Page 10 of Portrait of a Lady
She turned a wide-eyed gaze to him, shocked by what she’d allowed to fall out of her mouth. The sherry had obviously gone straight to her head.
Ben chuckled. “Women who require patience and gentleness while they are initiated into intimacy. Do not be so hard on yourself, Evelyn. Of all the women who come here seeking the services of the Gentleman Courtesans, most are inexperienced and curious enough to take matters into their own hands. I can assure you that Hugh is everything you require and is in search of a new arrangement.”
Hugh. Knowing the man’s name brought her a sense of calm, along with relief that Ben was not the man who would become her paramour. Nice to look upon he might be, but the man was downright terrifying. It was also good to know that this Hugh would not expect her to come to him with knowledge of what to do once he took her to bed. The little she did know could fit inside a thimble, so it was a good thing he knew what he was about.
“He requires his keeper to cover the rent for his townhouse in Mayfair on top of a monthly stipend,” Ben continued, opening a drawer in his desk and drawing out a document. “I hope that won’t be too much trouble.”
Thinking of the inheritance she’d been left—enough for her to live on, with more leftover to bequeath upon any children she might have, which was unlikely—she knew the cost would be nothing more than a pittance. A spinster she might be, but because of the forethought of her grandfather she was now an exceedingly wealthy one. Her father had been terrible with managing his own funds, so his sire had seen to the welfare of his grandchildren on his own—bequeathing her and her sisters with dowries set to turn into inheritances should they fail to marry before reaching their majority. Of three granddaughters, Evelyn was the only one to fail at securing a marriage, and so her dowry was now hers outright.
When deciding how to spend the money, she could think of no greater use than discovering what passion and romance might feel like. She’d experienced precious little of either during her disastrous coming out and the following Seasons and had thought she’d never find out. Now, she stood poised to not only discover the secrets of desire between men and women, she could afford to enjoy it for as long as she wished, providing Hugh was amenable to such an arrangement.
“Not at all,” she assured him.
Ben pushed the document across the table toward her, then opened an inkwell and offered her a pen. “Then, all there is left to do is read and sign this agreement which stipulates the amount of Hugh’s allowance, along with the cost of his rent and small household staff, as well as your promise to keep our meeting and your arrangement quiet. I don’t think I have to tell you how important it is that no one know the true nature of your connection to Hugh or my agency.”
No, he did not. She’d witnessed the downfall of many a London chit, the vicious cycle of gossip and backbiting amongst thetonruining even the most popular of ladies. If rumors of her involvement in anything unseemly ever made the rounds, her family would disown her. As much a wallflower and outcast as she’d always been, it would be nothing compared to the scrutiny and scorn she would face if anyone ever found out she had hired a man to act as her courtesan.
The talk, the censure, thestaring. Nausea welled up in her throat at the thought, but she pushed it back down. She had gone so long without taking chances, remaining quiet and meek...and what had it gained her? A life so far filled with bitter disappointment and an aching sense of never being fulfilled. There was more to life, surely there must be, and she would reach out and take a bit of pleasure and an experience she would treasure for all her life. She was a woman now, one who no longer had to bow to the dictates of her parents. There was no husband to command or control her, and she felt certain there never would be.
So, she stood in a position to finally take control of her own circumstances, doing something solely for herself. It could be the first step to a new sort of life, one in which she did what she pleased and found some sort of happiness after all the disappointment she’d ever felt. She had no idea what might come next, or what her future might look like. For now, she was content with taking this leap, with allowing herself to take a taste of the forbidden.
“That will not be a problem,” she stated, accepting the pen.
Chapter 2
“This afternoon, I spotted no less than a dozen young ladies coming and going from various shops with newly-purchased capes, masks, and trimmings as mundane as feathers and as obscure as baskets of fruit. A sure sign that another Vauxhall Gardens Masquerade is upon us.”
-The London Gossip,10 March 1819
“Hugh, you’re right on time,” Benedict declared as Hugh was shown into his friend’s drawing room. “I’ve just arrived home from Madame Hershaw’s where I met with your new keeper.”
While he’d come here straight from Somerset House for this exact purpose, Hugh found he did not wish to be faced with it so soon upon arriving. His mind was already overrun with the consequences of failing to be selected for the Exhibition yet another year.
“You’ve become a terrible host as of late,” he grumbled, taking himself over to the sideboard. “You might offer a fellow a drink before launching straight into talk of business.”
Benedict loosened his cravat as he slouched on the loveseat. “Such a trial for you being paid to bed a lovely young woman.”
Hugh rolled his eyes while pouring himself a snifter of brandy. “Is she? Lovely, that is.”
He cut his eyes at Benedict while taking his first sip, noticing the gleam of amusement in his friend’s gaze.
“She isn’tmytype, but she’s a pretty bit of muslin, I suppose.”
Hugh snorted, taking a seat in the nearest armchair. “You say that about almost every woman who crosses your path.”
“Have youseenmy countess?”
He had, and like all the other Gentleman Courtesans, Hugh envied his friend. The widowed Countess of Langford was a ravishing beauty with a massive fortune. Raven black hair, bright blue eyes, and tits that could sink a battleship, she was one of London’s most sought-after eligible females. Despite being a widow who’d grown a bit long in the tooth, her beauty and her fortune still had the men of thetontripping over themselves to gain her notice. Unfortunately for them, she enjoyed her freedom and had been avoiding the matrimonial noose for years.
During every one of those years, she’d seen fit to keep Benedict as her paramour in grand style—taking over the rent on this townhouse, filling the mews with a carriage and team, turning him out in the latest fashionable clothing still fitting with Benedict’s austere style, and flaunting him all over London like a prized stallion. She did not care that all the world assumedhewas keepingher, for the two of them—as well as the other men of their agency—knew the truth. And, Hugh suspected, Benedict might have agreed to their arrangement for free, if for no other reason than the public affair served to annoy his father.
Unlike the other courtesans, who had flitted from woman to woman since the beginning of their little endeavor, Benedict had been fortunate to snare one lover and keep her. Which meant he was free and happy to spend his spare time maintaining arrangements for the rest of the gentlemen courtesans—the number of which had grown to ten since they first began. The original five men, apparently, weren’t the only ones desperate or destitute enough to agree to such arrangements.
“You make a valid point,” Hugh grumbled between sips of brandy. “Lucky bastard.”
“Celeste does keep me busy, but never too much to ensure my best courtesan does not go without a fat-pocketed lady to keep him comfortable.”
Hugh pursed his lips. “Yourbestcourtesan? Truly? Better than you?”
