More laughter ensued, and they made their way out of the parlor. They had barely reached the stairs when they heard a woman’s distinctive voice. “I’d be happy to help you hold ’em down, love.” Which was followed by a squeal as Pemberton, no doubt, took Alice to task.
They climbed the stairs in silence, next to each other but not touching. Anthony didn’t look forward to sleeping on the settee, but he would not make Lissa uncomfortable. After opening the door, he stepped aside so she could enter. No sooner had he turned and closed the door then her hands came around his waist, her cheek against his back.
“Thank you for bringing me with you.” She squeezed him, the happiness in her voice making him want to turn around and see her face.
She quickly let go, and he turned just in time to see her dark eyes alight with joy, her lips parted in a wide smile, much like in France. “This”—she spread her arms wide—“is what life is, learning and experiencing new things. No wonder you won’t give up your investigations.” She flopped down on the settee and spread out as Alice had been. “I never knew about the life of a courtesan. I do believe I prefer their company over theton.” She paused. “Excepting my fellow curious ladies, who have wonderful hearts. But so do these women, or rather some of them.”
She sat up straight. “That Selene is odd. How can a prude be a courtesan? And Alice…” She grinned. “She doesn’t hide anything. I do believe I could be great friends with both Delilah and Violet. I wonder what this Alberta is like. Most likely another lady swooning over Leighhall’s charming manner.” Her nose wrinkled. “Delilah and Violet know it isn’t sincere.”
Since there was no other chair, he moved to the bed’s foot post and leaned against it. “Did they have anything else to say about Leighhall or his activities?”
“Indeed they did.” She sobered. “Delilah has been here the most, since she’s been with Rothbury three years now. She said at least once each time Leighhall loses his temper about something and it is scary to behold. She also said she’d overheard his talking about some of his women, and it was quite unpleasant.”
That was a mild way to phrase it, but he understood. “I’m sorry she had to hear that.”
“Oh, but it wasn’t all she heard. You’re right. He is vengeful. She said he took revenge upon a woman just this year for something she did three years ago.”
“What did she do?”
“She refused to lie with him when he chose her at a brothel. At a brothel, no less! It took him three years, but he finally managed his revenge by paying two men to tup her, which she loved, but they used no French letters. She became pregnant and had to leave the brothel, as that was their rule.”
“And I imagine she had no way to support herself and the child.”
Lissa shook her head. “No one knows what became of her. I wonder how two men tup one woman. Do they take turns?”
His anger at Leighhall turned faster than a water spout. The thought of another man with Lissa, never mind two, had him curling his fingers into fists. “You would not like it.”
“Probably not, especially two men I didn’t know.”
He didn’t care if she did know them. Two men were out of the question. Actually, any man was out of the question.
When the hell had he become possessive? No, not possessive, just protective. Risking his own life in his investigations was one matter, but even if there were no threat to them, he’d already risked her innocence, or rather her ignorance. No, that wasn’t right either. He couldn’t quite name it, but he wanted to protect her from more sexual knowledge than she needed. Something told him he wasn’t making sense, but he ignored it. He simply needed to protect Lissa.
“Neither Violet nor Delilah care for Selene. I think it’s because she acts as if there is some hierarchy among mistresses, which I’ve been assured there is not, at least among the ones housed by peers. She believes she is of better status, I think.”
“Better status? How?” He’d never had a mistress, though he’d enjoyed many women’s company from most levels of society. So his knowledge in the societal norms of fallen women was woefully lacking, not that he thought he’d ever need it.
Lissa sat straighter and lifted her chin like the finest debutante at a ball. “Why? Because she was the courtesan of Lord Morely, the very good friend of King George, until just a fortnight ago, when he was told some absolute lies about her and he threw her over.” Lissa dropped her chin and grinned. “As she tells it, Leighhall was such a dear as to offer to take her on for a few weeks until she settled on a new protector.”
Something clicked in his mind. “Selene was the mistress of Morely?”
“Yes. Why, is that important?”
“I don’t know.” He pushed away from the bedpost and strolled to the fireplace, which, now lit, gave plenty of warmth to the room on the cool autumn night. “This is the third connection to the royal family I’ve stumbled upon.”
Lissa rose, turning to face him, her gaze intense with excitement. “What are the connections? Maybe if you talk through the information, we can find the common thread.”
That did make sense, and if he admitted it only to himself, he did value her keen insight. “Very well. The first was Mrs. Boscawen, the laundress and seamstress to Queen Charlotte. Leighhall spent two nights at an inn with her en route to visiting her family. The second was this evening, when I discovered that Leighhall and the regent write letters to each other after some past escapade of a sexual nature, or so it was intimated.”
She cocked her head. “And now his mistress for a few weeks is the discarded mistress of a man who everyone knows is great friend of the king.” She dropped her hand as her brow furrowed. “Those are connections to the top three royals. It appears the viscount is well situated.”
“Yes, it does.” But Anthony’s instinct was telling him there was more, and he began to pace. “The connection to the regent is direct, but precipitated by a common enjoyment of women.My guess is they shared one or participated in some, um, sexual event.”
Lissa didn’t say anything, but she did roll her eyes.
“The other two are connections to Prinny’s parents, one a direct servant and the other a less-direct mistress of a close friend. Could it be coincidence?”
“Are you not the one who told me there are no coincidences and that someone just needs to look deeper to find the reason?” She folded her arms over her chest, which made it easier for him to think.
