of the lot but has a heart of gold, is always mothering. I’ve often thought she’d make an excellent companion to a wealthy widow. Pearl and Ruby are fast friends, and I suspect where one of them goes, the other would like to follow. Hester has an interest in being a lady’s maid—again not in a noble household, but the wives of successful men have a need to be properly put together. You might consider allowing her to wait on you and teach her what a lady requires of a maid who serves her personally.”
“That’s a simple enough thing to do, although it would benefit me.”
“She’d no doubt be delighted with the practice. As I understand it, she often treats the others as if they are dolls, fiddling with their hair, telling them what they should wear.”
“I’ll talk with her about it, then.”
“Good. The last is Flora. She spends a good bit of her time tending the garden.”
As he’d spoken, her brow had begun to furrow, deeper and deeper, with each word. Her lips were parted slightly, and he considered lowering his mouth to hers and introducing their tongues. He hadn’t determined exactly what his lessons to her would entail. Any physical intimacy, even if it was only a mere touch, could lead to other things and test his resolve not to take advantage of her. Which was the reason he’d added the thousand-pounds payment should she be disappointed by his efforts. He didn’t plan to intentionally not honor his agreement to teach her what she wished to know, but he also knew the fulfillment of it could create problems. He probably should have included in the terms that at any time, if unwanted emotions began to surface, either of them could bring a halt to the lessons without any forfeit.
“You seem troubled,” he finally managed once he was able to stop thinking about her mouth.
“I didn’t expect them to be . . . so normal. Tending gardens, pinning up hair . . . I expected them to be tawdry.”
“Oh, there’s a little bit of that. It’s the reason I need you to make these diamonds in the rough sparkle a bit. They’re open in their discussions. The topic is often sex rather than weather. They share crude jokes. They walk about scantily clad, but beneath it all, like everyone else they have things beyond their job that they enjoy. They have dreams.”
“And smiles that light tapers.”
“For some, yes. Don’t judge them by their covers.”
“I immediately liked Jewel the night I met her. She was kind, concerned, and teased you. I guess I thought her the exception.”
“In my experience, I have found her to be more the rule.”
Chapter 9
By the time they’d arrived back at the residence, luncheon had already been served and finished, the ladies of the night having returned upstairs to ready themselves for lessons.
So it was only Althea and Benedict being served at the large table that seated a dozen. She was surprised by the simple yet elegant style of the dining room. It was equal in taste to any found in the poshest of houses in Mayfair.
“You have a most excellent cook,” she said.
“Growing up in the rookeries, with so many siblings, I was always hungry. It was a situation I intended to correct as soon as I had the means.”
She thought of the coins he left on tables, the hansom cabs he so easily hired, the residence, its fine furnishings, the well-tailored clothing that accentuated his remarkably fit and tempting physique. “Now you have the means.”
“I do.”
“I’d have not thought being a writer was so lucrative.” Especially after only one book.
“It’s not, but my ships are.”
Another bit of information about Benedict Trewlove she didn’t know. Not that it would have made any difference in her decision to accept his proposition, but she’d been right that first night to think he was a man adept at keeping secrets. “You have ships?”
“A man must have a livelihood.”
He said it so simply as though it was of no importance. Yet, of all the ships she’d watched come and go, all the adventures she’d imagined the crews encountering, she’d never known anyone who actually owned a vessel that traveled the seas. “How many have you?”
“Four.”
“How did you come to have them?”
He swirled the glass of white wine a footman had poured for him. “When I was younger, about fourteen, I began working on the docks.”
Dear God. At fourteen. She knew the toll the dock work had taken on Griffith. She couldn’t imagine the challenge it would have presented to a fourteen-year-old boy.
“As I loaded and unloaded cargo, I would speak with the merchants who came to claim their wares, and ask questions of the captains and crews. I knew money was to be had in the shipping business. So I saved my earnings until I could purchase a ship. Took several years, of course, as ships are not without significant cost. With all my inquiries, I was able to determine a profitable route for acquiring merchandise for a host of merchants who liked that I was willing to charge less than my competitors in order to acquire their business. Soon, I had so many contracts that I needed another ship. And then another . . . and another. I’m thinking a fifth might be in order soon.”
“Have you traveled the world, then?”
He studied his wine. “When I acquired my first ship, I thought I might. Got as far as the cliffs at Dover. Ferguson—he was the first captain I hired—told me to take a good look because soon we’d be far out at sea with no land in sight.” He scoffed and gave her a wry grin. “I made him return to port. I didn’t want to be beyond sight of land, beyond sight of England. I’m not certain why it didn’t occur to me before that eventually I’d be surrounded by nothing except water. Have you ever left England?”
“I’ve been to Paris for gowns.”
“Was the green you wore yesterday from Paris?”
She nodded. “Did you like it?”
Rather than answer, he glanced at his timepiece. “The ladies should be ready for you now.”
Lottie, Lily, Hester, Pearl, Ruby, and Flora.
They were lounging around the library in various stages of undress, corsets pushing up breasts, silk wraps tied loosely, revealing cleavage and bared thighs. In one instance hinting at a shadowed area, indicating the woman didn’t bother with drawers. Some feet were naked, others slippered. Some of the women pinned up their hair, while the others left the strands to hang loose. One woman’s hair was styled with combs and curls that would have served her well at a ball.
Althea decided she was Hester. She looked so damned young that she couldn’t have seen more than two decades.
“Straighten yourselves, ladies,” Jewel ordered, standing to Althea’s left.
They did so with a sinewy roll of their bodies that had her thinking she should ask them to teach her about seduction. Although they studied her as though not quite sure what to make of her, she also saw a measure of hope and excitement in their expressions, tentative smiles welcoming her.
“As I mentioned yesterday,” Benedict said, “Miss Stanwick is here to teach you refinement and some skills that will help you find a position elsewhere. You’re to show her respect and follow her instructions without complaining about them. Any questions?”
A hand shot up. The woman appeared short of stature. Althea fought not to envy her ample bosom.
“Lottie?” he said.
“Is she a toff? She looks like a to
ff.”
“She is familiar with the world that can offer you more than this one.”
“If she’s not looking down on you, love, don’t you be looking down on her,” Jewel added.
“Ain’t lookin’ down on ’er, Jewel. Want to be like ’er. Bet she could get a fancy bloke with deep pockets to take ’er to the altar. That’s the kind of permanent position I’m lookin’ fer. One beneath a rich bloke.”
Althea couldn’t help it. Laughing, she had a feeling she was going to have conversations with these women unlike any she’d ever had in the posh parlors of London’s elite.
He sighed deeply. “Lottie—”
“It’s fine,” Althea assured him. “Even the toffs dream of that.”
She was delighted by the ruddy hue that unexpectedly stained his cheeks. The women were suddenly out of their chairs and circling her. She suspected they’d been testing her, and she’d somehow earned good marks.
“Ladies, before we get started with today’s exercise,” she said, “I’d like you to tell me what you might want to do if you can’t be beneath a rich bloke.”
They started laughing and talking all at once.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he said near her ear before walking from the room.
“Ladies,” she said, “I can’t hear anyone if you’re all talking at the same time. Why don’t we move the chairs into a circle and get to know one another a bit better?”
Once they were all gathered, Lottie asked, “Do you like your bedchamber?”
Althea was surprised the young woman would care. “I do, yes. I find the colors very calming.”
Lottie grinned. “That’s what I was ’oping fer when I chose the wallpaper and counterpane.”
“You’re the one who designed it?”
“Lottie does all the rooms,” Pearl said.
She did? Well, that was interesting. It was also a possible alternative to her current occupation. “This room?”
Lottie grinned, lifted her shoulders. “All the rooms.”
“I find the parlor an interesting contrast to this room.”
The woman just blinked at her.
“Why did you decorate the parlor as you did?”
“Oh, that was for the blokes. They like to see naughty bits. Makes ’em think they’re bein’ just as naughty.”
She leaned forward slightly. “If it wasn’t a receiving room for a brothel, how would you decorate it?”
With her brow so deeply furrowed, she appeared incredibly serious as though she’d been asked if Parliament should pass a particular piece of legislation. “In blues and yellows, I think, ’cuz of the way sun comes in through the windows in the mornin’.”
Althea could envision it. The woman had the right of it. The colors would be perfect.
As she grilled the other ladies for the next half hour, she began to get a sense of their interests and how she might guide them toward other avenues. Once that was established, she moved on.
“I’d like to discuss your attire for these lessons. Since I’m striving to teach you how to be a lady, it might help if you didn’t see yourself as someone comfortable revealing . . . quite so much. You must have proper attire that you wear when you go shopping.”
They all nodded. Good. She’d encourage them to wear that.
“Then there’s our leaving frocks that Beast had a seamstress make for us,” Lily said.
“Your leaving frocks he had made for you?” She shook her head.
Lily nodded enthusiastically. “For interviews and for leaving. He’s had one made for every strumpet who ever worked here. To hang our dreams on in the wardrobe, he said. So whenever we open it, we remember something better is coming.”
“Every”—she could not say strumpet—“woman who’s worked here? There have been others?”
“Caw, yeah. We’re just what’s left.”
The ones who needed a bit more refinement.
“Lottie’s been here the longest. Lottie, how many do you think?”
“Blimey, I don’t know. Two dozen or so. I ain’t been here as long as Jewel. She’d know, for certain.”
Althea was stunned to learn there had been so many, and yet after their visit to the cemetery, she understood his need to help them and wanted to do all in her power to assist in their transition to a different life. “Perhaps your leaving frock is what you should wear for your lessons, as a sort of motivation.”
Lily appeared horrified. “It’s only for when we’re leaving and ain’t comin’ back.”
“Well, then, perhaps wear something a little more proper tomorrow, so you’re reminded of what you’re aspiring to be rather than how you are currently engaged.”
“Blimey, ye talk so fancy,” Lottie said.
She smiled. “And soon, so will you. But first, I’m going to teach you how to walk like a lady.”
She eased the loneliness that marred his soul.
It was the only sentence he’d written during the past hour since he’d left Althea to her lessons. It could apply to him and her as much as it did to his detective and the woman he suspected of murdering her husband.
He’d intended for the recent widow to be the culprit, but now saw the potential for her to soften his no-nonsense inspector. Did he need softening? Would it make him vulnerable?
With a groan, he dropped his head back and plowed his fingers through his long hair. He felt as though he were examining himself more than he was the character he’d created.
But then it seemed he was constantly analyzing his reactions to Althea. He enjoyed talking with her. Liked that she wasn’t afraid of him, hadn’t been from the first. Liked that she knew her own mind. Most of the time it didn’t bother him that she wouldn’t let him sway her from her decisions—but when it wasn’t in her best interest, it irritated the devil out of him.
Funny thing was, he even enjoyed that.
He’d been tempted to stay and observe the lessons but needed to work. He wasn’t certain eight words counted as achieving his goal.
He heard a bang, something falling. One of the ladies tripping over furniture?
Bang.
What the devil were they doing?
Bang.
He walked out of his study and crossed over to the library that was right next to it. The women were walking through the room with one of his precious books balanced on each of their heads—or trying to. One step, maybe two, and the thing toppled off and hit the floor. Bang.
Except for one. Except for the one sitting atop Althea’s head as she demonstrated how it was to be done, gliding along the length of the room with the book barely moving. So poised, so elegant, so in control. She wouldn’t tolerate it slipping from its perch.
How many hours had she practiced that stroll? How diligently had she worked to perfect that one small component so that particular facet of herself would not be found lacking? So she wouldn’t be looked down upon, so no fault would be found with her, so she could acquire a husband worthy of her? He couldn’t imagine that she’d given any less attention to fewer than a hundred other characteristics that defined her as a woman of the nobility.
Yet, for all her training, her father’s actions had made it all unnecessary.
Four and twenty. Why had she not already married?
She pivoted about and her gaze immediately landed on him, and the touch of her eyes might as well have been the touch of her hands on his skin, so forceful was the impact. That did not bode well for him remaining indifferent when it came to tutoring her in the art of seduction.
Turning on his heel, he headed down the stairs at a near gallop, needing to put distance between them, needing this warm, electrifying sensation to dissipate. He finally reached Jewel’s office near the kitchen. The door was open. Unlike him, she never shut it, didn’t mind being disturbed when she was at her labors.
“Why aren’t you upstairs taking the lessons?”
Sitting behind her desk where she’d been writing in a ledger, Jewel glanced up. “What need have I
for them?”
She poured scotch into two glasses and scooted one toward the edge of the desk. “I did stay long enough to ensure the girls would behave. Althea rather quickly charmed them.”
He wasn’t surprised. Even when she’d been irritated with him for asking questions that first night at the Mermaid, he’d been charmed. Dropping into the chair before Jewel’s desk, he took the glass, lifted it in a salute, and sipped the amber liquid. It went down smoothly, heating his chest. “I need you to teach her the precautions she should take so she doesn’t get with child.”
Jewel paused with her glass nearly to her lips. He seldom knew precisely what she was thinking. The best doxies—and Jewel had been one of the best—were skilled actresses. But her guard was down, and he could see that he’d stunned her.
“I’ve never known you to dip your wick within these walls, but I could sense from the beginning that something about her was different.”
He tapped his glass. “I have no plans to do any dipping, but she’s asked me to teach her how to seduce men.”
Eventually, someone else would do the dipping. His jaw clenched as he fought not to envision it; his stomach tightened as fury threatened. He didn’t want anyone else bloody touching her. But what he wanted was not the issue, was not how the terms had been laid out.
With a Cheshire cat-like grin, Jewel leaned back in her chair. “That should prove interesting. Are you going to do it?”
“I haven’t a choice. It was a condition of hers in order to tutor the ladies.”
“You don’t sound pleased. Do you fear falling for her? Being unable to resist the temptation of her?”
Yes. Yes. “No. It’s simply that I hesitate to set her on a path fraught with dangers.”
“The path she decides to travel should be her choice to make—just as Sally’s was. You’re not responsible for her dying. If anyone is, it’s the blackguard who attacked her that night. That they wouldn’t even consider arresting him because she was a doxy still eats at me.”
“If I hadn’t agreed to protect her—”
“Sally still would have engaged in her trade, Beast, and she’d have had a harder time of it, filled with more slaps, punches, and men who treated her unkindly. I speak from experience. Before you took me in, I cursed men on a nightly basis but saw no way out. Now look at me. You taught me how to manage things and keep ledgers. How to be a hostess. I daresay when the last of the girls is gone, we could turn this place into a proper boardinghouse and make a tidy profit.”
Beauty Tempts the Beast Page 11