Thus, he found it was up to him to take matters into his own hands. When he’d received word from the men he had following Lord Gregory and found out what was transpiring this night, Hunter knew he couldn’t see another young woman get debauched, even if she was the daughter of one of the most celebrated courtesans of all time.
Looking into the girl’s innocent blue eyes and realizing just how young she was nearly made him cast up his accounts, although he knew he’d done the right thing. He bowed slightly.
“Your servant, Miss…?” He paused, for he realized he didn’t even know the name of his prize.
“Miss Persephone Welton, Your Grace.” She gestured toward the stairs that led to the upper level. “Shall we retire to my rooms so that I may properly show my gratitude for your donation to this house?”
The very idea caused Hunter to shudder, although he withheld his revulsion. He wasn’t about to take a child’s virginity. In truth, he had never cared for bawdy houses, preferring to lay with widows who paraded about society looking for a good time. But after what had happened to his sister, Louisa, he found his desire for bed sport had diminished greatly.
“Actually, I would prefer the comfort of my own townhouse,” he murmured to the madam. “If that is agreeable to you?”
Phryne glanced at her daughter, as if considering the danger she might be in, but she gave a tight smile. “Of course. As you wish. My darling girl is yours for the night.”
Hunter nodded and then held his arm out to Persephone. “Shall, we Miss Welton?”
She accepted his arm without reservation, completely giving herself over to his care. She was as trusting as a lamb led by wolves. He should hate to see her devoured by them, as she soon would be, embarking on such a life.
He handed her into his coach and instructed his driver to return home. He sat in silence and watched the lady sit as primly as any debutante currently in London society. She had every bit as much polish in her manner of speech and decorum, although it was no secret that her upbringing would have been decidedly different. Instead of comportment lessons on how to run a household, or learning embroidery or the waltz, she’d been schooled in the darker side of London.
Hunter detested how the fairer sex was treated in society and fought in Parliament every chance he got for more rights for women, but thus far his pleas had gone virtually unheeded. Prostitution was rampant among the lower classes, and while he couldn’t save everyone, he had managed to rescue his sister from falling deeper into the mire.
And he could do the same for this girl; give her a better life that she would have otherwise been denied.
He said nothing until they arrived at his residence in Soho Square. As Persephone alighted, she glanced up at his white washed brick residence with something akin to awe. She turned to him with a smile. “It’s lovely.”
Hunter inclined his head and led her inside where the opulence of his status allowed him the best that life could offer. He’d never felt like such an ass as he led her to his study.
He walked over to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. He glanced over his shoulder at the girl. He imagined warm milk would be more appropriate for her, but forced himself to ask, “Would you care for something?”
“Sherry, please, if you have it.”
He had to smirk. It was his favorite as well.
Hunter crossed the room and handed the drink to her.
“Thank you.” She took a sip and watched him seductively over the rim. He cleared his throat, for he had to admit that for her age and inexperience, she certainly knew what to do to try a man’s resolve.
He walked over to his desk to put some distance between them, leaning against the edge as he asked, “How old are you?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Do you think I won’t be able to please you because I’m young?”
He pursed his lips together. “Just answer the question.”
“Seventeen.”
His brow furrowed. Just as he’d thought. “You may not believe this, Miss Welton, but I don’t dally with harlots.”
She hesitated, apparently confused. “Then why did you come to the auction tonight?”
“I had my reasons.” He took another sip of his sherry. “However, I fear it had nothing to do with you.”
She looked even more at sea. “Then why am I here?”
“Because I’m willing to offer you a bargain, if you are amenable.”
She downed her drink in one swallow and set the glass aside. Then she crossed her arms and regarded him steadily, eyebrows raised with interest. “I’m listening.”
“I’d like to offer my services as your protector.”
She blinked, her stance suddenly a bit less sure. “My mother would be pleased.”
“But would you?” he countered.
“I don’t know you enough to form an opinion, Your Grace.”
Hunter couldn’t help but smile. At least the girl was honest. So he decided to be the same. “To be frank with you, Miss Welton, I’m willing to offer you the chance of freedom. Live here, in this house, as my mistress.”
She eyed him warily now. “For what purpose if you aren’t interesting in tupping me?”
“A valid question, but one that will have to remain unanswered. Let’s just say that I have personal reasons for asking this as well.”
“I see.”
He wasn’t sure if that was true, but he went on regardless. “I will send you a monthly stipend that you may use however you wish, as well as my carriage for your personal use. The single stipulation I have is that you refrain from any… bed sport in my absence, otherwise my benevolence would be
