Page 5 of What a Courtesan Wants
“I wanted to remain close for when you emerged,” Benedict said, sinking into an armchair with a heavy sigh of relief.
Like Aubrey, he looked exhausted from the mad scramble of the past few months, during which the Gentleman Courtesans had been forced to change tactics in order to remain in business. Now that their calling cards could no longer be used lest they lead the writer of that insipid column straight to Madame Hershaw’s dress shop, they’d had to become far more active in their approach. One to two nights a week saw him attending parties in the homes of Benedict’s acquaintances, trading heated glances with women he had no real interest in while hoping to lure one of them into an arrangement with him.
It had grown tiresome, watching the other courtesans procure new keepers while being passed from woman to woman. Some of the courtesans had developed reputations as romantic or companionable, and those had been the men to get snapped up first.
But men like him, David, and Dominick found themselves in a different pool altogether. The three of them had become known for their prowess, as well as certain talents that made them unique among the other courtesans. As such, they’d become oddities of a sort—exotic offerings the women wanted to sample so they could whisper to their friends about the experience. It proved doubly true for Aubrey, who not only carried the distinction of being a trained master but was also the only courtesan of African descent. Prospective clients were always curious about him—whether his skin would feel like that of a white man, whether his cock was really as large as rumor said, whether the literature they’d read about the insatiable debauchery attributed to negro men proved true. None of them wanted to know him or keep him.
While the other courtesans might insist such curiosity only boded well for him, they could never know how it felt—being treated like some sort of curiosity instead of a man. A thing to be used for pieces of himself as opposed to a whole person. He hadn’t thought of such things when agreeing to become a courtesan, and more fool him. It had seemed to come with the territory in the beginning, but over time he’d come to hate it. He felt nothing for these women because they felt nothing for him, but his apathy had slowly begun to transform into resentment. He put up with it for the money, but with every party, every night spent with women who took from him while giving nothing in return, Aubrey was pushed closer to the end of his tolerance for the entire affair.
“It went well enough if you must know,” Aubrey replied, taking the chair matching Benedict’s and propping his foot on a nearby stool.
Looking at it reminded him of the woman he’d just left resting across the corridor. Remembering the hours he’d spent teasing and tormenting her left him colder than it should. In truth, it had been ages since the thrill of standing over a nude, kneeling submissive or applying his hand or the crop to an upturned arse had given him the thrill it once had. The reason for his indifference wasn’t lost on him. Since becoming a courtesan he’d had little to no control over the woman doing the kneeling and submitting.
The master who had trained Aubrey had taught him several valuable lessons, not the least of which was the sort of bond that should exist between master and submissive. There had been a few lovers in his past for whom he’d felt admiration, respect, and genuine affection. He couldn’t claim to have loved any of them, but there had been enough of a connection there for him to enjoy longstanding, mutual arrangements that had nothing to do with contracts or the exchange of funds. The mercenary element of his secret profession had taken the excitement out of bedroom play for him, and with each new keeper he found himself caring less and less whether it would last.
“Well enough that you think she might want a contract?” Benedict asked, jolting him from his wandering thoughts.
Aubrey issued a rough snort and shook his head. “I cannot pretend to know. She was rather exhausted once I was finished with her. There wasn’t a chance to discuss the particulars before she started snoring into the pillows.”
“That is good to hear, actually … because I’ve just finished meeting with someone who is definitely interested in an arrangement.”
That Benedict had been working behind the scenes, even while Aubrey did what he could to cement a new contract himself, didn’t surprise him. The future viscount was the sort of man who pursued whatever he wanted with single-minded diligence. Presently, what he wanted was for the Gentleman Courtesans to go on keeping them flush in the pockets. Until he inherited his father’s title, he could lead a life of leisure, doing whatever he pleased with his time.
“Is that so? Which of them is it? I’d thought Mrs. Watson seemed the most eager, but after our night together she never turned up at Madame Hershaw’s.”
“Not her. This woman is a widow and happens to be a submissive, trained and molded by a previous master. The man was also her husband, but he has died, leaving her without anyone to see to her needs. She’s interested in an experienced dominant, so I invited her to observe you with Mrs. Boyle. I do hope you didn’t mind.”
Aubrey brushed that off with a dismissive wave. “I told you when you came to the door, it is fine. Not the first time I’ve been observed.”
He wouldn’t consider himself an exhibitionist, but he would allow others to watch him in the right situations. Giving a prospective client a glimpse of what he could do proved just such a circumstance.
“Well, good, because Lady Bowery liked what she saw enough to offer for you on the spot. She has signed a contract for six months.”
Relief washed over him at the promise of an arrangement set in stone for half a year, even as he wondered if he could force himself to feign interest in a new woman for that long.
“I suppose I must accept the terms,” he murmured, plucking at a loose thread on the arm of his chair. “I have no choice if I want to keep from delving into the warehouse’s profits to pay the rent on our new townhouse.”
“You don’thave todo anything,” Benedict chided. “If the woman doesn’t appeal to you, or you need a bit of a respite before moving on to your next keeper, I can inform Lady Bowery you’ve become unavailable. Business has been good, hasn’t it? You can afford to take some time for yourself.”
“It has been, but I’ve tried to avoid skimming off our profits until we’ve finished expanding. Besides, Elizabeth’s birthday will be here in just over a month.”
Benedict grinned, his expression softening at the mention of Aubrey’s niece. “Our Lizzy is almost eighteen. I can hardly believe it. Seems only yesterday you were leading a little girl about by the hand. Gad, seeing her now makes me feel positively ancient.”
“You?” Aubrey said with a scoff. “How do you thinkIfeel? Now that she’ll be of an age to marry and we’ve moved into a more fashionable neighborhood, I want her to have the best prospects possible. That means new clothing to make her stand out when I begin introducing her to the sons of my acquaintances, and adding as much to her dowry as I can afford to lure any prospective suitors. She can make a good marriage, but only if I have the funds to make her as attractive a candidate as possible.”
“Very well. Shall I arrange for you to meet? You ought to at least feast your eyes on her before signing the contract. I think you’ll be pleased with this one. She’s very … buxom. And not a meek woman either. Though, the widows never are.”
Thinking of Lavinia, his last keeper, who had been as slender as a reed and quiet as a mouse, Aubrey felt his interest stir the slightest bit. If nothing else, Lady Bowery would prove a pleasant change from his past few bedmates, perhaps enough to keep him from being bored to tears over the next six months.
“Arrange the meeting for whenever you see fit, and I’ll be there. Thank you, Ben.”
With that, he rose and headed for the door, relieved to be able to retire for the evening. His goal for attending the party had been achieved, and his worries were eased for the moment. Now, all he had to do was keep Lady Bowery happy for the duration of their contract, while preparing Elizabeth for her upcoming husband hunt. If all went well, next year would see him the proud uncle of a happily married young woman. Despite knowing Benedict would be disappointed, Aubrey couldn’t help also hoping it would see him able to retire from the Gentleman Courtesans altogether. He had already taken on training a new, younger courtesan who could fill the void he would leave.
Securing a good future for his niece and keeping the business he had inherited afloat had been his only aims for the last few years. Now that he’d nearly accomplished both those things, Aubrey found himself wondering what might be next for him.
One thing was for certain, he looked forward to being free from his current obligations so he could find out.
Chapter 2
