To Seduce a Bride

Finally she swallowed. “Miss Loring…do you think it would be possible…” She cleared her throat. “That is, would your friends…be willing to find respectable employment for me, perhaps?”

Lily regarded Peg with a quizzical look. Her tale was somewhat similar to Betty’s in that both girls had found themselves on the streets, forced to fend for themselves. Except that Peg had worked in a noble household in London as a lady’s maid. When her lordly master had cornered her in a drunken stupor and kissed her against her will, his lady-wife had caught them together and dismissed Peg without a character. Unable to find respectable work without proper references, Peg had found employment as a ballet dancer with the Royal Opera, although she’d been hired for her exquisite beauty rather than her meager dance skills.

Peg’s request was puzzling, however, since she had just garnered a very wealthy baronet as a protector.

“I thought you were pleased with the arrangement you made with Sir Robert,” Lily said slowly.

“I am pleased, Miss Loring. I mean…Sir Robert is a better patron than I ever hoped for. But I…I don’t really want to be his mistress. Truth to tell, I hate it,” she said in a low ardent voice. “I was a good girl before I became a demirep. And when I must sin that way…Sometimes I want to die, too.”

Lily felt herself flinch as a sharp knife of guilt stabbed her. She had thought Peg was merely painfully shy, not that she was so dreadfully unhappy.

“I never realized, Peg,” Lily murmured, feeling a little sick inside. “I am sorry I encouraged you to join our lessons, or helped prepare you for the soiree. I thought it was what you wanted.”

“Oh, no, Miss Loring…that wasn’t my meaning! I don’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate your lessons. I did. If I must earn my living on my back, it is far better to serve a rich gentleman. No, you were wondrous, teaching us all how to better ourselves. But if I could quit this life, I would, and gladly. And if you could help me…I would be ever so grateful.”

Lily couldn’t speak for a moment; her throat had closed with the threat of tears when she considered the plight of these poor women. Their lives were a constant struggle; they had no family, no future, with little hope of happiness or joy. But she could change that.

“Of course I will help you, Peg,” Lily declared, her voice thick with emotion. “There is no question that I will do everything in my power for you.”

Peg’s lips quivered in a tremulous smile. “I have learned one useful skill recently, at least. I’ve become very clever with a needle, sewing costumes for my fellow dancers. I could perhaps work in a modiste’s shop as an apprentice…or as a dresser’s assistant.”

“Yes, Miss Loring,” Betty broke in earnestly, despite her own troubles. “Peg has a splendid eye for fashion. Why, she could create her own designs if she had the chance. You should see her sketches. They put La Belle Ensemble to shame.”

“I didn’t realize,” Lily said, impressed.

Peg blushed. “Well, I have no real training, but I designed a morning gown for Miss Delee last season, which she professed to be very pleased with.”

“I will arrange something, I promise you.”

It was a promise she would do her utmost to keep, Lily vowed moments later as she climbed the stairs to her own bedchamber, where she sat and stewed about what to do for Betty and Peg.

An even greater tragedy, Lily reflected with anger and dismay, was that there were countless other young women just like them who faced similar bleak futures. Girls who found themselves destitute and defenseless, with no one to turn to and no friends or family to depend on.

In the long term, Lily resolved, she would set her mind to determining how she could help some of those poor unfortunates find shelter and support. Somewhere they could be safe, where they could learn a trade so they wouldn’t have to turn to prostitution merely to survive.

But that could wait, Lily knew; her friends needed help now.

She was confident she could find suitable employment for Peg, but with a child on the way, Betty was a much more serious problem.

She would have liked to talk the situation over with Fleur and Chantel-now, at once. The sooner she could find positions for the girls, the sooner they could begin their new lives and leave the ones they hated.

But the elderly courtesans were still attending the play with Lord Claybourne and Lord Poole. And Basil was out with his chums and fellow law clerks at his favorite tavern. After the success of the soiree, Basil had been eager to return to his former life, since his tutelage was no longer required by their pupils.

Asking Winifred to help Betty, however, would likely be futile, Lily suspected. Ordinarily the wealthy widow sympathized with the working class, since she came from the same origins. Winifred could usually be counted on to be magnanimous with the vast fortune her late industrialist father had amassed from his manufacturing and mining enterprises. But in this instance, Lily surmised, Winifred would just tell her to apply to Lord Claybourne.

She could perhaps ask Marcus for assistance, since he was now her brother by marriage as well as her former guardian. But Marcus had done more than enough for her by taking in the two boarders she’d already sent to Danvers Hall last month.

“You know what you must do,” Lily murmured to herself.

She worried her lower lip as she came to a reluctant conclusion: Even though she disliked asking Heath for help because she didn’t want to be indebted to him, he was her most logical choice. She shouldn’t let her aversion to being dependent on a man stand in the way of doing what was best for Betty.

As a wealthy nobleman, Heath had significant resources she didn’t have, including several estates and a vast servant staff. Moreover, he had voluntarily found a home for a stray dog. He might be willing to do the same for a deserving young woman and her unborn child.

And as her sister Arabella had recently pointed out, Lily reflected, Heath didn’t seem to be the typical selfish, uncaring nobleman-although in her case, his generosity toward her had doubtless had a purpose, trying to earn points to win their game.

Deciding she ought to approach Heath first, Lily put her mind to developing the argument she would present to him in order to persuade him.

Three hours later, nearing the time when she could reasonably expect his carriage to return from the theater, she went downstairs and took up a position in the entrance hall on a footman’s bench, passing the interval reading Travels by the light of a wall sconce.

As soon as she heard the sound of carriage wheels out on the street, Lily threw a shawl around her shoulders and went to the front door.

It was indeed Lord Claybourne bringing his party home, she saw upon stepping outside. Night had fallen, but the carriage lamps illuminated his tall, powerful figure as he stood on the curb, saying farewell to his guests.

In the event he didn’t plan to accompany them inside, Lily descended the steps and moved down the sidewalk toward the street.

Lord Poole noticed her first. “Ah, Miss Loring, I did not expect to see you again this evening. The play was splendid, just splendid. You should have come.”

Chantel had explained to her new beau that Lily didn’t want to attract notice by going out in public, but the elderly viscount was a bit absentminded, so he tended to forget.

Lily murmured something polite in response to Lord Poole’s comments, but her attention was on Heath, whose eyebrow was arched in question as he asked, “Is something amiss, Miss Loring?”

“I wondered if I might I have a word with you in private, my lord.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Of course. Shall I accompany you inside the house, or would you prefer to use my carriage?”

Glancing at his carriage, Lily flushed as she remembered what had happened the last time she was alone with him there. “The house, please.”

They had followed the Cyprians and Lord Poole inside when Fleur stated, “We will be in our sitting room when you are finished, my dear.”

Nodding, Lily led Heath to the nearby parlor.

“May I offer you some wine or port?” she asked as soon as he shut the door behind them.

His penetrating gaze surveyed her. “Why so formal, angel?”

“I suppose because I am nervous.”