“Yes,” Fleur confirmed. “My twin brother. He is outside?—”
“Oh, that cannot be borne.” She swept forward and opened the door. “You, on the horse. Come inside.”
She waved Flavian inside and as she returned to Fleur, she knew her time was limited if she wanted to discuss her opportunity with the lady. Afraid she would be interrupted again, Fleur boldly announced, “I wish for your help in finding a wealthy benefactor.”
Instantly, a carefully manicured brow lifted. “You wish to become a courtesan?” Her knowing gaze traveled down Fleur’s body then back up. “You are surely an innocent.”
“Currently, yes,” she concurred. “But don’t gentleman pay well for a… virgin?”
The lady was completely focused now. “Indeed, they can.”
Fleur dared to further blurt out, “My brother got himself into trouble over a gambling debt. We were forced to flee Greenwich this very evening.”
“How much does he owe?”
Fleur hated to repeat the sum. It caused a sick feeling in her stomach each time she did so. “Six hundred pounds.”
The second brow joined the first. “My. A hefty sum. No wonder you are willing to barter your innocence.”
“I find no other option,” Fleur said firmly.
“No,” Harriette returned with a solemness she’d never seen from the woman before, and likely would not see after. “Most of us usually don’t.”
As Flavian entered the foyer, the conversation halted. Although Harriette leaned over to speak softly, “I will see what I can do to ease your circumstances.” Fleur was filled with a mixture of relief and abhorrence. She was grateful for Harriette’s assistance but she was not looking forward to the distasteful task ahead of her.
But unfortunately, it must be done.
As Harriette walked over and cooed over Flavian, Fleur forced a smile to her face as she watched her brother absorb the attention.
And prayed for her fate.
* * *
Drake lita cheroot and exhaled a long cloud of white smoke as he leaned against the lamp post that afternoon, patiently waiting for his quarry to appear.
He’d arrived in London in the early hours of the morning and went to one of his many residences throughout the city. Considering the sort of illustrious life he’d led, he had felt it necessary to acquire several secret locations. Luckily for him, one of those was a townhouse in Chelsea, not far from where he hoped to come across Miss Davies.
After a few queries in some of the servant’s ears who loved to gossip, he’d quickly learned that Harriette Wilson had received a couple of late-night visitors just a few hours earlier. Curious as to why Miss Davies and her brother might choose to turn to a notorious courtesan for assistance, Drake figured that she had her reasons and that they would be revealed in due time.
All he had to do was wait.
After exhaling another long drag from his cheroot, Drake was pleased to find that he didn’t have long to cool his heels before a carriage stopped in the street. Harriette was the first to disembark and as she turned to smile at someone behind her, Drake narrowed his eyes when he recognized the familiar figure of Miss Davies.
As the coach was unloaded with several boxes, he realized that they had spent the day shopping. A rather curious way for a courtesan and a poor woman to spend the day—unless it was for a purpose. One that might gain back the blunt that had been spent.
Drake considered the prospect as they disappeared into the house and the door shut behind them.
If Flavian was any sort of man, he wouldn’t allow his sister to barter her body for coin but considering he was the reason she might have been forced to sell her personal wares, Drake wasn’t hopeful that he would put a stop to anything.
Grinding the last of the cheroot beneath his heel, Drake headed for Harriette’s residence but instead of walking up the steps to the front entrance, he walked around back to the servant’s entrance. He rapped lightly on the door that opened into the kitchens. A young woman was standing there expectantly. One of the maids he would imagine.
Adopting his most charismatic demeanor, Drake removed his cap and offered a slight bow. Her cheeks immediately turned a delicate shade of pink. “Good day, miss,” he said in a caressing tone. “I was hoping that you might help me locate a friend. I was told she was staying here.”
She smiled broadly from the attention. “Who migh’ that be, guvn’r?”
“Miss Fleur Davies.”
Recognition instantly lit her eyes. “Oh, yes. She’s ’ere. Shall I grab ’er for you?”
