Tutoring Miss Molly

by Armstrong, Lyn

  Two large hands grabbed her shoulders and kissed her cheek from behind. She jumped at first then realized it must be Devlin. A happy glow enveloped her. Tilting her face up to him, she found a pair of blue eyes smiling at her, and her heart sank with disappointment.

  Kenneth sat beside her and flicked his napkin onto his lap.

  “It pleases me to see you in such fine form, Miss Molly.” Kenneth took a sip of coffee. “I trust my brother did not keep you up all night.”

  A jealous hint of envy and anger flashed across his face.

  Molly shifted in her seat. She was not going to answer a question asked with ill intent. Instead, she looked over her shoulder at the entranceway but found only another couple walking into the room, their arms entwined.

  “Miss Molly?” Kenneth repeated her name.

  “I am sorry, did you say something?” Smothering a sigh, she forced her attention to Devlin’s brother.

  His gaze held hers, then he looked away. “Never mind.” He scowled.

  A kitchen servant came with a platter of meats and eggs. Kenneth piled their plates with food. He waved the servant away. “It may come as a shock, but I am still very attracted to you. Even though my brother has…” Kenneth cleared his throat, “…broken you in. Perhaps now you will do me the honor of considering me as your benefactor.”

  Molly’s jaw dropped. Did everyone know Devlin took her maidenhead last night?

  “Think on it,” he said. “You will have many men to choose from, but none will give you as many jewels as I.” Kenneth reached into his brown jacket, pulled out a large velvet box and opened it.

  Sparkling in the morning light, an exquisite necklace encased in diamonds and pearls shone upon black velvet. “This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever given me,” she whispered, too afraid to touch such an expensive gift.

  Kenneth pulled out the necklace and leaned close to place it around her neck. He breathed deeply, his lips lightly nuzzling her neck. It tickled, and she squirmed and giggled.

  The room grew quiet.

  Molly raised her gaze to find Devlin sitting at the head of the table. Her spirits soared at the handsome sight he made. She opened her mouth to excuse herself from Kenneth when something in Devlin’s eyes darkened.

  Was he upset with her?

  A hot ache grew in her throat.

  “It appears my brother is in a foul disposition today.” Kenneth peered at Devlin then back at Molly. “Or maybe, he is jealous.”

  “Jealous?”

  Kenneth shrugged. “I don’t know why. He usually has no problem sharing his women. Besides, everyone knows he despises courtesans.”

  “He hates courtesans?”

  Devlin shifted his dark gaze away and ignored her, concentrating on making polite conversation with a portly gentleman.

  “Yes, I am surprised he agreed to tutor you, but then again, he had a wager with my father.”

  Molly stiffened. “What wager?”

  Kenneth smirked. “I should not have said anything.”

  “What wager?”

  “Well, if you must know. My father let it slip that he made a wager with Devlin. If you are not the chosen one at the mistress auction, he could marry Lady Audrey by spring.”

  “And if I am chosen?”

  “Then the duke will break the contract, and my brother will miss out on marrying his true love.” Kenneth studied her reaction. “This is probably why he took your virginity. You are less likely to earn as much at the auction.”

  She blinked and shifted her gaze. A dark pit weighed in her stomach, making her feel sick. He did not want her to be the chosen one at the auction or he would lose Audrey. It all made sense now. No wonder he was surly with her when they first met. She repulsed him as a courtesan.

  He did not want her. He just wanted her to lose at the mistress auction.

  Oh, what does it matter now? She stabbed at the egg on her plate and shoved a hefty piece in her mouth. This was what her aunt warned her about. A courtesan could not involve her heart. Tilting her chin toward Kenneth, she smiled around the food in her mouth. Devlin’s brother was everything she needed—a wealthy benefactor who was handsome, kind and generous. What more could a poor spinster ask for?

  After all, this was the reason she was here. She had to think about her aunt. Molly glanced at Devlin again. His head decidedly turned away from her as if she did not exist.

  He did tell her in the beginning he was in no need of a courtesan.

  Kenneth popped a piece of hen in his mouth. “My darling, I want you as my own. I will set you up in my townhouse in the fashionable Berkley Square. You will have everything you could want. Gowns, hats…everything.” After dabbing his mouth with a napkin, he picked up her hand and kissed it. “Your hands are too beautiful to soil with farm work.”

  Her heart burned with betrayal while her vision blurred with unshed tears. She looked up in time to see Audrey join Devlin. The tall blonde placed a kiss on his lips and sneered at Molly.

  “Come, let us leave,” Kenneth commanded, throwing the napkin across his plate.

  Molly nodded, wanting to run from the room as fast as she could, but dare not make a scene. She would not show him how hurt she was. Instead, she allowed Kenneth to guide her out with his arm intimately draped around her waist.

  Devlin watched Molly leave with his brother. Again, she made a fool out of him. To think he raced downstairs to find her, only to face her giggling when Kenneth kissed and fondled her. Was her heart so cold to make love to a man one night, then swap lovers the next morning? He was angry with himself for caring. She was a courtesan after all. Did they not burn for the man with the highest wealth? Judging by the diamond necklace around her delicate throat, she was easily bought. The thought twisted and turned inside of him.

  Audrey’s hand snaked along his thigh, pressing her breasts against his arm. “Let us set a date for our wedding.”

  “There is something I should tell you—”

  “This spring would be lovely. Just in time for the roses to bloom and—”

  “Spring?” Devlin studied her features. “You know of the wager?”

  She opened her mouth then closed it. A sickly smile widened her lips. “There is no point in lying to you.”

  “Do you not care I wish to break the contract?”

  Edging closer, Audrey licked his earlobe. “No, I do not. I will be the marchioness and eventually part of the royal family as your duchess. It is what I’ve been trained for all my life.”

  Devlin jerked away. “Not if Molly is the chosen one at the mistress auction.”

  Audrey’s eyes flashed with anger, all pretenses vanished. “That commoner is far too ugly for our guests. All that red hair and spotty face.” Audrey shuddered.

  The sting in his heart became a sick, hot gnawing. He rose to his feet, causing her hand to drop from his lap. “That red hair and freckled face grants her a wholesome quality many lack.” He pushed his chair in. “And I find her irresistible.”

  The dining room buzzed with whispers when Devlin walked out. He heard Audrey calling for him, but he did not care. Why he defended Molly after her unfaithfulness, was beyond him. He stormed into the library. Dry timber crackled in the fireplace while Annie, a young, mousy maid hummed softly in the corner, dusting the shelves. She turned and bobbed a curtsey, and left in a swish of petticoats.

  Upon the mantelpiece, malt whiskey glistened within a crystal decanter. Devlin twirled the lid off and poured a generous portion into a glass. He gulped a mouthful of liquor. It burned the back of his throat and settled in his empty stomach.

  His eyes lifted to the reflection in the gilded mirror over the fireplace. It did not show the proud and arrogant man he used to be, but instead a man who appeared lost, hollow.

  “It is all for the best,” he mumbled and raised his glass to his mirror image.

  “The men will bid upon her like she is a prized mare.” He took another swig of his drink. “And my…my brother will pay highly for
her.”

  The muscles in his calves weakened, and he collapsed on a chair by the fire. The flames hypnotized him into their orange depths. “She will be the chosen one and I…I will be free from the marriage contract. I will have everything I desire.”

  He swirled the golden whiskey in his hand, releasing a bitter, sharp aroma. A silent desolation swept over him. Instead of the secluded library comforting him, the isolation tore at his soul.

  “Everything I desire, but one.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Weariness enveloped Molly as she walked beside Kenneth. Confusing thoughts whirled around her head. At the back of her mind, she knew there was no chance Devlin could have feelings for her. He was a marquess and she was…well she was born poor. But after last night, she had hoped.

  Was she really just a means to an end? To wager her body so he could marry Audrey. He must think she was not attractive enough to win the mistress auction. She picked up a strand of her red hair and her heart sunk further. Was everything he said a lie?

  “The conservatory is always quiet this time of day,” Kenneth said, his warm hand guided her into an empty room.

  The warm rays of the sun filtered through a wall made of glass. Orange blossom trees lined the back wall, filling the room with a sharp scent of citrus. Ordinarily, the exotic Chippendale furnishings with dragon motifs and crystal antiques would have fascinated her, but inside she struggled to keep her composure.

  Kenneth circled her and captured her face in his hands. He moved his mouth over hers, his tongue slopping saliva across the corner of her lips. She forced herself to respond, but could not muster the passion.

  Unaware of her feelings, Kenneth pulled away and gave a smug smile, his gaze going to her neckline. “Do you like your gift?”

  She touched the heavy diamonds around her neck. “To be honest, my lord, when I look at these gems I do not see its beauty.”

  His face fell. “I beg your pardon.”

  “I see extra bales of hay for our farm horse to see him through the winter months. Seeds my aunt can purchase to plant come spring.” The diamonds reflected the sunlight against her chest and she squinted. “And perhaps a cow, so we would have fresh milk when the riverbed is dry.”

  “A cow.” Kenneth grabbed her hand. “Didn’t you hear anything at breakfast? I told you I would set you up in London. Do you understand what I am risking for you?”

  Risking?

  “What about my aunt?”

  “I have no need for an older lady,” Kenneth said and edged closer to kiss her.

  Molly pulled away. “I must go.”

  “Yes, yes, go get ready for tonight’s auction. I plan on bidding very high for you, my dear. I hope you do not disappoint me.”

  She hastened out of the conservatory with a slimy feel to every part of her skin Kenneth had touched. It was strange how she no longer found him attractive.

  “Miss Molly?” a small voice called.

  Molly turned to find a skinny scullery-maid waving at her. From beneath a white cap, tight brown curls swayed across her brow as she ran toward her. The beauty spot under her eye made the young girl appear sweet. Molly frowned when she noticed a red hand mark on the girl’s porcelain skin. Her clear blue eyes were moist as if she had been crying.

  “Are you well?” Molly asked. “Did someone hurt you?”

  “I’ve been asked to give you a message,” she said. Shifting her eyes, she wiped her hands on a water-stained apron. “Lord Devlin requests you to come down to the cellars. He wishes to show you something.”

  In the cellar? “Very well then.”

  The scullery-maid pointed toward the west wing. “You can go through the servant quarters and then downstairs.”

  “Thank you.”

  The scullery-maid ran ahead as if being upstairs made her uncomfortable. Molly followed her directions. After going through a series of doors and down a narrow staircase, she came to a wide chamber with a long servants’ table. Small cabin rooms opened up to the crowded and noisy main hall. Servants bustled past her with strange looks on their faces. Some were eating while others ran in and out of their personal rooms. This loud chaotic world was in stark contrast to the smooth running household above.

  “Miss Molly, what are you doing here?” Yvette came out of a room Molly had just walked by.

  She turned around. “I’m looking for—”

  “I need to tell you something.”

  “What is it?”

  Yvette’s face drained of all color when she peered over Molly’s shoulder. Molly glanced around to find the butler standing with his arms folded, his face frowning at Yvette.

  “It…it does not matter,” Yvette stumbled and rushed back into her cabin.

  “Guests are not supposed to be down here. It is most improper,” snarled the butler.

  “I’m looking for the cellar,” Molly said.

  He jabbed his thumb in the air. “Through those doors and down another flight of stairs.”

  With an uneasy gulp, Molly gave a noncommittal smile. She edged around him to escape his disapproving stare. Her boots echoed on the narrow staircase as she descended into the lowest part of the manor. The stale and oppressive air did not help a sudden chill that swept down her spine.

  She knocked on an opened oak door.

  “Hello?” she called into the dark cellar. “Devlin, are you here?”

  Apart from several barrels of wine and shelves of food stored in the dank room, it appeared empty.

  The door closed behind her, and a bolt slid in place, trapping her inside. Complete darkness enveloped her, heightening her senses.

  “I’m in here!” she shouted and banged her fists on the door. “Let me out.”

  A cackle came from the other side of the door.

  “Lady Audrey, is that you? Please, let me out.”

  A muffled voice replied, “And have you be the chosen one at the auction. No, I think not.”

  Molly pounded on the oak. “You can’t leave me down here.”

  “That is the least of your concerns,” Audrey said ominously.

  What did she mean? Panic shot through her, and she took a step away from the door.

  “Did Devlin put you up to this?” she asked, but there was no answer except for the distant clicking of heels upon the stairs.

  “Help!” she yelled over and over again, but no one came.

  Molly paced the floor in the dark. The heavy scent of flour mingled with spices filled her nose. She bumped into a cabinet, kicking her foot against an immovable object. Her hand brushed across the smooth wood and nudged a steel tinderbox. Opening the lid, she pulled out a char cloth, flint and steel. Striking the three objects, the cloth caught on fire granting her enough light to find a used candle.

  With no place to sit but on a sack of flour, she plopped down on the bag. A gust of white powder shot up from a hole in the bag and covered her in a film of flour.

  She wanted to wail out all her frustrations. Cry, scream, hit the bag of flour, but all she did was stare blankly into the shadows. This was not part of her plan.

  For the sake of her aunt, she had to attend the mistress auction and win the stature of best courtesan. Even though Kenneth assured her, he would take care of her, after dealing with Devlin’s duplicity—the Harman men were not to be trusted.

  With her elbows on her knees, Molly rested her chin in her hands. “I am such a ninny.”

  Unwanted memories of Devlin’s handsome face haunted her mind. No matter how her heart broke, tonight she had to make love to another man. That is if she escaped this powdery dungeon.

  For what seemed like hours, she sat on the sack of flour, the candle nearing the end of its wick. What would happen when the light went out, leaving her in darkness? Surely, one of the servants would eventually seek something from the cellar. She just hoped it would be before the auction started or the candle ran out.

  Whom was she jesting? The auction was about to begin and no one was coming to rescue her.
/>   She had failed.

  These aristocrats played games of intrigue too complicated for her to understand. She just wanted to go home. At least there she knew what was expected of her. Life on a farm may be poor, but it was a lot simpler and safer.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  Molly’s breath caught in her lungs.

  She heard someone chuckle and then young voices. The bolt slid across and the door opened. A footman and a lady’s maid walked in kissing each other. The footman had his hand up the maid’s skirt as they shuffled in.

  The girl screamed when she saw Molly and quickly pushed down her petticoats.

  Rising from the floor, Molly asked, “Has the mistress auction started?”

  The blushing couple nodded.

  Running past them and up the stairs, she left a trail of flour in her wake.

  With no time to return to her room to change, she tucked her wayward hair behind her ears and tried to wipe white powder off her face. Her crinkled violet gown would have to do. Rounding the corner of the ballroom, she pushed her way into the crowded chamber. Everyone’s attention was on the four stunning courtesans standing on the stage. Their gowns and hair were immaculate and seductive. The duke announced each one with flourish and charm.

  Pushing through the throng of guests, she finally made it to the stage and with as much elegance as possible rolled onto the stage and stood at the end of the line.

  His Grace hesitated when he came to her. His mouth gapped open at her disheveled appearance. Clearing his throat, he pronounced, “I have the honor of introducing a special courtesan tonight…”

  Molly could not hear anything he said. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, her lungs burning as she gasped for air. She scanned the guests for Devlin, but could not find him in the horde. Where was he?

  Kenneth waved to her, and she gave him a weak smile. Audrey stood next to him. Her arms crossed while her eyes shot an arrow of hatred. Unable to resist, Molly blew a saucy kiss at the lady.

  If anything tonight, she wanted to break Audrey’s contract to Devlin. She looked down at her ruined gown, patches of flour clung to the fabric. Swiping her skirt, she did not recognize the duke standing next to her until she saw his polished black shoes. She lifted her head. The duke stared at her with expectation. The crowd’s attention was on her, their faces one of amusement. The thought of speaking in front of so many people tightened her throat, her stomach turned with nausea.