Page 6 of In a Rake's Embrace
It had been a night of immense relief and the beginning of her new life. She had expected her father to be at home, wallowing in shame over what he had forced his daughter to endure. But instead, he had been snarling and angry. The following morning, he had left, returning to the gambling halls of London, where he would often disappear for weeks at a time.Her father had also pilfered the banknotes the duke had given her. Agatha had sobbed until her throat felt raw. Thankfully, he had not discovered the other monies she saved.
Disgust, horror, and betrayal had settled in her chest, heavier than the relief she had felt. Her father hadn’t learned his lesson. The danger was far from over. That morning, as she looked at her younger siblings, blissfully unaware of what had almost happened, Agatha realized she couldn’t allow them to remain under his control. If their father could easily offer Maggie to settle his debts, what would stop him from repeating the same?
Agatha had taken control, determined to forge a better future for herself and her siblings. The decision had been made swiftly. They had packed their few belongings—just enough to fit into a small cart and escaped. Agatha left her father a note explaining that she had taken her siblings away for their safety. She wrote only so he wouldn’t worry—though she doubted he would care enough to feel concerned.
She didn’t tell him where they were going. He didn’t deserve to know. With quiet resolve, she led her family far from the small seaside town they had known, all the way to Devonshire, where no one knew their names and no debts or danger loomed over them.
Gloria had brought her younger brother Henry to live with them out of fear for his well-being under the care of their eldest brother, a butcher. At just fourteen years old, Henry had been working grueling twelve-hour days for only a few shillings a month. Over time, Agatha came to love him as if he were her brother. His presence alone, often seen from a distance, discouraged trouble from finding them. Even their landlord seemed to believe it was Henry with whom he had the rental agreement.
But as the months passed, the struggle to survive became more difficult. She had always known it wouldn’t be easy, but the weight of that knowledge felt heavier with each passing day.
“What are you thinking about?” Gloria asked gently.
“That night in London and the duke who helped me,” Agatha said with a self-deprecating smile. “He said something to me, and I did not believe him, but it has proven true.”
When he had offered her money, her fierce pride had pushed her to ask for a job instead.
“Too beautiful,” he had snapped. “You would toss my household into disorder and have my footmen turn into competing fools.”
“I see. Perhaps a recommendation to be a governess—”
“The master of the home you work in will have you on your back within days. Unless you choose to hide your figure as best possible, disfigure your face, or find a kind widow who has no preying sons.”
“I would never consent to an affair!”
“He would not care if you were willing. You have no power or connection.”
Gloria shifted restlessly. “What did he say?”
“The duke warned me how difficult it would be to work for others,” Agatha said softly, shaking her head. “He made it seem like my beauty was acurse. He said if I worked in anyone’s household, I’d cause an uproar. I was a housekeeper for Squire Portman for just a week, and he was determined to make me his lover despite his wife being heavy with child. And look at what happened at the baker’s shop—three workers, men I gave no attention to, fought over me. It’s nonsensical. It’s as if they’ve decided I have no say in the matter. Mrs. Bramley ordered several gowns from you, but when I delivered them, she was so furious that her husband ogled me that she refused to pay. It is mostabsurd,but it is very much real.”
Gloria frowned deeply. “Why are you thinking about this now?”
Agatha hesitated, her gaze drifting down to the ledger, showing the harsh reality of their future. “The duke ... said my beauty is power if I knew how to use it.”
Her stepmother inhaled sharply, her eyes widening in surprise. “What?”
“Beauty is a power. A man would willingly pay two hundred pounds to spend a night with you,” the duke had told her. “Entice and allure. Craft a reputation as a woman who is both unattainable and unavailable. Tease and tempt, and let men be willing to pay just to behold your beauty ... to hear you play the pianoforte. Declare to the world that you are a virgin, and they will clamor at your door for the mere chance to be the one to seduce you.”
Taking a steadying breath, Agatha met Gloria’s gaze. “I’m going to London.”
Her stepmother stiffened, her lips parting as if to protest, but no objection came.
“Wait for my letters,” Agatha continued, her voice firm yet gentle. “I will send them frequently, along with money.”
“What will you do?”
“I should not tell you about it,” she said gently. “I will not do anything dangerous.”
“How can you be so certain you’ll make any money? This is too risky and reckless—”
“Am I beautiful, Gloria?”
Gloria blinked, then nodded slowly. “I have never seen anyone to equal you.”
Agatha swallowed tightly. “Do ... do men covet beautiful things?”
“Yes,” Gloria whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
