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The Lyon and the Maiden Mistress

Page 8

by Aviva Orr

Chapter Six

Bessie Dove-Lyon eyed the young woman sitting in front of her and wondered if she had created a problem for herself. Perhaps she should not have arranged a hackney home for Miss Wentworth the prior evening. The lady had clearly mistaken her action for kindness when, in fact, she’d merely been trying to solve a potential problem. When she’d had Lord Tidworth escorted from the Lyon’s Den, he’d refused to take his mistress with him, and she then had no safe passage home. Bessie didn’t like complications lingering in her club, so getting them all out seemed the best idea at the time. She had not expected Miss Wentworth to resurface the following day, looking as if she’d slept in her evening gown.

“I didn’t know where else to turn,” Miss Wentworth said. “This is the only place Lord Tidworth won’t look for me, since he has been banished.”

“So you have come here looking for…what, exactly?” Bessie asked. She was sure the young lady wasn’t so naive as to think she could arrange a marriage for her. The men at her club were always aware that marriage was a potential risk, but they certainly wouldn’t take that risk if they thought they might end up married to a penniless country girl who’d been a mistress to one of their peers.

“I thought perhaps you might wish to employ me. I noticed that many women work here at your club, and I am most accomplished. During my time in London, I have learned how to read, how to speak French, and how to play the pianoforte.”

“I already have a governess to guide my staff, Miss Wentworth, and do not need another.”

“I am capable of hard work, too. I spent most of my life scrubbing floors, carrying buckets of water, and…”

Bessie held up her hand to stop Miss Wentworth from going on. “But you have spent the past five years living like a lady. It is not so easy to return to a life of drudgery.”

Miss Wentworth’s shoulders sagged. “There must be something…I simply don’t know what else to do.”

She was, Bessie observed, not for the first time, a handsome young lady. Particularly striking were her wide green eyes, which paired well with her chestnut hair and pale skin. Her physique was admirable too, slim in the waist and with ample breasts. She could be useful upstairs. “There is something,” she said.

“Oh.” Miss Wentworth’s face brightened.

“Your time as a mistress will be far more useful to me than your other accomplishments. Men like to be entertained by women who are experienced in certain ways.”

Pink spread across Miss Wentworth’s cheeks. “You…you wish to employ me as a harlot?”

“I don’t refer to my women as ‘harlots.’ They are com­pan­ions…Enter­tainers, if you will.”

“Never!” She stood up. “I see I made a mistake coming here.”

“You were a mistress for five years, were you not? How is this different?”

“I thought Tobias loved me! He swore that he wanted nothing more than to marry me, but of course he could not because of his mad wife. I watched how she tormented him daily, and I could not help but pity him. Then I fell in love with him. I gave myself to him and only him, as though I were his wife, unaware that everything he’d told me was a lie. Does that make me a harlot?”

Bessie sighed. She felt some sympathy for the young lady who’d been badly used by Lord Tidworth. Not only was she beautiful, but she had poise and courage. Clearly, Lord Tidworth had trained his young country girl well. But men grew tired of their toys. And now this young lady must be made to face her naiveté. “Miss Wentworth, a lady of the highest order can be rendered a harlot in society’s eyes merely for spending a few minutes alone in the company of a gentleman.”

“Then I must prove society wrong!”

She liked Maggie’s determination and spirit. Thinking about what had taken place at her club last night, she had seen some vile behavior during her time, but Lord Tidworth’s conduct had been particularly odious. He’d clearly set out to humiliate his mistress. He’d been cruel and had it not been for Lord Cadwell…

Bessie straightened. Lord Cadwell! There’s the answer. Miss Wentworth need not search for her knight in shining armor. She already has one. Who better than a nobleman who scorns society and does all he can to detach himself from the ton? A man who despises his own bloodline because it’s noble. It’s a lofty idea but…Bessie’s gaze fell on the sparkling amethyst earrings in Miss Wentworth’s ears. She’d been eyeing them since Miss Wentworth walked into her study. Such jewels, if real, were worth a good fortune.

“Do you have any children, Miss Wentworth?” she asked.

The young lady shook her head. “No, though I have experience helping to rear my brothers and sisters.”

“No children, after five years with Lord Tidworth? That’s most unusual for a young woman. Are you perhaps barren?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said. “Lord Tidworth never lay with me.”

Momentarily stunned, Bessie froze. “Never lay with his mistress? What on earth did he keep you for? To look at?”

Miss Wentworth dropped her gaze, and when she looked up, her cheeks were flushed. “Yes. He liked to look at me and touch me. But not in the way necessary for getting a woman with child.” The flush in her cheeks deepened. “I’m a country girl, and I have seen much mating among sheep. I know what’s required for…” She cleared her throat. “I questioned him about it because I wanted to have his children. I loved him at the time. But…” She dropped her gaze again. “He would get very cross whenever I pressed him about it. He’d say he already had a wife and didn’t want illegitimate children. Although I have since discovered that was a lie too. Whenever I talked to him about having something…more between us, he’d tell me I was unchaste and filthy minded. He said I made him sick when I talked like that. But I only spoke out of love.”

Bessie listened with fascination. Tidworth was likely impotent and had lashed out at his mistress from embarrassment when she’d queried him about refusing to lie with her.

This was an interesting situation indeed. Here sat before her a mistress, who was still a maiden—at least technically. She may not be chaste in society’s eyes, but she was intact. Bessie folded her hands together. Perhaps there was something she could do for this young lady after all. “Do you know what I do here, Miss Wentworth?” she asked.

Miss Wentworth shifted in her seat. “You run a gambling den, and I think I heard talk that you are a matchmaker of sorts.”