Page 60 of Only Pleasure Will Do

“My lady!” The young woman threw herself down beside the sofa, scrabbling at her mistress’s side. She dipped into a concealed pocket, withdrew a small silver bottle, unstopped it, and applied it beneath Lady Fitch’s nose.

The remedy worked wonderfully well, as the lady gasped and sat up, looking around with wild eyes, like a frightened horse.

“Thank you, Miss Samuels.” Duncan smiled at the girl and indicated the door. “I’m grateful for your assistance, but I must finish my business with Lady Fitch privately.”

Lips puckered, Miss Samuels stood and looked to the lady, obviously displeased at Duncan’s dismissal.

“You can go, Mary. I’ll be fine.” Lady Fitch settled herself and nodded to her companion.

The girl cocked her head and shot Duncan a look of mistrust, but left the room, closing the door behind her.

“I had just informed her ladyship, Morley, that contrary to what her husband apparently told her, Miss Forrester is quite alive and well and in need of her inheritance. As we still have that matter to discuss, I’ll ask you to stand guard outside, to make certain we are not interrupted.”

“My pleasure, Dalbury. My lady.” Morley bowed and strode out the door.

Duncan eyed the widow, dabbing at her eyes with a sodden handkerchief. “What lie did he tell you about your ward, Lady Fitch?”

“He said she had died in childbirth. Both she and baby. I had no reason to disbelieve him.”

“Didn’t you?” Duncan’s anger surged up from deep within him. “You didn’t believe Miss Forrester when she told you your husband had forced himself upon her, had in fact stolen her innocence beneath your own roof. Instead, you accused her of lying and threatened to turn her out of the house if she persisted in her claims. Yet she did become pregnant, didn’t she? And while under your protection. Either your husband was the culprit, or you allowed someone else unchaperoned access to a girl of sixteen.” He glared at the woman until she hung her head to stare at her hands. “Neither speaks well of you as a guardian, much less a Christian woman.”

Cowering on the sofa, Lady Fitch refused to look at him or respond.

“Do you know what your husband did after Miss Forrester gave birth to his child?” Duncan’s voice deepened with his outrage. “He used her own inheritance to buy a brothel, the House of Pleasure, and forced the girl to become a whore so she could run the establishment for him.” He waved his hand at the expensive furnishings in the room. “All of these beautiful things, carpets, furniture, objects d’art, even your mourning clothes most likely were all paid for by the monies your husband demanded Miss Forrester turn over to him each month. Money earned by poor, unfortunate women fornicating with men.” Duncan softened his voice. “What would the ladies of Society think if they knew?”

Lady Fitch jerked her head up so fast her neck popped. “You wouldn’t tell them?”

“Society has a right to know when an egregious wrong has been done and by whom. Your husband is beyond the censure of his peers—and have no doubt, had they discovered his involvement with the brothel or that he had debauched his own ward, they would have cast him out. You claim you knew nothing about it, but you don’t seem much surprised by the news.”

“I…I didn’t… He never told me what…” The woman seemed to be coming undone, bit by bit. “You must believe me, I didn’t know. He told me the girl and her child died and that he would take her inheritance and invest it in a good venture. I swear to you, I had no hand in any of it.”

“If only I believed that were so, Lady Fitch.” Duncan gave her a doleful look. “And there still is the matter Miss Forrester’s inheritance. The law will insist that the money her father settled on her be given over to her immediately.”

“You mean to go to the magistrate?” The horror in the lady’s voice suggested that was the last thing she wanted. “Can we not resolve this between ourselves? I think there is no need to involve the authorities.”

The woman wanted her connection to the House of Pleasure known to as few people as possible.

“I will be perfectly amenable to settling this between the two of us, Lord Dalbury.” Lady Fitch fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“Indeed, madam.” He raised an eyebrow. Did the woman think to trade her less than appealing favors for Maddy’s fortune? He repressed a shudder. “Then I will agree to refrain from involving the magistrate. You will arrange the transfer of the sum owed to Miss Forrester into her account at Hoare & Company?”

A sullen look came over her face, disappointment plainly visible. “Very well. What is the sum?”

“Ten thousand pounds.”

The lady gasped, her hand going to her mouth. A strangled noise escaped her lips. “Surely not as much as that?”

Duncan offered the will to her again, pointing to the amount written in Lord Forrester’s hand.

“But…but I do not have that kind of money. I would have to sell or mortgage all of my properties to raise that much.” The flicking of her eyes back and forth revealed her frantic calculations.

“Or you could simply deed the House of Pleasure over to me.” He’d waited until this precise moment to slide in that smooth suggestion. “I can arrange for a purchaser and Miss Forrester will have the funds immediately.”

The woman’s darkening frown indicated she was well aware of the income the brothel provided. Such establishments were usually lucrative, and with the elite clientele Maddy had fostered, the House of Pleasure must comprise a hefty percentage of Fitch’s wherewithal.

Suddenly, Lady Fitch sat back, a small smile on her lips. “And what if ten thousand pounds is my price for my silence about Miss Forrester’s secret identity? Wouldn’t it be worth it to her to know Society would never discover that she and Amorina Vestry are one and the same?”

Duncan narrowed his eyes and gripped the papers still clutched in his hand. The damn woman was as loathsome as her husband had been. Fortunately, he’d come prepared for every contingency. “I would think twice about making that threat, my lady. Because it cuts both ways, don’t you see? How could you have come by this piece of knowledge unless you were intimately involved in the woman’s fate seven years ago?” Crossing his arms, Duncan leaned back and stared her down. “Your husband’s reputation is such that no one will disbelieve that he was the owner of a brothel. I could not discover who the owner was two years ago when I was accused of having an interest in the place. Therefore, rather than face the censure of Society for a deed I did not commit, I fled to Italy. Now that I have ferreted the matter out, no one would think it wrong of me to release the information that would expunge the shame of that association from my family’s escutcheon. So I assure you, I will have no compunctions about revealing the true owner’s name and the fact that his wife, who now owns the brothel, turned down a chance to get rid of it and thus remove the stain her husband had made upon his family name.”