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Authors: Nicole Jordan

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She had held that adamant view since she was sixteen, Lily reflected when eventually she left her sister and went upstairs to her bedchamber to unpack her valise and then pack again for an unexpected visit to London.

She'd sworn she would never let herself become so vulnerable—to be helplessly trapped in matrimony, at the mercy of her husband's whims, unable to escape. If a woman married, she legally
belonged
to her husband; she was his property to treat as brutally as he pleased. She would
never
give any man that power over her, Lily vowed.

Nor would she ever give her heart away, only to have it cruelly crushed, the way her mother had done in her first marriage, and as Arabella had done in her first, short-lived betrothal.

Thankfully, Arabella seemed to have a genuine chance for love and happiness with Marcus now, Lily admitted to herself, remembering the gentleness in their hands when they touched each other, the tender look in their eyes when they shared loving glances. And her mother professed to have finally found happiness in her second marriage with her French lover, Henri Vachel.

As far as Lily was concerned, however, marriage was an odious word. She doubted she would ever overcome her lack of faith in men.

And she didn't need anyone but her sisters and her friends to be happy. She was mistress of her own life and content to stay that way forever. She knew what she wanted for her future, and it was
not
being shackled to a husband who would hurt her and betray her and use his power against her and make her so miserable that she cried into her pillow every night, the way her father had done her mother.

And now that she had her own modest fortune, Lily reminded herself, she could indulge in her long-held dreams. From the time she could read, she had pored over history tomes and geological maps and expedition accounts, in part as a way to escape her parents' battles. She had longed for the day when she could take control of her life; when she could fulfill her desire to travel the world and explore unknown lands and experience new adventures.

Oh, she might have someday liked to have children to love and cherish, but she would leave that to Arabella, and perhaps Roslyn. For herself, Lily was satisfied with teaching at the Freemantle Academy for Young Ladies, molding girls on the cusp of womanhood to stand up for themselves, despite their merchant-class origins, and providing them with skills to compete in the haughty world of the ton.

She had few duties at the Academy during the summer term, however, since most of the pupils had returned home to their families. So this was an ideal time to go to London—in more ways than one.

Most definitely she would be glad to escape Lord Claybourne's unwanted attentions. And she would find it very satisfying if she could help Fanny's fellow Cyprians solve their financial problems.

Just as gratifying, Lily reflected with a small frisson of pleasure, she would be starting a brand new chapter in her life. Now that the wedding celebrations were finally over, she could begin charting her own course for a life of freedom and adventure.

         

By the time Tess arrived and joined Lily in her bedchamber, she had written a note to Fanny, which she'd sent off to London by messenger, and had nearly finished packing.

“Roslyn doesn't seem to have suffered from her ordeal, thankfully,” Tess said, taking a seat in a side chair. “But she tells me you are planning an excursion to London.”

“Yes,” Lily replied as she rummaged through her wardrobe for the final items she would need for an extended stay. “I mean to leave this afternoon.”

“Surely that is a bit rash—fleeing home so you can escape Lord Claybourne's attentions.”

“Not at all. But in truth, I have another very good reason to go. Fanny is in a bit of financial difficulty.”

Tess frowned. “What sort of difficulty?”

“It is a matter of gambling debts, although not Fanny's. This past spring two of her oldest courtesan friends lost enormous sums at the Faro tables, and the gaming hell owner is demanding repayment now. Fanny is trying to keep her friends out of debtors' prison, or worse.”

“You are speaking of Fleur and Chantel?”

“Yes. They took Fanny under their wing when she first came to London eight years ago, so she is not about to abandon them.” Lily glanced back at Tess. “I didn't want to mention their troubles to Roslyn, for then she would feel obliged to get involved, and she deserves to rest after all her endeavors. But I hope to help Fanny myself.”

Tess's frown deepened. “And you intend to stay at Fanny's rooming house? Lily, that place is little more than a home for lightskirts, run by two famous Cyprians.”

“I suppose so.”

Fleur Delee and Chantel Amour had been the most celebrated courtesans of their day, but they had passed their prime long ago and were now in their sixth decade. When their careers had waned and they'd had difficulty supporting themselves, Fanny had bought a large mansion to provide them a home. Not wanting to be a burden, they offset expenses by taking in boarders, mainly other members of the demimonde.

“But that,” Lily explained, “is precisely why their boardinghouse could be an ideal hiding place for me. Claybourne is unlikely to find me there. And if he should happen to learn where I've gone”—Lily smiled a little—“I expect he will be too scandalized to discover me living with lightskirts to want me for his future marchioness.”

Tess shook her head in exasperation. “You could be asking for trouble.”

That comment made Lily laugh. “I wouldn't mind a bit of trouble to enliven my life. Indeed, that is part of my plan's charm. I mean to look upon it as an adventure…the first of many, I hope.”

“You couldn't find another adventure besides taking up with Fanny's notorious friends?”

Lily arched an eyebrow. “You don't expect me to keep away from them because of any prudish notions I ought to have?”

“I suspect,” Tess said dryly, “there isn't a prudish bone in your body. But aren't you the least concerned about your reputation?”

“Not overmuch. I doubt I will be recognized, since I know few people in London. And I intend to remain as inconspicuous as possible.”

“I should hope so. Advertising your presence there would not be good for your sisters—or for your continued career at the Academy, either.”

“Indeed. So I must keep my location a secret. I will take refuge there and tell the world I have gone to visit my former home in Hampshire. Only you and Roslyn will know where I truly am. Certainly I don't want Winifred to know.”

“You intend to deceive her?” Tess asked in surprise.

Lily's smile turned rueful. “I fear I have no choice. Otherwise she will doubtless tell the marquess I am in London, and then he will likely call on me there, and I don't want to have to deal with him. So you must help Winifred misdirect him and throw him off my trail.”

Tess finally laughed. “Very well, if you insist. But just remember, I warned you. Is there anything I may do to help you prepare?”

“No, thank you. But you and Roslyn could handle my few classes at the Academy, if you don't mind?”

“Of course I don't mind. You have done the same for me numerous times.”

Lily smiled, glad that her obligations would be taken care of. And their elderly butler, Simpkin, could be trusted to look after Boots and the kittens. She would say farewell to the felines before she set out for London this afternoon.

At the thought, Lily felt a swell of anticipation bubble up inside her. Living with Fanny's Cyprian friends should indeed prove an interesting adventure.

And in the meantime, she wouldn't be bedeviled by a handsome, devastatingly charming nobleman or have to worry about fending off his unwanted, thoroughly bewildering desire to court her.

Chapter Three

I cannot believe that Lord Claybourne found me, and worse—that he still means to court me!

—Lily to Fanny

London, two days later

“I wish we could send that dastardly villain to Hades,” Chantel Amour muttered as she daintily sipped her tea.

“He is not quite a villain,” Fanny replied dryly. “He is simply a keen businessman. And he wants payment for the debt you and Fleur incurred in his gaming hell.”

Fleur Delee gave an elegant sniff. “You cannot believe Mick O'Rourke is anything less than odious, Fanny. Not when he is coercing you to pay or else he will lay charges against us to send us to debtor's prison.”

“I never said he isn't odious. Just that we are in this fix because you gambled away a fortune you didn't have.”

“But O'Rourke plied us with brandy and encouraged us to play deep at the Faro table,” Chantel complained. “I have no doubt he arranged the entire episode because of you, Fanny. He wants you to agree to be his
chère amie.

Fanny pressed her lips together. “I
know
what Mick wants, but he won't get it. We will just have to think of another way to repay him.”

Lily looked on as the three friends argued. When she'd shown up unexpectedly on the doorstep of Fanny's London home two days ago, she had been welcomed without much protest once she explained about needing to escape Lord Claybourne's unwanted attentions. An hour later she was settled here in the boardinghouse run by Fleur and Chantel.

To Lily's surprise, the mansion was quite large and unexpectedly elegant. She'd been given her own bedchamber on the third floor and invited to use the owners' private sitting room on the floor below, as well as the communal drawing room and the two small parlors on the main floor.

This afternoon the four of them had gathered in Fleur and Chantel's private sitting room in order to discuss possible ways of earning enough money to repay the enormous gaming debt they owed.

Watching the women together, Lily had no trouble seeing the tremendous affection Fanny bore the aging courtesans. Reportedly they had taught Fanny everything they knew when she first entered the trade eight years ago, so she was determined to help them now.

Lily could also understand why the former Cyprians were once considered the toast of London. Though Fleur's auburn locks were now unnaturally aided by henna dye, and Chantel's blond tresses somewhat concealed the liberal strands of gray, they were still fascinating women, despite their faded beauty. Lily found them exceedingly warm and charming, although a trifle dreamy-eyed and scatterbrained. It seemed to her that they spent most of their time lamenting their lost allure and reminiscing about their bygone glory when they had reigned over the London demimonde.

In the past two days, Lily had heard countless stories about their long-ago conquests, as well as the details of how they had come to be in such dire straits now: They'd spent a disastrous night at the Faro tables at Mick O'Rourke's gaming club and lost nearly
forty thousand pounds.

Fanny, of course, had come to their rescue and paid off a quarter of the debt—ten thousand pounds, almost every penny she had saved—but they still owed the enormous sum of thirty thousand pounds. And they were exceedingly worried now, since O'Rourke was threatening to send them to prison.

He had offered to forgo the debt in exchange for Fanny's exclusive services as his mistress, but she was loath to accept. Fanny had a history with O'Rourke, since he'd been one of her first patrons when she set out on her career as a courtesan. But even though they once were lovers and he had since made a vast fortune by pulling himself up from his harsh, low-class origins and making a success of his gaming club, he refused to show leniency toward her friends.

Which was an unforgivable sin, to Chantel's mind. She had always viewed O'Rourke as uncouth and loutish, but now she considered him downright dastardly.

“I should think,” Chantel mused aloud, “that you could apply to one of your current protectors for the funds.”

Fanny shook her head. “Even if one of my gentlemen were inclined to such munificence—which I very much doubt—it would leave me uncomfortably obliged to him.”

Lily had heard Fanny's rationale before this. She never allowed any of her patrons exclusive privileges, since she didn't want anyone having such power over her; for if her lover abruptly decided to end their arrangement, he could cut her off without a penny and leave her scrambling for her livelihood.

Lily could sympathize with her friend, since she herself was adamant about never giving any man control over her own fate.

“There is another possibility, Fanny,” Fleur said, biting into a biscuit. “You could sell your memoirs.”

“No, that is
not
possible.”

“What memoirs?” Lily asked curiously.

Fanny gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don't even wish to discuss it.”

Fleur leaned forward and whispered in a conspiratorial tone to Lily, “A publisher has offered to pay dearly for Fanny's memoirs if she will share titillating tales about her illustrious clientele.”

“We are not that desperate,” Fanny responded.

“I cannot fathom why you won't at least consider it,” Chantel added plaintively.

“Because the sale would only cover part of your debt. More importantly, even if I wished to expose my former patrons in that distasteful way—which I do not—my memoirs would take time to write, and Mick has given us only one month, a concession he made very reluctantly after much pleading on my part, I might add.”

“But have you considered,” Fleur interjected, “how lucrative it could prove if you chose
not
to expose your lovers? There must be quite a few gentlemen who would pay handsomely to be left out of your recollections.”

Fanny's gaze narrowed on the older courtesan. “You mean blackmail, do you, Fleur? That is totally out of the question. Not merely because it is unprincipled, but because I don't want to make enemies of London's elite set. Were I to do so, I could find it difficult to remain employed.”

Fleur offered a graceful shrug of her shoulders. “Well, I do not see how we are to come about if you insist on being so virtuous. Beggars cannot afford to be choosers, Fanny.”

“I am not reduced to begging yet,” she said tartly.

“It is a pity our boarders cannot help us,” Chantel lamented with a heavy sigh.

Fleur's scoffing sound was very much like a snort. “Indeed. But they earn a pittance compared to what we once did.”

“Because they haven't our former skills
or
our former beauty,” said Chantel.

“Or our refinement,” Fleur added sagely.

Chantel gave a sad nod.

Lily comprehended what they meant by a lack of refinement. There were over a dozen female boarders lodging in the mansion, all from the lower classes, some who were just beginning to become established as members of the muslin company, or
demimondaines,
the polite term Chantel insisted on using instead of prostitute or harlot. Of the girls who roomed here, the majority were opera dancers and actresses who supplemented their meager incomes by becoming part-time mistresses. But several sold their wares in various clubs and pleasure houses in the nearby theater district.

Fleur and Chantel, on the other hand—and Fanny also—could claim superior birth and breeding, which had allowed them to excel at their profession and command a much higher class of clientele.

Looking despondent, the elder courtesans fell silent, until Fleur finally mused aloud. “What we need are some very rich men to come to our rescue.”

“That goes without saying,” Chantel agreed. “But how do we acquire such men? You and I have lost the ability to attract wealthy patrons.”

“Alas, that is true. But several of our lodgers are beautiful enough to take our places. With the right guidance from us, they could be groomed to act in our stead.”

“But what would be the point?” Chantel asked dismissively.

“Don't be such a slow top, love,” Fleur chided. “If some of our boarders could land rich protectors, they could help us pay off our debt to O'Rourke.”

“But how would they even meet any rich protectors?” Chantel huffed. “Such prizes are not scattered about waiting to be scooped up, you know.”

“Of course not, but some could be found if we search hard enough. Just consider, Chantel. We could hold a soiree just like the old days. And we could invite everyone Fanny knows. She has valuable connections among the ton, and we still have a few ourselves.”

For more than two decades Fleur and Chantel had reportedly held elegant soirees and entertained the cream of artistic and intellectual London society, even though they now no longer entertained at all.

“Well…I suppose we
could
hold a soiree,” Chantel answered. “But the effort would be futile, since our boarders will never become more refined.”

Fanny suddenly sat up as if her interest had been piqued. “Perhaps it would not be impossible with the right tutor.” She cast a glance at Lily. “Do you think you could instruct some of our boarders in the social graces, Lily? Just as you do at your Academy for Young Ladies?”

Lily's brow furrowed. “Why do you ask?”

Fleur's expression also brightened as she regard Lily. “Because, darling,” Fleur explained, “our boarders need cultivation if our plan is to succeed. Demireps from the lower orders cannot easily attract wealthy noblemen or gentlemen. Members of the Quality want refinement, not bawdy manners and coarse speech. The girls here would have been drummed out of our former soirees the instant they opened their mouths.”

“Yes,” Chantel chimed in. “Wit and charm are important, but proper diction and accent are crucial. Those and deportment are the biggest handicaps preventing them from acquiring wealthier protectors.” Breaking off, Chantel suddenly stared at Lily as well. “
Could
you teach our girls, dear?”

Lily found herself frowning as she considered the question. The idea of helping young women sell themselves to rich men unsettled her more than a little, yet she didn't want to refuse outright. “Perhaps. It should not be much different from the academy my sisters and I started three years ago. We teach girls from the merchant classes how to become more refined and ladylike, so they can hold their own in genteel society.”

“It might solve all our problems,” Fleur admitted with enthusiasm.

“Is there some other way for them to help you repay the debt?” Lily hedged.

“Not such an enormous sum.”

Lily couldn't dispute her. Respectable jobs as servants earned perhaps ten pounds per annum. Even the most elite positions open to women—housekeepers of large estates, governess to wealthy families—rarely paid more than fifty pounds.

“There is always my settlement,” Lily suggested. When all three women looked blankly at her, she expounded. “The funds Lord Danvers settled upon me at my emancipation from his guardianship. It amounts to twenty thousand pounds, Fanny. You are welcome to have it.”

Giving a little gasp, Chantel clapped her hands together in delight. “I knew you were a right 'un, Lily darling.”

But Fanny frowned. “I could never take your money, Lily.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have plans for those funds. In any case, your fortune isn't enough to satisfy the entire debt. We would still owe Mick an enormous sum, and you would be destitute again.”

“I suspect Roslyn would gladly share her portion.”

“Perhaps, but I have no intention of asking her. You both were virtually penniless three years ago, but now you are finally able to afford an independent life of your own. I won't spoil that under any circumstances.”

It was Lily's turn to frown. “Fanny, if you think I will let you enslave yourself to a man you don't even like simply so I can spend a fortune I never expected on jaunting all over the globe, you have gone completely daft. What kind of friend would I be?”

“You know you have always wanted to travel.”

“So I have, but the circumstances have changed. You need the funds far more than I do.”

Fanny smiled faintly. “Thank you, dearest. I will consider accepting if the situation becomes truly dire, but not until then. Seriously, Lily, I believe Fleur's idea of helping our boarders to acquire wealthy patrons would serve far better. Raising their station holds such tremendous advantages for those girls, I'm certain they will agree to help us pay off the debt in exchange for the exceptional training we can provide. So what do you say? Could you teach them to speak and behave with more gentility?”

Lily pursed her lips in thought. Manners and deportment were certainly
not
her forte. She was far more at home coaching the Academy's pupils in sporting activities such as riding and archery, and physical skills such as dancing. But she could manage if the girls were willing to learn.

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