Rags to Romance

by Killarney Sheffield

  “I know what your establishment is. I’ve word my new husband is on his way to visit a woman here and I would like to change his plans.”

  “Really?” The madam studied her for a moment. “Please, sit down and do explain.”

  “There is not much to explain.” Finny took a seat. “My husband married me to fulfill an inheritance requirement and in doing so he saved me from Whitechapel. I’ve worked hard to better myself and I’ll not let the likes of some fancy lady born with a silver spoon in her mouth take what I’ve worked so hard fer—for, especially the likes of a whore for that matter.”

  “And just who pray tell is your husband?”

  “Lord Devon Dowell.”

  Madame Jolie’s eyes grew large. “You are the scrawny bit of baggage it is rumored he married?” She blinked. “And you think one of my courtesans has her cap set on your husband?”

  “No. He has his cap set on some lady he met while sailing the seas, but he thinks to annul our marriage and the only way I can think of to stop it is to … sleep with him.” Finny set the money on the table. “I want a room for the night and my husband sent to it, without him being told, that is.”

  The Madame eyed the money. “And why would he sleep with you here and not in your own bed?”

  “Because you are going to help me fool him into thinking I am one of your … girls, so I may gain the upper hand on this lady who has seduced him with her letters.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Because my mother is your half-sister.”

  The Madame gasped. “Finny?”

  Finny nodded.

  “Well … I suppose I could help you out, but you must wear a disguise. I’d not want my patrons to think I allow ladies of the upper crust in here … even if they are in reality Whitechapel morts.” She got to her feet. “This way.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Finny tossed the mask on the bedside table. There was no need of it while she was in the room, for she was sure her husband would not recognize her. The room was nicer than she ever dreamed a brothel’s would be. Of course this was an establishment catering to the well-doers of society, not the common man. A large curtained bed sat in the middle of the room. To one side was a cozy fireplace flanked by a settee and two chairs. Chilled wine rested in a bucket along with a tray of finger foods and two crystal glasses.

  She crossed to the table and plucked a ripe red strawberry from the basket and popped it in her mouth. It seemed no expense was spared to make a nobleman feel at home while he did the dirty deed with a high class whore. The idea of what she was about to do made her palms sweat and she wiped her hand on a cloth placed beneath the wine bucket. Perhaps she should have asked her aunt for some pointers. She snickered, the sound making her jump. How hard could seducing one man be? She recalled the bitch in heat that mated with the shopkeeper’s dog in Whitechapel. Doing the dirty in any language was pretty much the same wasn’t it? The two dogs wagged their tails, rubbed on each other and licked each other’s faces before the female stood for the male to mount her and put his thing in her private spot. There seemed nothing to it really. Being stuck together for many minutes afterward would be the awkward part she supposed….

  Footsteps approached the door and she scrambled to the bed to lie down in the most seductive pose she could imagine. She tugged the bodice down on her gown a little more to display her breasts and then smiled as the door opened.

  The man who entered took her breath away. Her husband was even handsomer than she remembered in her dreams. His chestnut hair was bleached even lighter by the sea air and his skin bronzed by the sun. He shut the door behind and scanned the room until his gaze settled on her. “You are not Dolly.”

  “No, my lord, I’m not. Dolly is no longer here.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What happened to her and why was I not told?”

  Finny forced a sweet smile to her lips. “She left rather suddenly, my lord, but the Madame thought you might enjoy my services for the night.”

  Casting her a skeptical look he crossed and pored himself a glass of wine. “Why is that?”

  “I am new, my lord, and she was certain you would want to be the first to try my … favors.” Finny choked and then cleared her throat.

  “I see.” He poured a second glass of wine and approached the bed. “I really was not interested in a tryst tonight….”

  Cad! It took great care to keep her smile from slipping as she reached for the glass he held out. “Since you have been away at sea she thought to make tonight a gift.”

  He came to stand by the bedside. “That was most thoughtful of her … however I think I should go.”

  She sat up, sloshing a little red wine on the white sheets in her haste. “Oh, no, my lord, please don’t go. Why, how would it look to the other girls and patrons if I failed to … sleep … ah, satisfy my first customer? I would be so humiliated.”

  His deep blue eyes twinkled. “I would not want your reputation to suffer, miss…?”

  Finny scrambled for a name. “Kathrine, my lord.” She grimaced at her pick.

  “Well, Kathrine, I have been at sea a very long time. Perhaps a little romp to take the edge off things would be wise. I’ve a mind to court a lovely young lady though, so this will be only a one-time visit. Do you understand?”

  She grinned. “One time is all I need, my lord.”

  He looked puzzled for a moment, but then set down his glass and removed his coat and cravat. “All right, do with me what you will, Kathrine, I am sure my manhood will appreciate your skills.”

  “Fudge!” Finny spat, almost choking on her wine. She had no ‘skills’ to speak of, whatever bedchamber skills were anyway.

  “Pardon?”

  Pasting a stiff smile on her lips she clarified. “I said, fine. You will enjoy my fine skills, my lord.” She handed him her glass. Now what? She pictured the dogs. Right. With a coy smile she slipped from the bed. After he set the glass on the bedside table she ran her hands through his hair and down to his shoulders. Avoiding his gaze she trailed them down his arms and then back up his shirt front with the hem of the garment pinched between her thumbs and forefingers. He raised his arms to allow her to slip the shirt from him and she tossed it to the floor. When he frowned she scooped it up and laid it across the end of the bed. Her gaze traveled the length of his bronze torso. She had seen the woodcutter without a shirt one day, but he was nowhere near as muscled and firm as the man before her. Without thinking she licked her lips.

  A slow smile spread across his lips. “Do you like what you see?”

  “Oh, yes,” she breathed. She paused to consider her options. Now what? Lick him … no kiss, yes, kissing would be good … and maybe licking … perhaps both? She lowered her head and nuzzled his ear. When he didn’t protest she licked his lobe and then ran her tongue down the side of his neck to his collarbone. His breath hitched and then quickened. Since her techniques appeared to be having some effect on him she continued on, kissing, licking and nibbling his neck and chest. He groaned soft and low. His light scent filled her nostrils. It was manly yet not overpowering. In effort to focus her thoughts she tried to recall a conversation she overheard between the maids one day. Something about placing one’s tongue in the man’s mouth … should I try it? Gathering her courage she straightened, closed her eyes and leaned in to press her lips to his. They were warm and soft under her own. Running her fingers up his chest she circled the little nubs there to still her shaking hands. He sighed and opened his mouth. Tentative and unsure, she slipped her tongue in and brushed his. Something tightened deep down inside and she squirmed against him. As their tongues began to spar he groaned and drew her to him, burying his hands in her hair.

  “You are a temptress, for sure,” he breathed.

  Her heart did a little leap. He likes what I am doing. Without warning his hands were suddenly everywhere. Not knowing how the buttons came to be undone, her gown loosened and then slipped to the floor in a whisper of silk. Rough finger
s cupped and then stroked the sensitive flesh of her breasts through her chemise. She gasped at the sensation dampening her inner thighs as he plunged his tongue into her mouth. He was panting and it took a moment for her to realize she was breathing almost as hard as he. The core of her most intimate place throbbed and pulsed. She knew what she wanted, needed, but was afraid he would discover her inexperience if she were to voice it. As luck would have it she didn’t need to.

  Her husband pulled her to him and lay down. His lips wandered from her head to her bosoms as he rolled her over. The corset and chemise somehow ended up tossed to the floor, though in the flurry of lips, groping hands and intense emotion, Finny had no idea how. When his manhood pressed against her secret place she barely had time to tense before he thrust inside. She bit her lip to smother her cry of pain, tasting her own blood on her tongue as he broke her maidenhead. A tear slipped down her cheek from the pain, but she ignored it as he thrust in and out, none the wiser as he kissed her. He was hers now. She wouldn’t have to worry about some haughty lady trying to steal him away.

  * * *

  Hours later after they made love not once, but twice, Finny slipped from the arms of her sleeping husband. As quiet as possible she dressed, leaving off the corset and left, well pleased with herself. She summoned the waiting coach and directed it back to the townhouse. Wouldn’t his lordship be surprised on the morrow to discover he slept with his own wife? She had turned herself into a lady, made sure he consummated the marriage, now all she had left to do was make him fall in love with her. How hard could that be?

  Chapter Fifteen

  After a long soak in the bathing tub the next morning to ease the soreness between her thighs, Finny took care in selecting her morning dress. She settled on a deep bottle green velvet, which made her waist look exceptionally small, and then sat so the maid could wind a matching ribbon through her hair. When she was satisfied with her appearance she donned her slippers and headed downstairs.

  It had occurred to her after arriving home and slipping back into her bedchamber her husband would have two possible reactions to her deception. He was going to be shocked for sure, but would he be happy or angry with her? She supposed he’d be angry at first, but surely he’d see why she had done it and would understand that accepting their marriage was the right and honorable thing to do. Yes, he was a kind and honorable man. Didn’t he rescue her from the prospect of being sent to Newgate, or cast in a house of ill repute? She would allow him his few minutes of fury and then he would respect her for forcing him to do the right thing. He was going to fall in love with her so fast he’d forget her little deception. And with his sister Kat on her side everything would be smoothed over in no time.

  With a little skip in her step she entered the dining room. The dowager looked up from her plate of toast triangles and coddled eggs. Finny, smiled at her despite the woman’s glower and looked to the head of the table. A wall of newspaper greeted her gaze. She cleared her throat. The paper crinkled and then lowered. The earl met her gaze. His eyes grew round and she struggled to keep from giggling at his shocked expression.

  “Good morning, husband. I am so happy you have returned to London safe and sound.”

  “Bloody hell!”

  The dowager frowned. “Really, Devon, such shocking language and at the dining table no less. I would appreciate if you left your ship language at sea when you are home.” She glanced back and forth between Finny’s amused smile and Devon’s slack-jawed stare. “Honestly, boy, you would think you never saw a female before. It is just the little trollop you dumped on my doorstep in a fancy dress, nothing else.” With a roll of her eyes she returned to her breakfast.

  “You!” Devon spat, dropping the newspaper to the table where it tented over his half-eaten meal.

  “Good Lord. Have you forgotten the chit’s name?” The dowager shook her head. “It is hard to forget such an awful name like Finny.”

  “What kind of trickery have you pulled?” The earl stood as Finny slipped into her chair to conceal her shaking limbs.

  “Nothin’.” She swallowed, but refrained from correcting her slip in speech.

  The dowager dropped her fork with a clatter. “What the devil is going on here? You look as if you have seen a ghost, Devon. I assure you this is the one and only, girl you brought home almost a year ago. Have you finally realized your folly at the sight of her?”

  “The only folly committed was last eve, stepmother.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Finny dropped her gaze to her plate.

  “I … bedded her last night, only I didn’t know it was her … I mean she didn’t tell me. Damn it! What were you doing at the Madame’s? Did you know all along it was me?”

  She nodded without looking up.

  “Why did you deceive me?”

  Finny raised her gaze and met his angry stare. His full lips were squashed into a straight line, eyes flashing with temper and his fists clenched at his sides. He looked mad enough to do her harm and she hoped she hadn’t misjudged him. Perhaps he wasn’t as kind and gentle as she thought….

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I…” She looked to the dowager who was now as white as his lordship’s cravat. Drawing upon every ounce of courage she possessed she looked her husband in the eye. “I didn’t want t’lose you t’some … some fancy lady. You married me an’, and I worked so hard t’transform myself into a lady fer, for you. It wasn’t fair. I love you and I know you will love me. You married me after all. Surely you feel something for me that might bloom into love.”

  He pinned her with a hard look. “I married you to stick it to my stepmother and teach her a lesson about meddling, nothing more.” Without another word he stomped from the room and a moment later the front door slammed with a reverberating crash.

  “You wet goose. Did you actually believe my stepson could fall for the likes of a Whitechapel wench? I could laugh at naivety if I wasn’t so appalled you actually prostituted yourself to keep him.” The dowager stood. “Rest assured, I will see this marriage ended no matter what it takes.” She sailed from the room in a flurry of silken skirts.

  Finny looked down at her plate now blurred by her tears. What did I do? Will my husband ever forgive me?

  The butler entered the room. “Lady Swanson is here.” He glanced around the room with a puzzled expression. Before he could remark on the absence of the dowager and the earl, Kat entered the room.

  Kat frowned when she spied Finny. “Finny dear, what’s wrong?”

  A sob bubbled from Finny as she looked up at Kat. “Oh, I’ve made a horrid mess of everythin’!” She scrambled from her chair and fled to her room. A few moments later someone knocked on her door.

  “Go ’way!”

  “Finny,” Kat called from the other side. “Please let me in. Whatever has happened I am sure we can fix it.”

  “I already fixed it. I fixed it good … well … whatever!” Finny wailed and then buried her head in her pillow when the door opened.

  Kat’s soft footfalls crossed the room and then the bed dipped under her weight as she sat on the edge. She stroked Finny’s head. “What happened, Finny?”

  Finny sat up and sniffled. “I … I pretended t’be someone else and seduced my husband and we … you know … and now he’s angry at me … I made a huge mistake.”

  “You seduced and shared your bed with my brother, your husband?”

  Sniffling Finny swiped at the tears on her cheeks and nodded.

  Kat cracked a smile. “Well, good for you. There is nothing wrong with seducing your husband after all.”

  “There is, ifn’ he don’t know it’s me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Finny explained and repeated the conversation she overheard about the earl being in love with another lady. Kat listened and then sat in silence for a moment. “I see. Well, it seems to me you did accomplish your goal, Finny. I can’t say I agree with your methods though. However, what’s done is done a
nd there’s no sense crying over a box of dumped bon-bons now, is there?”

  “What?”

  She smiled. “You got what you wanted. You have worked hard to become a lady and you have found a way to stay married to my brother. It seems to me there is only one thing left, to make him fall in love with you.”

  Finny took the dainty handkerchief Kat handed her and dabbed at her eyes before blowing her nose in it. “But he hates me now.”

  Lady Swanson patted her hand. “Oh pish, he doesn’t hate you. Granted he’s going to be a little angry for a while. Once he gets over it he’ll see how lucky he is to have you, you’ll see.”

  “Do you really think so?” Finny cast her a doubtful look.

  “I know so. Now, tidy yourself up. You promised to help me shop for the rest of the things for the nursery today.” She stood and pulled Finny from the bed. “Come on.”

  After crossing to the dressing table Finny patted her hair back in place. She met Kat’s gaze in the mirror. “What if his lordship and I have made a babe?”

  “All the better, my dear, for I know my brother could not resist a baby.” She grinned, but it didn’t quite cover the worry in her eyes.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Devon stormed out the front door and stalked down the street, not caring where he went as long as he put as much distance between himself and the townhouse as possible. Damn her! How could she? How did she know I was going to be at Madame Jolie’s? He kicked at a loose stone. He was angry enough to do her bodily harm. Now instead of quietly annulling the marriage and sending Finny on her way with a tidy enough sum to keep her in relative comfort for the rest of her days, he was shackled to her. And what of his lovely Lady Josephine? She was the first woman to capture his interest. Sure she seemed at little course in some of her letters, but she was down to earth, sensible, kind, funny and unlike the mindless debutantes circling the ballrooms of London. Why, she even wanted to sail with him to foreign countries and see the world. An adventurous woman was a rarity for sure. And now instead of finding and marrying his dream woman he was forced to remain with a girl who was raised in the gutters of the great unwashed….