Page 10 of How to Lose a Dowry in Three Bucks
Sophia struggled to make sense of what he was saying. “You mean that…you’re not the only man with a photograph of her? Like that?”
“You’re asking if men around the world are beating their cocks to her pornographic photograph? As we speak?”
Sophia hesitated, then nodded yes.
“I think you know the answer,” he said, grinning wolfishly.
It boggled the mind. “How do you know her name? You sound very familiar with her.”
“Martine? Why, she has a live show in Paris,” he said, settling back with a broad smile on his face. “That photograph you spotted while spying on me was taken as I watched her from the front row.”
“Is she unmarriageable, do you think?” Sophia asked hopefully.
“I should think not, not if her husband Bertrand has anything to say about it.”
Sophia deflated. Even dancing girls in Paris who posed with their skirts up would still be eligible for marriage. She was truly stuck. Creeping dread rolled over her scalp and down her shoulders.
“To be honest,” he continued, “anything short of photographs in the act would likely not contribute to your argument that marriage is impossible for you. It might be easier to find some decent bloke to marry.”
“Some decent bloke who will own everything I bring to the marriage.”
“If the new Married Women’s Property Act ever passes, it wouldn’t mean such a loss. Say, I’m in Lords; I’ll vote on your side if it comes up for a vote.”
“That’s a lot of ifs,” she said sadly.
“It is,” he said, settling next to her companionably.
They stared at the half-empty tea tray. Peverel slapped his thigh. “Well, looks like you’ll need to have yourself photographed while being ravished by a group of men. Thankfully, I know some decent chaps.”
Sophia felt her eyes grow wide. She directed them at Matthew, uncertain that she’d heard him correctly.
He met her gaze and burst out laughing. “You should see your face!” he said, planting a quick kiss on her lips before she could think to dart from him. It was the sort of peck one planted on a baby or toy poodle, but all the same, it was her first.
“My goodness, for a moment, I thought you were serious!” she exclaimed, breaking into peals of laughter herself.
“Absolutely not. It would make me no better than one of those fortune hunters or a, well, a pimp,” he said, still chuckling. “That’s hardly suitable for a young lady of excellent reputation.”
“The problem is that I need to divest myself of that pristine reputation.”
“I couldn’t hand you off to that group of libertines. It would be far too much for a — you’re a virgin, correct?”
Sophia bristled. “I may be, but I hope to divest myself of my reputationandmy maidenhead as soon as possible!“ she exclaimed.
“I don’t think—”
“No, I insist you tell me more about this group! They might be the key to my freedom and safety!”
“Well, they’re decent chaps willing to roger you senseless. Uncertain of the photography mechanics, but that seems less difficult to arrange than a small orchestra, so I’m sure it can be done.”
Sophia felt her mouth open, but she couldn’t move the muscles needed to close it. Was he really so casual about suggesting…that?
“There, now,” he whispered, drawing closer to her so his enormous body nearly covered her.
Sophia placed her hand on Peverel’s waistcoat. She watched her fingertips trace across the fabric and then grasped it in her fist.
His mouth was right over her ear, and she could feel the heat of his breath. “You needn’t,” he said.
“What if I want to?”
