There were twenty-two young women enrolled now, and the fees were waived for those who signed a voucher promising to donate a portion of their first year’s income to Fleur and Chantel’s debt relief fund.
In addition to speech and manners and deportment, the girls learned about proper dress, dining at table, pouring tea, conversing with the gentility, dancing, attending the opera and theater…the myriad skills needed to enhance their prospects of securing wealthy, well-born patrons.
Almost all of her pupils, Lily believed, would be ready for the soiree, which was to be held next week, although she was in truth surprised by their rapid progress. Yet as Fleur had predicted, the girls were eager for the chance to significantly improve their circumstances.
“For finding rich men to support them,” Fleur had said more than once, “is the only way they will ever rise up out of poverty. It is the way of the world, Lily dear.”
The courtesans’ view was pragmatic by necessity. And admittedly, living here with them in their rooming house had opened Lily’s eyes to an entirely different world, much of which was not pleasant or adventurous in the least. She’d thought she understood the plight of penniless females in society, since she and her sisters had faced destitution and homelessness after their family scandal. But some of the young women here were much worse off than she had ever been.
On the whole, however, her pupils were a cheerful bunch. Thanks to Fanny and the elder courtesans, they had safe, genteel lodgings to call home, which was more than most actresses and opera dancers could claim. And many of the girls actually seemed to enjoy their extra employment as ladies of the evening. They had chosen this life, just as Fanny and Fleur and Chantel had. Yet there were some who had been forced into the flesh trade unwillingly.
Those were the ones Lily wanted most to help. Those unfortunate incognitas who were trapped in a profession they despised. Lily had already managed to help two of them escape by sending them home to Roslyn at Danvers Hall to join the manor staff as chambermaids. It was menial labor, true, and the jobs paid less than the girls made as lightskirts, but they considered serving in a noble household better work by far than earning their livings in a brothel.
It had brought Lily profound satisfaction to provide the two girls new lives. And she understood now why Tess strove so hard for her special charities.
She’d recruited Tess as an instructor twice a week, and Basil Eddowes taught speech classes early each morning before leaving for his work. Fleur and Chantel had thrown their hearts into mentoring the girls, and Fanny had won their adoration by sharing her secrets of becoming desirable to men.
The girls seemed most grateful for Lily’s efforts, which also gratified her. From the first moment of the first class, it had quickly became clear to her that these young women needed her far more than the rich daughters she taught at the Freemantle Academy.
Additionally, Lily felt a humbling gratitude for her own comparatively good fortune. She and her sisters knew what it was to be at the mercy of fate. It made Lily shudder to think that they might have been forced into prostitution themselves, had not their step-uncle felt obliged to take them in, however grudgingly.
As for Mick O’Rourke, he seemed to be biding his time, waiting for the agreed-upon grace period to be over.
Yet Fanny had been busy with another endeavor to raise money. Rather than writing her memoirs, she had penned a manuscript based on her recent letters to Roslyn, entitled, “Advice to Young Ladies on Capturing a Husband.” The publisher anticipated brisk sales among the ton’s debutantes when the book eventually went to print early this fall.
Lily’s only regret now was that during the past month, Roslyn had fallen hopelessly in love with the Duke of Arden and become betrothed. If she’d remained at home to protect Roslyn, Lily lamented, perhaps she might have stopped her sister from making such a drastic mistake.
At least Arabella and Marcus still seemed to be happy. They had just returned to Danvers Hall from their monthlong wedding journey, according to Roslyn.
Lily yearned to see her sisters again, although not enough to risk encountering the Marquess of Claybourne.
Her gaze darkened as she remembered the dismaying letter Roslyn had sent her yesterday, warning that the marquess might not have lost interest in her. Reportedly Claybourne had made an unexpected trip to Hampshire in search of her.
He’d been directed there by Winifred, who was highly disgruntled to discover Lily was not visiting friends in her former neighborhood as she wanted everyone to believe.
Lily couldn’t help but worry about his lordship’s persistence. She’d been confident that she had escaped him. But apparently “out of sight” did not mean “out of mind” to him.
With any luck, though, he would never find her here, Lily thought as she moved from one elegantly set table to the next.
The score of female diners looked just as elegant as the place settings, all dressed in evening gowns even though it was barely two o’clock in the afternoon. They were practicing the art of drinking soup without slurping, and Lily had very few corrections to make.
She had just signaled the two manservants to clear away the soup plates and bring in the next course when she was approached by a chambermaid, who whispered in her ear.
“Beg pardon for intruding, Miss Loring, but you have a gentleman caller who wishes to speak with you.”
Lily felt her heart skip a beat. No gentlemen of her acquaintance even knew she was here…unless…. Surely Lord Claybourne had not found her. “Did the gentleman give a name?”
“No, miss, but he looks like a fancy lord—and he acts like one, too. Said to tell you that he has ‘enough patience to outlast you,’ whatever that means.”
Regrettably she knew exactly what that meant. Lily drew an uneven breath, alarmed at the thought of having to face the marquess again. “You put him in Miss Delee’s sitting room, Ellen?”
“No, miss. He asked to be shown to your bedchamber.”
“My bedchamber?” Her tone had risen in pitch, but when Lily realized that several curious pairs of eyes had turned in her direction, she lowered her voice. “My bedchamber is not the proper place for a gentleman caller, Ellen.”
“I know, Miss Loring, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
It sounded just like Lord Claybourne, Lily thought, torn between exasperation and vexation.
Vexation won out when Ellen added, “He said you would rather have a private interview there than have him come to the dining room with your pupils present.”
At the implied threat, Lily pressed her lips together in irritation. Obviously she had no choice but to receive him in her bedchamber, since she didn’t want him making a scene in front of an audience.
“Do you want me to fetch Miss Delee to deal with him?” the maid asked nervously at Lily’s silence.
“No, I will see him, thank you, Ellen.”
After politely excusing herself from her pupils for a moment, Lily left the dining room and took the back stairs. Deliberately ignoring the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, she climbed two flights to her own floor and marched down the corridor to her bedchamber. The door was shut, but she pushed it open—and came up short at the sight of Lord Claybourne.
He was actually lounging on her bed, his back propped up against the pillows, one booted leg casually drawn up as a prop for the book he was reading.
Her book, she realized, her mouth dropping open at his temerity. But it was the man himself who made her speechless. It was shocking how just being in the same room with him seemed to draw all the air from her lungs.
Then he looked up and locked gazes with her, and the flutter in her stomach suddenly became a riot.
Lily pressed a hand to her midriff, yet her defensive gesture did nothing to calm her smoldering awareness of him. Not when Claybourne was looking at her in that disconcerting way.
The gleam in his hazel eyes held a mix of triumph, sensuality, lazy amusement, and more—the promise of retribution.
“Come in, angel,” he said in his low, rich voice. “We have a great deal to discuss, wouldn’t you say?”
If he’d wondered how he would feel at seeing Lily Loring again, Heath had his answer now: Sensation shot through him, making his stomach clench and his loins tighten.
She felt the same spark of fire between them, he knew, watching her lustrous eyes widen and turn wary. It gave him a primal male satisfaction.
Marveling at the undeniable physical impact Lily had on him, he let the heat of his gaze travel slowly downward to her lush mouth. He couldn’t forget the taste of those dusky-rose lips. Couldn’t forget those amazing dark eyes, that rich chestnut color of her hair.
Yet in person she was even more vibrant than in his memories. And his visceral response to her was even more intense.
It wasn’t mere lust, however. Something about her made his heart race. He hadn’t imagined it, he knew that now.
Heath smiled inwardly at himself. The question of whether the spark would still be there between them had made the last four weeks seem interminable. His life had been utterly flat since meeting Lilian Loring. Certainly there hadn’t been a single woman in the interim who’d captured his interest.
He hadn’t expected to run his quarry to earth in a lodging house for lightskirts, though. He hadn’t expected Lily to run from him, either. Or to put him to the trouble of chasing her. He’d never been compelled to exert himself to pursue any woman.
Admittedly he’d been piqued by her flight, yet exhilarated by the thrill of the chase. Which made his triumph at finally catching her all the more sweet, despite his reservations at finding her living in a residence owned by Fanny Irwin, with a pair of infamous highflyers and a score of other straw damsels.
“Do come in, angel,” Heath urged. “And shut the door, unless you wish to broadcast my presence in your bedchamber.”
That seemed to snap Lily out of her daze, for her beautiful eyes narrowed. “Your presence in my bedchamber is extremely ill-advised, my lord. You should not be here, you know very well.”
“I wanted a place to be private with you.”
“There are two parlors and a drawing room in the house. Any of those would be far more suitable for a gentleman caller.”
“But not suitable for my purpose.”
Her eyes turned wary again. “Just what is your purpose, Lord Claybourne?”
“I cannot tell you as long as you remain loitering out there in the corridor.”
Lily obliged him, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her, but she obviously wasn’t happy about it, for her hands went to her hips. “Now will you pray explain the reason for your delightful visit?”
Heath grinned at her acerbic tone. “Yes, if you will explain what the devil you are doing in a scandalous pleasure house.”
She stiffened. “It is not a pleasure house precisely. The boarders don’t entertain their patrons here.”
Heath arched a skeptical brow. “You are saying they don’t hold assignations with their lovers here?”
“Well…not frequently, at any event. The proprietresses frown upon it.”
“And that should assuage my concerns?”
Her lips pressed together. “Assuaging your concerns is hardly my responsibility, my lord. But if you must know, I am helping Fanny Irwin and her friends repay a rather large gambling debt.”
“So I understand. I’ve learned a great deal about you over the past three days since I discovered your location. You have obviously been hard at work.”
Her eyes widened. “You have been watching me?”
“In part. When I called yesterday, you were occupied in the drawing room, surrounded by a gaggle of beauties practicing the waltz. At least your friend Eddowes was willing to satisfy a measure of my curiosity.”
“Basil told you about our endeavor?” She looked taken aback. “I cannot believe he betrayed my confidence! Or that you managed to persuade him to.”
Heath smiled at her vexation. “You proved so elusive, I was forced to become more resourceful. Eddowes has your best interests at heart, you know.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I have your best interests at heart also. Actually, I think he was relieved to share his apprehensions with me. He doesn’t quite approve of you being here.” Heath’s gaze narrowed on her. “Marcus would not approve either if he knew, I’ll wager.”
“I do not need Marcus’s consent to be here,” Lily replied stiffly. “He is no longer my guardian.”
“But he is head of your family now. And Arden will soon be joining it as well. You know he and your sister Roslyn are betrothed?”
“I know,” Lily said, her tone gloomy.
“So don’t you think it would be detrimental to your sisters if your presence here became known?”
“I don’t intend for it to become known. And if Basil Eddowes told you about our academy, then you must realize it is for a worthy cause. We are helping some unfortunate young women improve their speech and social graces so they can better their lives. It is immensely satisfying, seeing their progress day by day. And next week we plan to hold a soiree so they may meet a higher class of clientele. Hopefully they will be able to improve the deplorable circumstances under which they must earn their livelihood.”
Her passion for her cause was obvious, Heath reflected, watching Lily’s expressive face. Although it didn’t surprise him, he wondered how many ladies of her class would become involved in helping prostitutes raise their standard of living, much less endure these rather spartan conditions for weeks on end. He glanced around the small chamber, which was bare except for a narrow bed and side table, a washstand and bureau, and a chair. Very unlike her bedchamber at Danvers Hall, he would imagine.
“Your compassion is highly admirable,” Heath said mildly.
She regarded him with suspicion. “Are you roasting me, Lord Claybourne?”
“Not in the least. I am quite sincere in my admiration. And I understand why you began teaching here, but not why you came to be here in the first place.”
That made her smile. “Why, I was avoiding you, of course. You made it clear that you wouldn’t give up your absurd notion of courting me.”
“I presumed as much.”
Her look grew puzzled. “I confess I am astounded by your persistence in the face of my obvious reluctance to entertain your suit. Did you really go to Hampshire to look for me?”
His mouth twisted when he thought of his futile journey a fortnight ago. “I did. Imagine my surprise when I learned that you had not set foot there in four years. You merely put out that tale to misdirect Lady Freemantle and therefore me.”
“It seems I was wise,” Lily said wryly, “since you pursued me there. And here as well. How did you find me, if I may ask?”
“Your sister Arabella. When she and Marcus returned home from their wedding trip the other day, she accidently let slip that you were in London with Fanny. Once I had a general location, it was an easy matter to follow Fanny here.”
Sitting up, Heath swung his legs over the side of the bed. “You led me on a merry chase, sweeting,” he chided lightly. “I am not accustomed to women running from me.”
“I imagine not,” Lily replied, her tone dry.
“Did I frighten you that badly?”
She frowned a little, as if giving serious thought to the question. “Unsettled is a better word. I didn’t like the feeling in the least.”
“That is regrettable, because I am in no way giving up.”
Lily stared at him a moment before her expression grew frustrated. “It makes no sense, Lord Claybourne. Why would you want to court me?”
“I beg to differ, love—it makes perfect sense. I will have to wed someday, and I think you might make a good match for me. But I need to ascertain if we have any chance for a future together. I already know I am powerfully attracted to you. And that you are just as attracted to me. Don’t bother denying it.”
Her mouth opened to
protest but shut almost as quickly. “Perhaps so, but that doesn’t mean I want to marry you. Or that you want to marry me. We barely know each other.”
“I intend to remedy that right now.”
“Your lordship!” she exclaimed as he rose from the bed.
“Don’t be alarmed. I only want to conduct an experiment.”
Holding her gaze, Heath crossed the small room toward her. Immediately Lily tried to back away, but there was nowhere for her to run. Cautious, wary, she stood there looking up at him, her hands raised defensively in front of her.
Lifting his own hand, Heath let his thumb glide along her lush lower lip before he bent his head down to her.
“Lord Claybourne…” she said breathlessly.
“Hush, let me show you.”
She inhaled sharply but remained frozen as Heath kissed her. Her lips felt soft and ripe under his…and oh so arousing. A jolt of pure desire sizzled through him.
No, he wasn’t mistaken about Lily, he thought with a feeling of triumph and pleasure as he savored her. He felt that fire in her again, searing him. He felt the hunger in her. It was unconscious, instinctive, but there all the same, arousing the same intense heat that had ignited between them their first time together in the loft.
That fire and his own reciprocal response settled the issue for Heath. He’d never met a women who stirred his passion the way Lily did, certainly not a young lady who possessed the qualifications to become his marchioness. Ergo, he wouldn’t let Lily go. Not until he proved to himself that she wasn’t the right bride for him.
“There,” he said softly when he at last raised his head. “I wanted to see if my attraction to you was merely a passing fancy, and I now know it wasn’t. You felt it, too, don’t deny it.”
She stared back at him, looking dazed, and wet her lips before finally finding her voice. “I felt something, but it was not at all pleasant.”
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