Madeline sighed. “People react oddly when he is mentioned. He seems to be a cold man, respected, but perhaps not much liked.” After a long silence she added, “They say he is the principal spymaster of the government, and that he drove his wife mad and keeps her locked in a castle in Scotland.”
“Heavens,” Diana said with a lift of her brows. “How gothic! Is there any evidence for such charges?”
“Not really,” Madeline admitted. “I questioned as many people as I could, and no one is even sure that he is married, but since the rumor is persistent, it must mean something. St. Aubyn seldom goes out in society, and there was considerable comment when he appeared at Harriette’s tonight.” As an afterthought she added, “He’s very rich.”
“Of the things you have just told me, what makes him an unsuitable choice as a protector? Certainly not his wealth.”
The carriage pulled up in front of the house and Madeline didn’t answer as they entered and climbed up to the older woman’s rooms. The floor contained two suites, each with bedchamber, sitting room, built-in closets, and bath chambers with the incredible luxury of fitted tubs. In the past the front suite had been Maddy’s, but now she preferred the back because it was quieter. Geoffrey and Edith had the floor above, and the female servants lived in the attics.
Diana felt compunction when she saw the fatigue on her friend’s face. In spite of her restored health, Maddy was no longer young, she had been very ill, and this return to her old life must be a strain even without her concern for her protégée. Sitting Madeline down, Diana poured a glass of sherry for her, then pulled the pins from her friend’s dark hair and began brushing it out.
When Madeline was more comfortable, Diana asked again, “Why would Lord St. Aubyn be such a poor choice for a lover?”
“Because of the kind of man he is: cold and unloving. Even if he is not a spy and never had a wife, he is unlikely to make you happy.” Madeline sighed and closed her eyes. “You will allow that I know more about men and love than you do?”
“Of course I will admit that.” Diana unfastened Maddy’s dress, then helped her into a soft red wrapper. With a sigh of relaxation, the older woman curled up in the chair while Diana poured a glass of sherry for herself, then sat on the sofa opposite Madeline and began to unpin her own hair. “Now, tell me, why does St. Aubyn disturb you so much?”
Maddy absently twisted the stem of her sherry glass. “My strongest objection to your entering this life is that you are too emotional, too loving. I doubt your ability to let your head rule your heart where a lover is concerned. A successful courtesan must have some detachment. The worst thing she can do is to fall in love with her protector.” With a crooked smile she added, “I did that. I can’t recommend it.”
Diana gazed into the amber wine. “Can love ever be wrong?”
Madeline shrugged wearily. “It may not be wrong, but it is often painful. It won’t keep you warm and comfortable in your later years when your lover has discarded you for a younger woman or retired to live piously with his wellborn wife.”
Diana had always suspected that something more than illness had driven Madeline from London two years ago. She said with gentle compassion, “I’m sorry. Is that what happened to you?”
Madeline was silent for so long that Diana thought she would not answer. Finally she said, “Not really. Nicholas was my last protector, for over seven years. His evil-tempered wife lived in the country so we were able to spend much of our time together in London. He was the one who bought this house for me, and he was here more often than in his own home.”
She sipped her sherry, lost in her memories. Then she said bleakly, “He wanted to marry me. Isn’t that droll?”
“Not in the least,” Diana answered quietly, drawing her fingers through her long tresses to loosen the snarls. “You are lovely and kind, a desirable wife for any man.”
The candlelight caught a gleam of tears in Madeline’s eyes. “It is not quite unknown for a man like him to marry a woman like me. After all, Emma Hart became the British ambassadress to Sicily by marrying Sir William Hamilton, and she was no better born or behaved than I. Society’s high sticklers might have cut Nicholas and me, but that wouldn’t have bothered either of us.”
Her face tightened. “But Nicholas was not free to marry. His wife was far too cold a woman to be guilty of misconduct, so there was no possibility of divorce. Still, we were happy until his wife decided to end his relationship with me, threatening to ruin him with his family and their children.
“He was badly torn. He did not want to give me up, but everything in his life was being weighed on the other side of the scales.” She rotated the fragile stem of her sherry glass between stiff fingers. “I have wondered if my grief at the situation had something to do with my illness. I have seen it before, how unhappiness leads to bad health.” Lifting the glass, she drained it, and Diana silently rose and poured more.
In a stronger voice Madeline said, “I left London, partly so that he would no longer have to choose between me and the rest of his life, partly so that he wouldn’t have to see me die. You know the rest.”
“I see.” Diana was silent for a moment. “Is your Nicholas still in London?”
Madeline shook her head. “No. That is the first thing I inquired about once we arrived here. He is living entirely at his estate in the country now. I would not be going out in public if there were any chance of meeting him.” With sad finality she whispered, “I couldn’t bear to see him again. Nothing has changed. Or at least, I haven’t. Perhaps he has. I hope so. It would be easier for him if he no longer loves me.”
Diana’s face reflected her compassion. It was typical of the older woman’s generous spirit that she wished her lover free of the sorrow that she herself still suffered.
Maddy sighed. “Do you understand better why a courtesan shouldn’t fall in love with her protector? There may be moments of joy, but those are few compared to the pain. There are so many ways in which a grand passion can be disastrous, and almost none in which it can bring happiness. It is far better to have a protector who is a friend, or one whom you love only a little.”
“If St. Aubyn is as cold as you believe, do you really think I could fall in love with him?”
“I think you will fall in love with any man you choose as your lover,” Madeline said bluntly. “It is a bad habit women have, and you are more vulnerable than most. You yourself don’t know how much you are crying out to be loved, and to love back.”
“But I have a great deal of love in my life . . . Geoffrey, Edith, you,” Diana stated with maddening calm. “Why are you so sure I will fall headlong for a man just because we are lovers?”
“Sexual love is very different from love for a child or a friend. No matter how powerful those other loves are, they don’t fill the basic need of a woman to have a man.” Madeline leaned forward a little, her voice earnest. “Please, trust my judgment on this and don’t become involved with St. Aubyn. Choose a man like Lord Ridgley. He isn’t half so handsome, but he will adore you. Or that lovely boy Clinton, who will write poems to your eyebrows. Even if there is pain at the end, it won’t be devastating and you will have some happy memories of the affair.”
She shook her head wearily. “I’ve known men like St. Aubyn. Certainly he is attractive and can afford to pay generously for the privilege of keeping you. He may even provide pleasure in bed. But he will give you little kindness, and less love.”
Diana drew her knees up on the sofa and linked her arms around them, leaning her head forward. Her voice low, she said, “I’m sorry, Maddy. I daresay you are right, but . . . this is something I must do.”
