Page 27 of What a Courtesan Wants
Her eyebrows shot up as she eyed his reflection in the mirror. “Sixteen years? But you hardly look older than thirty! You had to have been nothing more than a boy yourself when you became her guardian.”
“I am eight years past thirty, giving me the distinction of being the eldest of the Gentlemen Courtesans, though Ben and Dominick aren’t very far behind me. Hugh and David were the youngest until we took on new blood. As for Elizabeth … I was two-and-twenty, and fresh off my grand tour when both Ellen and her husband fell ill with typhus. Neither recovered, leaving my niece an orphan with no one to care for her but me.”
“What a heavy responsibility for such a young man to undertake. But how well you’ve done, Aubrey. I only spoke with Elizabeth for a moment, but she seems a lovely girl.”
He gave a slight shrug, seeming uncertain of how to respond to her praise. “I did only what I had to, the same as my father. Rowland allowed Elizabeth and myself to live in the rooms over the Cheapside warehouse free of charge while I worked as his assistant, and took it upon himself to hire a woman to look after us. Mrs. Baines was Lizzy’s nanny, and she also cooked our meals and kept our rooms tidy. Rowland paid her until I became a full partner and could afford to take it on myself and move us into a small home of our own. Over the years, I have had one goal in mind—and that is to see Elizabeth settled into a good and comfortable life. I suppose my father’s inclination has imprinted itself onto me, and I find myself dreaming of her being elevated above our present place in society. She is an accomplished young lady. I hired a tutor to educate her, and an instructor to teach her the pianoforte. She speaks French, knows how to dance, and of course you know of her skill with a sewing needle. It has always been my hope that she could make an advantageous marriage. She is the foremost reason I became a courtesan … so that I could keep the business afloat while saving funds for a dowry and trousseau. Being friends with men like Benedict has placed me in a unique position. I suffer no delusions that she could ever have anything like a London Season or a debutante’s coming-out, but she could be introduced to men of means, widening her prospects for marriage.”
Admiration for him swelled within Lucinda as she rose from the vanity, her hair now neatly braided and tied back with a ribbon. He’d seemed to command respect from the moment she had met him; something in his presence and carriage all but demanded it. But understanding where he’d come from, the things he’d accomplished, and realizing that the love of his niece was what had placed him as her courtesan for a time, made her respect him all the more.
“Your ambitions are commendable,” she said, joining him on the bed. She sat facing him, legs pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around her knees. “And I think Elizabeth will go far with someone like you championing her.”
Aubrey leaned back to make himself more comfortable, his long body stretched across the bed, propped up on one elbow. “She has every advantage Ellen never did. We were very much aware from the beginning that this city, this country, had not been built for us. But, Father taught us that in order to survive, we had tomakeit ours. And we did … so that Elizabeth would not have to.”
Lucinda fell silent for a moment, thinking of how she’d once had such aspirations for her own children. Babes who had never even drawn their first breaths. A heavy blanket of melancholy fell over her, and she lowered her gaze to the counterpane.
Noticing this, Aubrey reached across the space between them, stroking his fingers down her arm. “What are you thinking?”
She glanced up to find an earnestness in his gaze, as well as a deep curiosity. She supposed it was only natural after she’d expressed her own interest in his background. And after all the things he’d just told her, how could she refuse to do the same?
With a sigh, she arranged herself so that she lay facing him, resting her chin in one hand. “I was only thinking that I know a bit about what you just said … wanting more for those who will follow behind you. I know what it is to be suddenly thrust into a world you were not born into and striving to belong. Though, I cannot pretend to come from such inspiring origins as you.”
He gave her a smile, and it sent warmth suffusing through her from the center of her chest, heady and tingling.
“Your life—your struggle and triumphs—are all your own. I would never trivialize them by comparing them to mine. Go on.”
Just then, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world, trading secrets and private thoughts. It had been so long since anyone had offered her a listening ear, and just now she realized how much she had needed one. Her words came spilling out without a second thought.
“My father was a gentleman farmer, and his father before him. We lived a quiet life, one that I’ll admit I found quite boring. I’d always wanted to live in London and experience the bustle of such a city. I imagined it would be such a fine place, with glittering white buildings and ladies dressed in the latest French fashions. I was told to disabuse myself of any notions of such grandeur for my future. It had already been decided—unofficially, of course—that when I came of age a marriage would take place between myself and a cousin who lived on the lands neighboring ours. It was thought that such a union would be good for the sake of both farms, combining our modest wealth and lands with theirs. That had been my parents’ plan from the moment I had been born, and as I drew closer to my eighteenth birthday, I began to lament my future. Marriage to my cousin wasn’t what I wanted and living out my years in Essex until death did not suit my ideals.”
“How did you come to be married to an earl?”
A smile curved Lucinda’s lips. The memory of the day she’d met Magnus came back to her as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
“It was quite by chance, actually. The time was fast approaching for my cousin to make his offer of marriage. Honestly, I don’t think he was in anymore of a hurry to wed me than I was to marry him. And I am grateful to him for being so slow in coming to me, for I might never have met Magnus. We all knew he was coming to the county, of course. He was set to visit a relation of his first countess, who had died some years past. In our little corner of the world, we were hardly ever privileged to have such exalted persons in our midst, so the arrival of an earl and his children came as quite an exciting piece of news. A ball was planned, and all the friends and acquaintances of the earl’s family by marriage were invited.
“It was the most thrilling thing to ever happen to me. I hadn’t been to many parties, and to know that an earl would be there … Well, it was the evening before the ball when I first saw him, only I did not know who he was at the time. I was taking a walk through the fields bordering the farmlands and had gotten quite lost in my daydreams about the upcoming ball. Oh, I was such a ninny—twirling and grinning in that field and practicing the steps of the waltz. Papa didn’t want me to have anything to do with it, but Mama argued that we were not in London and it wouldn’t hurt to allow it for one night. I imagined myself quite grown up, old enough to dance a waltz, and Mama would even allow me to have two glasses of champagne where before I’d only ever been allowed one. Well, imagine my surprise when a man old enough to be my father comes upon me on horseback, and actually stops to speak with me!”
Aubrey creased his brow. “I knew there had been a difference in your years, but was he really so old?”
Lucinda couldn’t wipe the wide grin from her face. These memories of Magnus were too good to be tinged by grief. “There was nothing old about him. Only … well, hehadbegun to grow a bit gray at his temples. But in a very dignified way. He was a tall man, as tall as you, I think. Very athletic, he sat his horse like he’d been born to it. In truth, I felt an instant attraction to the man, but could hardly believe it was so. Here I was, just barely out in society and instead of dreaming over who I thought must be a very young earl—for in my mind he was like some storybook prince, and of course he wouldn’t be much older than me—I was experiencing very inappropriate urges I didn’t understand toward a man who had to have been twice my age. Nevertheless, he stopped to greet me, and I returned the nicety, expecting him to be on his way. Only, he dismounted from his horse and approached. Well, I was very cross at having my daydreaming interrupted, and wasn’t shy about letting him know it. He asked my name and I told him it was none of his affair. Who was he to accost me on my family’s land when I was alone? It was quite indecent of him.”
“More indecent than youbeingout there alone, of course,” Aubrey teased.
“Of course,” she replied, tongue in cheek. “He told me that his name was Magnus, but nothing beyond that, and said he’d been cutting through our lands on his way to the home of an acquaintance. He apologized for the presumption but counted it fortuitous, for it had enabled him to stumble upon me.”
“Shameless flirt,” Aubrey muttered.
“Precisely. I thought him a lecher and told him so. I also informed him that he was far too old to go about trying to seduce young women with words—and hadn’t he a wife and children somewhere he ought to give his attentions to?”
“What a little spitfire you were.”
Lucinda giggled. “I was a haughty little shit, but Magnus seemed to find me delightful. He merely laughed and told me that he had been a widower for some time. His children were all adults now, so he had nothing to occupy his time save for riding through fields and flirting with young maidens. I nearly slapped his face for it, but deep down found myself succumbing to his charm. Magnus was a magnetic sort of man, you see. I never met a person who didn’t find themselves caught in his thrall the moment they met him. He drew people to him with such effortlessness.”
“He sounds like quite a man.”
This gave Lucinda pause, as she realized she lay abed with another man while waxing poetic about her late husband. Her face grew hot and she bit her lip, stifling her runaway tongue.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t suppose you want to hear about all that. It has no bearing on what I was getting at, I only—”
