‘You are serious, then?’ his mother demanded, after studying him as he’d sat silent, lost in thought. ‘Have you a candidate in mind?’
‘No. Which is why I need Aunt Augusta. I’m hardly a romantic, Mama. I’m not expecting to discover a woman who inspires me to write bad verse, like Lord Rogers.’
Even if his friends did seem to have found such joy, he thought, the loneliness that had dogged him of late deepened by a wistful envy.
‘All I require is a respectable young lady of good birth who can manage my household and give me heirs. Not a chit right from the schoolroom, of course; even a young widow would do. Although that’s not absolutely required, someone with an interest in politics would be a plus. As I’ve always avoided parties where respectable virgins gather, besides my sisters, I don’t know any. Hence my need for Aunt Gussie.’
‘A respectable young lady of good birth to manage your household and give you heirs? Sounds like a devilishly cold arrangement.’
‘Come now, Mama, you can’t claim to have been rapturously in love with every one of your...admirers!’
‘I was when the liaison began,’ she shot back.
‘A prudent match doesn’t have to be cold,’ he argued, not surprised she resisted the idea, after having been disposed of herself in a completely dispassionate manner. ‘I know better than to wed someone to whom I am indifferent, or who feels nothing for me. There’s no reason I couldn’t share a mutual respect and affection with a more...traditional woman.’
‘“Mutual respect” with a “traditional” woman?’ She shook her head. ‘Christopher, darling, you’re much too like me for such a match to ever work! After a decade of liaisons with the most beautiful, witty and seductive of females, a dutiful, respectable virgin would bore you to flinders. And what of passion?’
‘Just because a female is respectable doesn’t mean she must lack passion.’
She sniffed. ‘If that were true, I’d have far fewer married admirers.’
Giving up on that tack, Christopher continued, ‘I’ve reached the age where the idea of returning home to tranquillity and peace in the arms of a friend sounds more attractive than a night of drinking and debauchery in the bed of a courtesan.’
He wouldn’t admit to her—or even to himself—that the idea of possessing an eminently respectable wife did sound a bit dull. Or how much the loss of the camaraderie of the three now-married men who’d been closer than family to him for a decade was driving this newfound resolve to take a wife. Once he, too, married, their intimate circle would again be complete.
But above all, he couldn’t confess he felt compelled to wed that eminently respectable female so his own children would never have to wonder who their father was, endure the sniggers and whispers of their peers about their mother—or bear the cold disinterest of the man who was legally their father.
Such a confession would sound too much like an indictment. And despite all the turmoil, slights and indignities he’d endured growing up, he truly did love his volatile mother.
The disapproving expression on her face told him she wasn’t convinced. Before he could think of another argument to persuade her, a knock sounded at the door, followed by the entrance of a tall, dark-haired woman.
Seeing him sitting beside his mother, the lady halted, her smile fading. ‘I’m sorry, Felicia! I don’t mean to intrude. Billings told me you were free.’
‘Ellie!’ Lady Vraux cried, jumping up from the couch in a swirl of silken draperies to go meet the newcomer. ‘Of course, you’re not interrupting—I got your note, and was expecting you! How are you, my dear? I haven’t seen you this age!’
Gladness warming him, Christopher stood and drank in the pleasure of watching the quiet elegance that was Ellie Parmenter walk across the room. Though it must be ten years now since they’d met, each time he saw her he felt the same sense of awe—and sharp pull of sensual attraction—he’d felt the first time he’d beheld her in his mother’s drawing room, when he’d returned from Oxford on a term break. Her figure lush and well formed, her movements grace personified, her pale face perfection beneath a curly mass of dark hair, she had huge violet eyes with an air of mystery about them that he’d immediately lost himself in. The young collegian had been first mesmerised, then dismayed and disappointed to discover that this beauty a few years younger than himself was in keeping to a dissolute, much older peer.
Though neither she nor his mama had ever volunteered the details, he knew there’d been something havey-cavey about the way she’d come to be Summerville’s mistress. He’d been happy for her when the man died last autumn, freeing her from that relationship.
Had he not been entangled at the time with the Divine Clarissa, he might have pursued her himself.
‘I’m quite well,’ Ellie was saying as she returned his mother’s embrace. ‘I can wait in the drawing room until you finish your chat with Christopher.’
‘Nonsense! I’m sure he’d be interested in hearing your news, too. Wouldn’t you, my dear?’
‘I would indeed. Although, since I’m the one who turned up unexpectedly, if you ladies would prefer to have a comfortable coze, I could leave.’
‘No, please, stay, Christopher,’ Ellie said, echoing his mother’s request.
That matter disposed of, his mother rang for tea and, arm in arm with her visitor, proceeded to the sofa. He waved Ellie to the seat he’d just vacated and she took it, her dark beauty a perfect foil to his mother’s blonde loveliness.
‘So, what have you been doing to occupy yourself since Summerville’s demise, when you left the social scene?’ his mother demanded. ‘Not mourning, surely. More like celebrating, I’d expect.’
‘I was...ready to move on,’ Ellie allowed, her expression unreadable.
‘Summerville did leave you that charming little house, as well as an annuity, didn’t he?’ his mother asked. ‘Why don’t you set yourself up with a snug little gaming establishment, like Madame Aurelie? I know you have friends in the demi-monde who would be happy to work for you. The gentlemen would certainly flock there, wouldn’t they, Christopher?’
A gaming hell with Ellie as its mistress? There was no doubt. ‘Absolutely. You’d be a smashing success.’
‘Set that up, and you’d never have to worry about running out of money,’ his mother said. ‘As an independent woman, you’d retain control of your own funds and your own establishment—giving you more freedom and security than a married woman ever has.’
‘If not the respect of Society,’ Ellie murmured.
‘No great loss, that,’ Lady Vraux said with a shrug. ‘I would choose independence and control over my fortune any day! But since I take it that option doesn’t appeal, what do you intend to do? Not start that school for wayward females you mentioned when we last met, I hope!’
‘Actually, I have started it,’ Ellie said, giving his mother an apologetic smile. ‘I’d been thinking of doing something like that for years, particularly for girls born at fancy houses who don’t want to follow their mothers into the trade. It’s true that courtesans at the highest levels have the independence you so admire, but few females achieve that. Most girls caught up in the life can never leave it, either because they have no other way to support themselves, or because the madam or pimp controlling them won’t permit it. Which is why I was so grateful for Lord Witlow’s assistance in the matter of the girl who trapped Ben Tawny at the Quill and Gavel,’ she said, looking over at Christopher.
‘It’s Ben and the rest of us Hellions who owe you thanks,’ Christopher responded. ‘Without your sleuthing efforts and your knowledge of the demi-monde, we’d never have found her, and Ben might have been facing the ruin of his Parliamentary career. We’ve worked too hard for too long to lose one of our key members now, when the reforms we’ve struggled to advance are so close to being implemented.’
‘Yes,
I read that your Third Reform Bill passed the Commons. Congratulations!’
Christopher nodded his thanks. ‘Now we just have to get it through the Lords. Though a few peers, like Lady Maggie’s father, are reasonable, a great many recalcitrants will try to drag their heels. Another reason we’re grateful that, with your help, we’ve still got Ben with us in the fight.’
‘I’m so thankful for your mama and all her kindness over the years. I was only too happy to do what I could.’ She gave him that sweet smile that always made his heart lift. ‘Most women of her class ignore me like an unpleasant odour. No one but Felicia has ever condescended, not just to acknowledge me, but to offer friendship. Still, had Lord Witlow not stepped in to guarantee the girl’s safety, she would have been too afraid of retribution for me to persuade her to come forward. Once he’d been made aware of the situation—and what I hoped to do for other girls—his lordship not only took steps to protect Jane, he invested in the project, allowing me to begin the school at once. I shall be indebted for ever.’
‘We are all indebted that the two of you worked in concert to clear Ben’s name,’ Christopher said.
A knock at the door, followed by the entry of the butler with the tea tray, brought a momentary halt to the conversation. Once they were settled with cups in hand, Ellie yielding to his mother’s request that she pour for them, Christopher turned back to her.
Curious about her unusual endeavour, Christopher asked, ‘How do you find the girls for your school?’
‘Are you sure you want to know more? I can become quite enthused when talking about my project,’ she cautioned.
‘Yes, I truly want to know,’ he assured her.
‘Very well. Working girls, or those with a friend or relative who has a daughter who aspires to a different life, send them to me. Or sometimes I find them at the posting inns, where I try to intercept country girls who’ve come to town looking for work, before the bawds can spirit them away.’
Lady Vraux frowned. ‘Isn’t that dangerous? I imagine the bawds don’t like being robbed of their pigeons!’
‘I’m sure they don’t,’ Ellie agreed. ‘When he learned what I intended, Lord Witlow insisted I have a burly man to accompany me. As it turns out, he engaged the bully boy at the house from which they obtained the girl meant to entrap Mr Tawny. It seems the man was sweet on her, and after Witlow helped her escape, was ready to trade his current employment for some honest work where he might be able to continue the acquaintance.’
‘Well, it’s commendable of you, my dear, setting up the school, but nobility does become rather dull. Surely you leave yourself some time for amusements—concerts, the theatre?’
Ellie smiled faintly, shaking her head. ‘I don’t go out much any more.’
‘To avoid being pestered by gentlemen hoping to persuade you to let them take Summerville’s place?’ his mother guessed. ‘Lovely as you are, I’m certain you’ve had offers! If you don’t intend to open an establishment that will earn you a reliable income, you must find some other way to secure your future. Are you planning to take another protector?’
‘No,’ Ellie said flatly, the bleakness that swiftly crossed her face before she masked it suddenly recalling one of Christopher’s earliest memories of her.
It must have been only a few weeks after they’d first met. Answering a summons by his mama to escort her home from a definitely disrespectable masquerade ball after her nominal escort had fallen into a drunken stupor, he’d encountered Ellie alone in one of the anterooms, weeping. Seeing him, she’d hastily wiped away the tears, insisted there was nothing wrong, and led him to his mother. Not knowing how to get her to confide in him, he’d let it go. But the devastation he’d read on her face then had struck him deeply—as did the glimpse of it he’d just seen.
No more certain now how to ask her about it, before he could speak, his mother continued, ‘But how are you to live, if you do not allow another gentleman to provide for you? You have the house, and Summerville was certainly generous with gifts, but even if you sell some jewels, it won’t cover your expenses for ever. Not with servants to pay, and candles, coal and all manner of victuals to be bought, to say nothing of clothing. To wrap your loveliness in outdated gowns would be a travesty!’
Ellie laughed. ‘I think I can tolerate the indignity of wearing last year’s fashions. Summerville was generous with his gifts, and thanks to your advice, I obtained that annuity and some other assets that will allow me to remain independent. I can maintain myself for a good long while before I have to worry about where my next meal is coming from.’
‘Is it the notoriety of living outside wedlock that holds you back?’ his mother persisted. ‘I can’t believe a lady as young and beautiful as you prefers to exist without...masculine attention.’
Again, Christopher caught a glimpse of distress before Ellie could submerge it. ‘I’ve quite had my fill of “masculine attention” these last few years. Nor does the idea of additional notoriety bother me. I’m not naive enough to think I can erase the past; even were I to live the rest of my life as chastely as a nun, I will always be known as a kept woman.’
‘We are all kept women, my dear,’ his mother replied, a look of bitterness passing over her face. ‘Some of us are trapped by wedding lines. You, at least, still have the power to choose your path. Don’t discount that freedom.’ Then, her face clearing, she said, ‘But enough of this sober talk. Let me tell you something that is certain to amuse you. Christopher just announced he has taken it into his head to marry! Is that not the most ridiculous notion you’ve ever heard?’
‘I’m so glad my intention to reform myself into a respectable gentleman inspires you to hilarity,’ Christopher said wryly, as his mother went off into another peal of laughter.
‘Come, you must dissuade him of the nonsensical idea, Ellie! You’ve encountered him in enough disreputable places and scandalous company to recognise he’s not sober husband material. Christopher, remaining devoted to a single woman?’ She shook her head. ‘He ought to spare some earnest, virtuous virgin a lifetime of sorrow and abandon the notion forthwith.’
Although she didn’t succumb to mirth like his mother, Ellie’s lovely eyes were definitely dancing when she glanced at him. ‘I must allow, Christopher, up to now, you’ve shown a preference for ladies more renowned for a...particular kind of skill than for their virtue, and an ever-changing parade of them at that.’
‘Indeed!’ his mother agreed. ‘Remember that soprano from the Theatre Royal—was it a vase she threw at you, Christopher? You’ve still got the scar on your chin! And the time you stole Harrington’s doxy out from under his nose, and he threatened to call you out! And then there was—’
‘Please, must you list all my indiscretions?’ Christopher protested, half-amused, half-embarrassed. ‘I agree, I’ve not exactly been a...model of punctilious deportment, but a man can change. Can’t he, Ellie?’
Instead of the witty riposte he expected, she stared at him—those magnificent violet eyes making his breath hitch, as they always did on the rare occasions when she gave him her full attention. ‘I don’t know, Christopher. I expect a man can reform, if he wants to badly enough.’ A faint smile touched her lips. ‘Unlike a female, even a truly notorious man can choose to turn respectable.’
Is that what caused the lingering sadness he saw in her eyes? Christopher wondered. She’d always seemed, and he’s always treated her, as a lady, despite her position as Summerville’s mistress. Had she once been respectable, and been robbed of that reputation by some cruel circumstance? He really must press his mother for more details about her background.
‘You’re young enough, you’ve plenty of time to change your mind,’ his mother told her. ‘When you meet a gentleman too charming to resist—or when you’ve run out of the ready.’
Setting down her teacup, Ellie made a face at her. ‘I hope to avoid both outc
omes. But now, I should be getting on. I must check on the school, then discharge some errands before Lady Lydlington meets me there tomorrow.’
‘Giles’s wife Maggie has taken an interest in your work?’ Christopher asked, surprised.
‘Yes. Though I’ve been giving Lord Witlow the credit, I’m fairly certain it was his daughter Maggie who encouraged Witlow to provide protection for Mr Tawny’s accuser, for me on my forays into the posting inns, and prompted him to sponsor the school. I doubt a man of Lord Witlow’s position would have had any notion there might be a need for such things.’
Ellie shook her head, smiling. ‘The first time Lady Lyndlington visited the school, I told her I couldn’t believe her father would permit her to associate with me—or that her husband would, now that’s she’s in a delicate condition. She laughed, saying that since she’d married a radical, her papa already knew she wouldn’t let a little thing like Society’s disapproval stop her from helping a good cause. She found it fulfilling, she said, to assist to a better life girls who’d been born without the advantages she possesses. Her courage and graciousness remind me of you, Felicia. Though I don’t mean to suggest she considers me a friend, of course,’ Ellie added quickly.
‘You did one of her husband’s closest friends a great service. Why shouldn’t she befriend you?’ Christopher asked.
A slight flush coloured Ellie’s lovely face. ‘The daughter of an earl, the wife of a viscount and Member of Parliament, on intimate terms with... It’s quite impossible, Christopher, and you know it,’ she added, an unusual sharpness in her tone.
‘Perhaps for Lady Maggie,’ his mother inserted with a grin. ‘She’s far more respectable than I am!’
‘Well I, for one, can only be glad you’ve chosen to be slightly scandalous!’ Ellie said, leaning over to give Lady Vraux a hug. ‘Now I must go.’
‘Thank you again for the visit,’ his mother said. ‘Please, do come back soon! Even if it’s only to ask for money to support your noble cause.’
Secret Lessons with the Rake Page 2