Page 7 of In a Rake's Embrace
“I’ve had a year to realize what I’ve been doing isn’t enough. We have no connections, no one to turn to. We can only rely on ourselves. I can only rely on what I have.” Agatha’s voice grew stronger, more resolved. “Fortunately, my mother spent countless hours educating me so I could read, do arithmetic and even speak French. I know there is much more I need to learn. And I must go to London. We’ll tell the girls I’m going for a respectable position in town, and everything will be fine.”
Tears glistened in Gloria’s eyes, and she reached out to clasp Agatha’s hand. “I’ll take care of everyone, Aga. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”
“I know,” Agatha said softly, squeezing her hand in return. “I know.”
Gloria never hesitated to leave their father behind. She had taken on much of the housework and cooking, filling the role their family needed. Together, they shared a silent understanding. Agatha would take this risk, not for herself but for all of them.
CHAPTER 3
Thomas Pennington, the Earl of Radbourne, stilled, the glass of brandy he had been refilling, momentarily forgotten. The liquid splashed onto the polished walnut table, and he set the decanter down with an irritated hiss. Reclining against the sofa, he regarded Madam Rebecca with curiosity and disbelief scything through him. It was as though she were some strange, unfamiliar creature.
“You want me to teach a lady the art of seduction ... without seducing her?” he repeated, his tone dry. “What nonsense is this?”
Madam Rebecca crossed her legs at the knee and smiled serenely. “I thought you were the best person to help with her needs.”
He arched a brow. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, taking a delicate sip of her champagne. “You’re a rake through and through, with a fondness for women in all their forms. But unlike most, you aren’t led solely by your cock. You can be discerning, and you have restraint. This lady will be auctioning her virginity and ... expertise in six weeks.”
Thomas chuckled, his interest mildly piqued. “A virgin with expertise? Now, that is something I’ve never heard of. Or perhaps I have. Two of your ladies boasted the same a few months ago. Wasn’t there a fight in the card rooms about who truly took Lady Hettie’s chastity?”
“I daresay, it’s little scuffles like that which convince me this auction will be brilliant—and talked about for months.” Madam Rebecca cleared her throat lightly. “Miss Woodville is a beauty, and she’s educated—but not enough to hold her own in a conversation with the fine gentlemen of theton. She’ll walk among them on the floors, and they will want her, knowing the auction is imminent. She will be the prize.”
“So, you want me to teach her the art of what? Flirtation? Seduction?”
“Yes ... without touching her,” she replied with a pointed look.
Thomas smiled, amusement rushing through him. “There will be touching. It would be impossible otherwise.”
“Must you touch her?”
“Of course, when have I ever said I was some selfless gent?”
“Yes, but you must not ravish her,” she warned.
He smiled slightly. “I am suitably bored to be intrigued. What’s in it for me?”
“Relieving your boredom, of course,” she said sweetly, her brown eyes gleaming with calculation. “Do you think I have not noticed? You visit our halls less since Lord Ambrose and His Grace Basil married. You visit the card rooms and gamble but have not taken a woman in almost three months.”
“How interesting that you keep a record of my cockstands. Have you never thought I might be finding my pleasure elsewhere?”
“No.” She waved a hand. “There is no reason to stare at me with such coldness, Radbourne. My business is knowing when Iam on the cusp of losing a most valued client. I want to keep you happy, my lord. I have already lost Basil and Ambrose. I think you will be suitably ... challenged with tutoring Miss Woodville. There will be some pleasure for you because she will need to practice some things. I trust that you would never ravish her.”
It was mildly interesting Madam Rebecca knew some of his character. “And what is in this for you?”
“Fifty percent of whatever Miss Woodville earns from the highest bidder. I’ll provide her with private quarters on the fourth floor, setting her apart from the other ladies. That she will have her boudoir on my floor will be the first signal that she is different. She’ll have a handsome apartment with a bedchamber, sitting room, and music room. Meals will be provided whenever she wants, and a burly footman will be assigned to protect her from unwanted advances. Twice a month, we host musicales or our version of it. Her debut will be a performance to whet their appetites—she’ll sing and dance. She has a lovely voice, though I was surprised to learn she doesn’t play any instrument, as many young ladies do. She suggested learning to dance to add something unique to her performance.”
“The waltz?” he asked, lifting a brow. “Never say I am to be her partner in this.”
Her mouth quirked. “That, and another—one that will shock and entice.”
“What sort of dance?” Thomas asked, skeptical. He’d never been one to believe that dancing could hold much power beyond a tiresome prelude to courtship.
“A dance that requires someone to play the flute,” she replied, her lips curling into another knowing smile.
“Of course. And you know I play the flute,” he said drily.
“Yes,” she said, her smile deepening.
