Countess So Shameless (Scandal in London)

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Countess So Shameless (Scandal in London) Page 10

by Liana Lefey


  How rude.

  Herrington was among those in the gathering. The man glared at her with chilly disdain, and Mélisande matched his cool appraisal, making it obvious she found him somehow lacking. She smiled in satisfaction when he finally excused himself and stalked away.

  When the group broke, David offered his arm without a word and began leading her toward the outer hall.

  His pace was leisurely, but Mélisande wasn’t fooled. He was furious, probably over her partnering with Orsini—Gravina, she reminded herself—for the waltz. That was unfortunate, because she really needed his help. There was no way she could do this alone; she simply didn’t have the knowledge.

  But he did. And knowing David as she did, she also knew there was no point in trying to sweeten the reality. With him, the direct approach was always best. David ushered her to the nearest door, checking first to be sure the room was unoccupied before unceremoniously shoving her in.

  His eyes when he turned to face her were two chips of ice. She’d seen the look before, although never directed at her. It was the look he wore when facing his father.

  A tiny twinge of fear stabbed through her.

  He stared her down, his lips thinning to a slash as he waited.

  “I want him,” she stated, her chin lifting in defiance. “I’ve wanted him since the day I met him. And I shall have him.” She moved to a large gilt mirror on the wall and began adjusting her hair, glancing at him in its reflection.

  He lifted a brow.

  “It’s pointless to argue,” she continued, growing cross at his continued silence. “I’ve no desire for a husband, as you well know, and therefore have no need to preserve my virginity. To even imagine that I would remain pristine until I reach my grave is purely ridiculous.” She let out an unladylike snort. “Let us be realistic. It has to happen someday, and now is as good a time as any.”

  “I will not allow it, Melly. I forbid it.”

  Mélisande straightened her spine and glared at him in the mirror. “Not allow? Forbid?” Her voice rang off the walls as she turned to face him. “You, sirrah, shall forbid me nothing! You are neither my guardian nor my keeper!”

  David’s dark brows collided.

  “I never took you for a hypocrite, but now I begin to wonder,” she threw at him, working her way up to a full rant. “That you of all people, a complete degenerate, would think to teach me morality is a bloody laugh. If I—”

  “I don’t propose to teach you anything!” he shot back at her. “That would be impossible, wouldn’t it? And even if I did make the attempt, it would be a case of the blind leading the blind, and well I know it. I’m only trying to save you from yourself, damn you!”

  “I don’t want to be saved!” she hissed. “I know exactly what I do want, however, and it isn’t a lecture from you! What I want is out there now, awaiting my return.”

  “Oh, yes.” David nodded, his tone sarcastic. “I can well imagine. He waits for you like a fox waits for a trusting bird to fly into its open jaws! Do you really think you’re a match for a seducer like him just because your mother was a courtesan? I can tell you right now, you’re not. Choose someone else to practice on, anyone else, but not him.”

  “The decision has been made,” she breezed, ignoring his upset. “I intend to take him to my bed tonight.”

  He strode over to stand only inches away from her, wrath evident in his every movement. But where many men would have backed away, Mélisande stood her ground.

  “I’ll kill him first.”

  His voice was chill, like something straight out of a grave. He meant it, she knew. But this was what she wanted, and she’d be damned if anyone, even her dearest friend, would stand in her way.

  “Do so, and I shall never forgive you or speak to you again,” she vowed just as coldly.

  “You are impassioned, Melly. You don’t know what—”

  “And about bloody time, wouldn’t you say? I’ve only waited five years for this to happen!”

  “Your judgment is clouded by desire, your logic impaired,” he said. “I beg you to rethink this.”

  She forced herself to respond in a calm, reasonable manner. “I’m thinking clearly for the first time in my life. I know what I want and I will have it. And not you, nor anyone or anything else is going to stop me. Now, you can either help me, or you can damn well get out of my way.”

  “You want me to help you have an affaire with Gravina?” he asked with an incredulous bark of laughter. “Surely you don’t think I’ll damn myself by doing such a thing?”

  “You’re the only person I know who can teach me how to go about it without getting caught,” she calmly replied. “I’m going to do this, David, with or without your approval. You may as well give in now, because I’m not going to change my mind.”

  Silence stretched as they stared at one another.

  “One condition,” he said at last.

  Mélisande raised a brow and mirrored his cross-armed stance, waiting.

  “If you get yourself with child, we get married.” His tone brooked no argument.

  After getting over the initial shock of his offer, Mélisande began to laugh in earnest. “Your motives are admirable, but such gallantry is misplaced. I’ve long known how to avoid conceiving.”

  “Nevertheless, I’ll have your word.”

  Rapping her fan on the back of a chair, Mélisande smiled. “I’m not a child anymore, David. I’ve never asked you or anyone else to fight my battles for me. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

  David sighed and shook his head. “I understand you wish to retain your autonomy, but this is not just about you. You know what it’s like to have the threat of bastardy hanging over your head. Surely you would not expose another innocent to such suffering, whether in secret or otherwise?”

  Her stomach roiled. Damn him for knowing exactly how to gouge her conscience!

  “If disaster strikes, you must come to me immediately,” he continued. “No one would question it if we married, and my name would provide a safe haven for both you and the child. I want your word,” he demanded again.

  Mélisande gritted her teeth. Such a promise was pointless, since she would never need to follow through on it, but she would say the words if it made him cooperate. “Fine. If I find myself in an untenable situation, I’ll marry you,” she grumbled, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

  “Your promise.”

  “Yes, yes. Very well. I promise. Now, naturally, I wish to begin as soon as possible,” she said, moving on to the more important topic, “but I’ve no idea how to go about such things. How do people conduct affaires?”

  “You cannot simply jump into this, Melly. It will take careful planning. If you were to choose someone else,” he tried again, “someone a bit less...noteworthy, perhaps, you could at least be discreet. But with Gravina, you have little chance of an affaire going unnoticed. Go ahead and take a lover. Take ten, if it pleases you, but not him!”

  The venom in his tone took her by surprise. “You truly despise him, don’t you? Why?” she asked, suspicious. “He’s done you no wrong.”

  “You were barely out of nappies.”

  “I was nearly fifteen!” Mélisande retorted, exasperated. “My parents were already planning my our—wedding, for pity’s sake. And why should it matter, anyway? You were only twelve when you tupped your bloody governess, and I happen to know she was more than ten years older than you! Besides, he didn’t know how old I was. I was dressed in my mother’s gown and I didn’t exactly announce my age—David, he didn’t know!” she insisted, seeing his jaw tighten in rejection of the facts. “I was just as much to blame for his conduct,” she admitted. “I kissed him back, after all.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, David sighed. “Couldn’t you choose someone else to initiate your fall from grace?”

  “No,” she replied firmly. Gravina was the only one who had ever made her feel anything. She’d waited five years. It could be another ten before anyone e
lse appeared, or it might never happen again. She could not simply let him walk away. If she did, she would regret it the rest of her life.

  “He’s not so awful, David—you’ll see. He’s a lot like you, or at least a lot like you used to be,” she dug at him. “Truthfully, I think we’re going to be great friends. He has his redeeming qualities like anyone else. Like you.”

  He blanched at the comparison. “I can see it’s useless trying to convince you to take a safer course.”

  Her smile broadened. “You ought to know by now that the safer path has never been my lot.” Ignoring his baleful glare, she continued. “Now. I believe location should be the first matter addressed.”

  A sullen mask of resignation settled over David’s features, and she knew she’d won.

  “The gentleman usually does the arranging,” he told her. “In this case, however,” he cut in before she could voice her protest, “I believe it would be to your advantage to retain control over the logistics. You’ll need to rent a house. It should be modest, nondescript, and in an area unfrequented by those who move within our level of society.”

  Mélisande’s mind leapt ahead. “It will need to be furnished and maintained. I’ll have to make purchases, hire staff,” she mused, “but I cannot suddenly begin making property inquiries and looking at furnishings, can I? Everyone would know within the day, and if they found out I was equipping a second town residence...”

  “Indeed,” David replied. “You’ll need an agent to do it for you. I would avoid using anyone familiar. Maintaining anonymity is going to be of the utmost importance.”

  Even as he said it, she knew it was impossible. Her voice and features were unmistakable. If she wore a veil to obscure her face, there was still her height and bearing, and of course it would all be over the moment she spoke. The more she thought about it, the more dangerous it seemed. She was an unwed, wealthy countess. An unscrupulous agent would most certainly threaten her with blackmail.

  She told him her thoughts. “But,” she added, her enthusiasm returning, “men make such arrangements all the time with no difficulty at all. If you were to do it, your solicitor would think you were merely setting up another mistress.” She waited anxiously, knowing that what she was asking was very nearly beyond the pale, even for David.

  “Fine. I’ll do it,” he snapped, glaring. “But only to save your fool’s hide from being lauded as a strumpet across the whole of England! Melly, you truly have no appreciation for the dangers involved in this insane decision! Even if you manage to avoid conceiving out of wedlock, there are other considerations. Society’s appetite for scandal knows no bounds. If you are exposed, it will be their meat and bread for a year and a day.”

  “I’m quite used to being the subject of speculation.” Mélisande laughed.

  “Not the kind I speak of. There are certain aspects of your family’s history that will not bear close examination. All it would take is a French seamstress or lady’s maid with a vague memory of your mother’s surname to trigger disaster. If someone were to uncover your mother’s involvement with Louis, you could lose everything.”

  Not wanting him to back out, Mélisande proceeded carefully. “Even if someone questioned my legitimacy, what proof is there? I cannot be disinherited on the basis of supposition and rumor.”

  “Perhaps not. But even so, that rumor would haunt you and your children for the rest of your lives. People would always wonder.”

  “I have very great appreciation for the danger, David, and I understand what’s at stake—truly I do—but even you must agree that after so long, the possibility of an inquiry pertaining to my legitimacy is remote, at best.” She waited half a heartbeat before continuing. “I assure you I shall be the soul of discretion. And I am most grateful for your assistance. You are quite correct in that I have not the faintest idea how to arrange something of this nature. I would soon be lost without your guidance.”

  “Wonderful. You’re thanking me for helping you become a harlot.”

  “David—”

  He shook his head and sighed. “Never mind me. I’ll learn to live with my choices, just the same as you. For good or ill.”

  “Then, you’ll help?” She waited.

  “You’ll need to hire a coach and driver, as well as servants to maintain the residence,” he said at last. “I know several trustworthy, reliable people, provided you are willing to pay well,” he said pointedly. “Secrecy comes at a high price.”

  “Money is no object,” she replied briskly, glad he was finally cooperating. “What else?” At his queer expression, she drew in a deep breath and rested her hands on her hips. “David, I must know how it’s done. I can’t expect you to manage things for me the entire time, and I don’t imagine you wish to do so, either.”

  “You’ll need to watch yourself on your arrivals and departures. Arrange to have the coachman drive around to the carriage house at least an hour before you intend to leave, as if you are having a visitor. Board there, and be sure the curtains are drawn before leaving. Disembark under cover at your destination, as well—not around front. And be sure to return before dawn, when there will be fewer people about on the streets to see an unmarked carriage arriving at your gate.”

  The need for secrecy was paramount. As a man, David could come and go as he pleased and never worry about his activities attracting undue interest. Mélisande knew she did not have that freedom.

  “You’ll need to arm your driver, as well,” he added. “He should double as a bodyguard. It’ll cost a goodly sum to secure such loyalty, but it’ll be absolutely necessary if you’re to be trotting about town in the wee hours. And you should also carry a pistol and be prepared to use it,” he said with a hard stare. “Your carriage may be accosted by thieves. Terrible things can happen to women who travel alone at night, Melly.”

  “I shall carry two,” she told him. “I’ve no compunction about killing a man should he enter my carriage uninvited.” And she didn’t. Anyone who dared attack her deserved to be shot. “Papa taught us how to shoot together, remember?”

  “Indeed. You can always flee to the Colonies, if things don’t go well,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “God knows if anyone can survive in that beastly backwater, it’s you. Now, you’ll need new clothes,” he continued, ticking off a finger. “They should be modest, but of good cut and material.”

  He ticked off another finger. “Carry very little money, only enough to secure the services of a runner and hire a coach.”

  A third finger. “Remain veiled while traveling and never under any circumstances become separated from your driver for any reason,” he stressed. “And keep the curtains drawn at all times when meeting with your...” He stopped awkwardly.

  “I understand,” she told him, nodding. She’d put him in a terrible position with her request, but there was no alternative. “I must remain anonymous,” she prompted.

  “At all costs,” he again adjured. “Flirt as outrageously as you please in public, only make certain no one catches you acting upon those flirtations beyond a certain point. Anything up to a modest kiss is acceptable without any real danger of reprisal. But if you get caught with your skirts up, God help you.”

  Mélisande raised a brow. “And what should I tell him?” she asked. “If the male usually does all the arranging, mightn’t he be annoyed?”

  “He should be bloody well delighted at having to bear neither the responsibility nor the cost!” David spat. “After all, you’ve made it easy for him, haven’t you? All he has to do is show up!”

  Mélisande arched a brow. “If you would rather I did this on my own...?” She might have to trust Gravina’s skill and discretion, after all. The thought did not please her, but there was little other choice if David decided to renege.

  “No,” David replied, rubbing his head. “No. You’d be sure to commit some disastrous blunder, it being your first time. You need someone to show you how to conduct your affaires with some discretion.”

  “My first time? Y
ou speak as if I plan to make a habit of this,” Mélisande laughed, uncomfortable with the insinuation.

  “Don’t you?” he asked, fixing her with an intent stare. “As you said, let us be realistic,” he drawled. “Once one has enjoyed the delights of Eros, it is but a matter of time before one seeks those delights again. It’s an addictive pleasure, Melly. And as you’ve no wish to marry the man, you will repeat your current course of action in the future.”

  Mélisande’s cheeks heated under his mocking gaze. “I’ve no plans to become a courtesan, if that’s what you’re insinuating!”

  “Perhaps not intentionally, but once you cross the line, things will look quite different from the other side, I assure you.” His shoulders lifted in a gesture of surrender. “If, for whatever reason, you choose to follow in your mother’s footsteps, I must take responsibility for my part in it and help you as I can to avoid the worst of the dangers involved.”

  Mélisande drew herself up to her full height, eyes flashing. “I am a countess, David. And a bloody wealthy one, at that! I’ve no need to sell my favors for money or advancement. And nor did my mother. She was of noble birth and chose to become mistress to a king! She certainly didn’t sell herself to the highest bidder!”

  David’s smile was full of irony. “Not all courtesans are in it for gain, Melly. There are those who do it purely for pleasure. Look at Lady Sutterfield, for example.”

  “Lady Sutterfield? A libertine?” Mélisande laughed. That particular matron was a highly respected widow—and one of her most vocal critics.

  “Oh, indeed.” David’s smile turned wolfish. “I know for a fact the lady maintains several lovers simultaneously and participates in all sorts of naughty indulgences. Yet she’s respected by everyone because she maintains the appearance of strict propriety. It’s a lie, and a damned good one.” He chuckled with clear appreciation. “She plays the part of a proper, chaste lady in public and keeps her debauchery quiet. That I’m telling you this violates a promise I made her years ago, but I trust you’ll hold your tongue.”

  The very idea of Lady Sutterfield engaging in anything even remotely resembling rampant debauchery was preposterous, but looking in his eyes, Mélisande knew he was telling the truth.

 

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