Victoria stared at her aunt in outraged astonishment. “You think I have been leading the earl on? Allowing him to believe an offer of marriage might someday be welcome?”
“Not for a moment do I think you have done such a thing deliberately,” Cleo said hastily. “But lately, my dear, I have begun to wonder if Stonevale might interpret some of your interest in him as a signal that you might be willing to entertain an offer. He could hardly be blamed if he had.”
Victoria bristled. “And what about your interest in him? How is he supposed to interpret all your various invitations, Aunt Cleo?”
“It is not at all the same thing, dear. If he is misinterpreting my invitations, it is only because you always choose to attend the same lectures and demonstrations he chooses to attend,” she explained evenly.
“There is hardly anything to remark upon in that. I have always attended the most interesting of the lectures and talks given by your friends.”
“I cannot help but note, dear, that until recently you rarely attended the talks on crop rotation, orchard management, and viticulture,” Cleo pointed out dryly. “Your interests have always focused more on animals, electricity, and exotic plants.”
Victoria felt her face growing very warm. “I assure you, Aunt Cleo, Stonevale is very well aware of my opinions on marriage. I am certain he would not misinterpret our friendship.”
“What about you, Vicky?” Cleo came closer and smiled down at her niece. “Is there any possibility you may not be quite so certain of your own feelings on the subject of marriage as you once were?”
“Believe me, my opinions on marriage have not changed in the least,” Victoria said with absolute conviction.
“Forgive me for asking, my dear, but is it possible that you are toying with the notion of another sort of liaison with Stonevale?”
Victoria’s eyes collided with her aunt’s. “You think I am contemplating a … an affair with Lucas?”
Cleo held her niece’s gaze and spoke very firmly. “I am not blind, Vicky. Nor am I lacking in intelligence. Furthermore, I am a woman who has been out in the world for a good many years. I have seen the way you look at Stonevale when you don’t think he is aware of your regard. Add to that his obvious interest in you and the fact that you are a normal, healthy young female who does not wish the chains of marriage, and I fear we must conclude you are treading on treacherous ground. I would be extremely remiss in my duty as your aunt if I did not warn you.”
Victoria’s hand clenched into a small fist in her lap. She stared blankly at the half-finished flower in front of her. “I appreciate your concern, Aunt Cleo.”
“No, you don’t, you resent it, and I cannot entirely blame you for that. But we must face facts and it is not only your own reputation you must consider here. Stonevale’s is in jeopardy as well,” Cleo said.
Victoria’s head snapped up. “Stonevale’s reputation?”
“You know very well, my dear, that a man of his position has an obligation to his name and title. Someday he must marry a socially acceptable woman from a good family. He cannot afford to be known as a seducer of respectable, innocent young females. Such a reputation would immediately ruin his chances for a proper marriage and cast him out of Society. Nor would he wish for such a nasty reputation. He is a decent man, Vicky.”
“It is all so very unfair.”
“What is unfair? That your status as a young, unmarried woman of good breeding makes it completely impossible for you to even consider a romantic liaison with Stonevale? Yes, it is most unfair. But Society is very strict about such matters and you must heed most of the unwritten laws if you wish to survive in our world. You flout enough of the rules as it is. Be patient. And as you grow older you will be able to get away with disregarding more and more of them.”
“I am four and twenty. Quite on the shelf and you know it, Aunt Cleo.”
Cleo smiled and shook her head. “You know as well as I do that is not completely true. Society still views you as eligible and the size of your inheritance guarantees that you will remain so for a few more years. You must be careful.”
“If I were widowed like Isabel Rycott, I would be free,” Victoria muttered tightly.
Cleo grinned, breaking the tension. “Are you by any chance contemplating marriage to the earl and then doing him in so that you can gain the freedom Isabel Rycott enjoys?”
Victoria’s answering grin was reluctant. “Stonevale asked me very particularly not to consider that course of action.”
Cleo stared at her in astonishment and then burst into a gale of delighted laughter. “I am pleased to learn that Stonevale is every bit as quick and intelligent as I had thought. Obviously the two of you have arrived at some sort of mutual understanding. You do not need my advice, after all, Vicky. Please forgive my intrusion into your affairs.”
Victoria relaxed slightly. “I appreciate your concern, truly I do. And I will treat what you have said with the utmost consideration.”
“Do that. Society will tolerate a great deal but there are limits, as we both know, especially for females. I should hate to see you ruined socially at such an early age, my dear. You take far too much pleasure in your friends to risk losing them,” Cleo warned gently.
“That is certainly true enough.” A small jolt of alarm went through Victoria. She would be heartbroken if she thought she could never entertain Annabella or some of her other friends again.
Cleo nodded in satisfaction. “Precisely, my dear. Now, if you will recall, we are engaged to talk to our man of affairs this morning. Something to do with that ship we invested in last year. Apparently it has returned safely with a lovely cargo from China. We are several thousand pounds richer as of this morning. Isn’t that nice?”
Victoria was immediately distracted. She loved the more exciting sort of business ventures such as investing in shipping. A bit of risk always added an element of interest to the deal.
“Marvelous!” Victoria exclaimed. “We must thank Mr. Beckford for recommending that particular ship to us. Oh, Aunt Cleo, wait, there is something I wanted to ask you about.” Victoria reached under her chair and picked up the monogrammed silk scarf she had found on the conservatory door the previous night. “Do you recognize this?”
Cleo examined the monogram with a slight frown and handed it back to her niece. “No. It’s obviously not one of mine. Wherever did you find it?”
“In the garden. I asked the servants if one of them knew anything about it and they all said they did not recognize it. Perhaps it belongs to one of the members of your natural history society?” Victoria said, running her finger over the elegantly woven “W.”
“Hmmm. Perhaps. It is a man’s scarf. Let me think. Who do we know who has a name beginning with ‘W’? There’s Wibberly and Wilkins for starters. I must remember to ask both of them the next time I see them if either lost this. Is that all, Vicky?”
“Yes, Aunt Cleo. That is all I wanted to ask. Let’s go talk to Mr. Beckford about our latest business success. Perhaps he will have something else to recommend.”
7
Victoria hated to admit it but the notion of going to a brothel had been a serious mistake. She clutched her glass of champagne and sat tensely in the shadows, partially concealed by a garishly gilded screen. There were several such discreetly shadowed areas around this room and the adjoining one. All the lamps had been turned very low. Drunken giggles and other sounds of a very unsettling nature emanated from behind most of the screens. Victoria shuddered to think of what was going on upstairs.
It was very late, well after three in the morning. Lucas had dictated the time of their arrival. He had said he wanted to take no chance of running into anyone who might be sober enough to recognize Victoria. He had also specified this particular house because it catered to those who favored some modicum of privacy. Hence the screens and subdued lighting.
Everyone around her except Lucas appeared to be staggeringly drunk. Some men, snoring heavily, lay sprawled on pink velvet
sofas. The room was too loud, too hot, and choked with smoke from rich cigars. There was another sort of smoke coming from two or three odd pipes scattered here and there around the pink and gold chamber.
Victoria was beginning to feel a little sick. A moment earlier she had watched Lucas casually wave off two young women whose gowns were cut so low as to reveal the tops of their rouged nipples.
“We just came to observe the activities tonight,” he’d explained smoothly when one of the women had protested being sent away.
“But it’s ever so much more fun to join in the play,” the other cooed. Her eyes had moved over Lucas in a glance that made Victoria want to dump the contents of a chamber pot on her head.
“What about the young gennelman?” the first woman asked with a beckoning smile aimed at Victoria. “Wouldn’t you like to come upstairs with me? My, you’re a pretty boy. I have a lovely-looking glass on the wall o’ my room. You can watch everything in it. And you should see my collection of rods and whips. Every bit as fine as the ones they use on young lordlings in school.”
Victoria had shaken her head quickly and edged a bit deeper into the shadows. Lucas had shot her a sardonic glance and sipped his champagne, offering little help. She could almost hear him saying “I told you so.”
In addition to acknowledging that the brothel idea was a bad one, she was also fast arriving at the conclusion that men’s clothing was not always very comfortable. Her flawlessly tied cravat was much too high and much too tight around her throat tonight, for example. The top folds were halfway up her ears and covered her chin. She was practically drowning in the thing and it was all Lucas’s fault. He had retied it for her in the carriage because he’d claimed he wanted her features better concealed.
He had also insisted she keep her hat on and pulled down low over her eyes until she’d found a secluded spot to sit. As a further precaution, Lucas had deliberately chosen a house that was not patronized by the males of the ton. He had wanted to take as few risks as possible.
Her stomach grew more queasy. She had to get out of here. She did not think she could take much more of the appalling display.
She was about to lean forward and inform Lucas that she was bored and quite ready to leave when a cheer went up at the far end of the shadowed, crowded chamber. Then a sudden hush fell over the throng of drunken men and provocatively dressed women.
The middle-aged mistress of the brothel, dressed in a billowing, low-cut gown, walked into the center of the garishly decorated room. The bawd’s face was a mask of white face powder and rouge in the style that had been popular several years earlier. Her dress was made of expensive pink velvet that matched the chairs, but it lacked the elegance of simplicity which was the hallmark of fashion in polite circles. The gown was as cheap looking and overblown as the woman herself.
“Gather ‘round, all you fine gentlemen who are so anxious to prove your mettle this evening. The house invites you to inspect the lovely bit of goods we have on offer tonight. Guaranteed as clean and virgin as the day she was brought into this world. Fresh from the country and not yet thirteen years of age, I present our newest recruit to our noble profession, little Miss Molly.”
Victoria stared past the edge of the screen in horror as a dazed-looking young girl dressed in a thin white shift was pushed into the center of the room. Molly gazed around at the leering men and laughing women and hugged herself tightly. The laughter increased.
Molly’s frightened gaze moved from one face to another until her eyes somehow collided with Victoria’s. The girl did not look away. Victoria clutched the arm of the chair as the sick feeling in her stomach grew more intense.
“Now, then, let us begin the bidding. Sweet young things such as our Molly do not come cheap,” the madam said.
“I think it’s time we left,” Lucas muttered as voices rose loudly in the room. He flicked one last, disgusted glance at the brothel owner and started to get to his feet.
“No.” Victoria shook her head, unable to look away from the terrified Molly. “No, Lucas, we cannot leave. Not yet.”
“Damn it, Vicky, you don’t want to see this.”
“They are bidding on her, Lucas. As if she were a cow or a horse.”
“And the winner will take her upstairs and introduce her to her new profession,” Lucas concluded roughly. “Perhaps he won’t even bother with privacy. Perhaps he will do the business right here in front of an audience. Surely you do not wish to witness such a thing.”
“Of course not. Lucas, we must save her.”
Lucas stared at her in amazement as he sank slowly back into his chair. “Save her? How do you propose we do that? It is a common enough occurrence here in town. The young women from the country step off the hay wagons straight into the arms of ruthless old abbesses such as this one. The girls are doomed and there is nothing that can be done.”
“Well, there is certainly something that can be done about this one,” Victoria stated. “I shall buy her.”
Lucas sucked in his breath. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Vicky.”
But Victoria was already watching the bidding frenzy. She had the advantage of knowing she was undoubtedly wealthier than anyone else in the room and she intended to use that fact.
“Thirty pounds,” a man on the other side of the room shouted.
The brothel mistress regarded him with acute scorn. “For a certified virgin, sir? Come now, you cannot expect me to listen to such a ridiculous offer. Let us hear from some more noble sports.”
“Who’s to say she’s still virgin?” hooted another. “I’ll risk fifty pounds and no more.”
“Interestin’,” the bawd approved, “but not nearly good enough. Come now, I expected better from this crowd. You spend more on a horse.”
“You can ride a horse longer than you can a virgin,” someone called out, snickering.
“Nonsense. Our Molly will give you a fine ride, won’t you, Molly, dear?” The madam stroked Molly’s blond hair in a mockingly affectionate gesture. The girl shuddered.
“Not pretty enough to go for more than eighty pounds. And I’ll want my money back if you’ve lied about her condition.”
Molly started to weep and the laughter in the room grew even more raucous. Victoria looked straight at the girl, willing her to stay strong as she bided her time.
The bidding crept higher but not at a very great rate after the initial rush. The miserliness of the bids verified what Victoria had already concluded. Not everyone in the room was convinced that poor Molly was worth a huge sum nor were there any men of great wealth here tonight. Men of vast wealth preferred to keep fashionable mistresses and only ventured into brothels such as this one for casual entertainment.
Victoria waited a few more minutes until the bidding stopped at ninety pounds. Then she casually raised her hand from behind the screen. “Three hundred pounds.”
Lucas groaned.
The middle-aged woman turned a beaming countenance toward the shadowed screen. “Why, sir, you have excellent taste, whoever you be. Excellent, indeed. I do believe little Molly is yours to do with as you please this evening.” She patted the young girl’s hand. “What a lucky girl you are, my dear. Such a nice, discreet gentleman he is. Run along now and mind you don’t make a fuss or it’ll be the worse for you.”
“You do not have three hundred pounds on you,” Lucas reminded Victoria between set teeth. “You can hardly give the old bawd your personal marker, can you? She’ll realize who you are.”
Victoria blinked. “You are quite right. Very well, you will have to pay the woman. Say it is on my behalf as I am rather shy. Hurry, Lucas.”
“Bloody, hell,” Lucas murmured as he got slowly to his feet. “Don’t think I won’t collect from you for this.”
“I assure you, I’m good for the blunt,” Victoria said sharply.
He stood up and strode toward the bawd, ignoring the shouts and ribald comments. When he reached the center of the room, he gave Molly a small push toward th
e screen where Victoria hovered. “Go on, girl. Move.”
Molly looked up at him in terror and then responded automatically to the tone of command. She made her way through the laughing crowd to where Victoria waited.
“Hush, now, and all will be well,” Victoria murmured as she took the girl’s shaking hand and led her toward the door, cramming her hat down low over her eyes as she tugged the girl out into the hall.
Molly was too frightened to even protest. Perhaps being led out into the night appeared a better alternative to being taken up the stairs. The girl staggered a bit and Victoria realized she had undoubtedly been given several glasses of wine or perhaps an opium concoction to keep her dazed.
“Well, well, and just where d’ye think ye be goin’ with the new piece? Ye ain’t allowed t’ take the merchandise off the premises.” A very big, coarse-faced man loomed in Victoria’s path. He was supposed to be the brothel’s butler, but Victoria could see he had another job as well.
“My walking stick, if you please,” she said imperiously.
“I just told ye, ye cannot be takin’ the girl off the premises,” the man boomed.
“I’m not going to take her off the premises,” Victoria said in an utterly bored tone. She remembered what one of the prostitutes had said about rods and whips. “But I do have certain tastes I like to indulge. And I have found that my walking stick makes a very fine rod for my purposes. It has just the right heft and balance, if you take my meaning.”
Little Molly stifled a scream but the big man looked somewhat mollified. It was obvious he was accustomed to such bizarre things.
“So that’s the way of it, is it?” He leered at Molly. “Yer in for a fine time tonight, Molly, my girl.”
Victoria waited tensely, glancing back over her shoulder once more for Lucas. He was still nowhere in sight. When the butler appeared with her walking stick, she decided she had to act on her own and find a way to the door directly behind the big man.