Thirteen #2
“I’m not so much older than you,” Georgette said. At twenty-three she would have been considered “on the shelf,” if not for the Duke of Cambridge’s interest in her. “I’m not trying to change you if you are content with your lot. But I know what it is to make choices one later regrets.”
She still wasn’t sure which she regretted more—the time she spent dallying with Nathaniel in the ballroom or the fact that she’d cut it short. But she did feel regret.
Every waking hour. And in a few of her dreaming ones as well.
“If you would like the chance to make different choices,” Georgette said, “I believe I can help.”
“How?”
Even though Georgette really didn’t need two maids, she’d intended on offering Vesta a position. She’d hoped the girl had a gift for styling hair, but Vesta’s own straggly tresses were no recommendation. “Well—”
“Whatever you have in mind, unless you can spare ten quid and sixpence, duchess, you’re no use to me.”
Georgette didn’t carry that kind of money with her.
All the merchants her family traded with dealt on credit.
Besides, that sum was more than Mercy earned in a year.
Of course, her maid also received room, board, and her pick from Georgette’s cast off clothing.
She could even sell what she didn’t want on the secondhand market, so Mercy’s true income was higher if one considered more than just her salary.
“I haven’t much money with me,” Georgette admitted, wondering how she’d finagle that sum in ready cash from her father.
When she roamed about London, she made sure Mercy had only enough to cover small incidental purchases and her maid doled out the needed coin. Georgette never actually handled money herself and wouldn’t dream of carrying any on her person.
Certainly not enough to exceed a year’s wages for a semi-trained, slightly insubordinate domestic servant.
“Is ten pounds six what you owe the madam?” Nathaniel’s rich bass came from the open doorway.
Georgette whirled to face him.
“What are you doing here?” He’d obviously followed her. She wasn’t sure whether to be incensed or relieved.
“Same as you. Trying to help.”
Vesta’s gaze turned immediately to Nate and she let her wrapper gape a bit to display more of her ample bosom. “Maybe you’d like a little help from me right back, eh, guv? I can be oh so helpful when a bloke’s as fine as you.”
“A charming offer, but not necessary, thank you.” He kept his gaze riveted on the whore’s face. “I repeat. Will ten quid and sixpence square you with the madam?”
Vesta nodded brusquely, cinching her wrapper closed.
“How did ye ever get so far into dun territory, Vesta?” Mercy placed a hand on her friend’s slim forearm. “I never owed more than two pounds in all my living life. And it was hard enough to scrape together that much to repay.”
“I can’t help it if I like fine things.” Vesta rose and paced around the room, positioning herself so the bed separated her from the rest of them. “Madam always said I’d get better clients if I had better dresses. Silk don’t come cheap, you know. Then there’s the interest. And my meals.”
“Madam Bouchard didn’t charge for food when I was here,” Mercy said.
“She does now,” Vesta said. “And if I want clean sheets once a week, I have to pay the laundress, don’t I? All told, I owe about two shillings more each week.”
It didn’t take an abacus to figure that Vesta was as good as a slave to her employer. She’d never work off the debt on her own. The burden would simply accumulate. Once she was too old for whoring, she’d be turned out or maybe turned over to the magistrate and sent to debtor’s prison.
“If your debt was paid, what would you do? Where would you go?” Nathaniel asked.
Vesta shrugged.
“Surely you have family,” Georgette suggested.
Vesta’s laugh was brittle. “None that’d be glad to see me.”
“Have you any marketable skills?” Georgette asked.
“Plenty of ’em.” Vesta’s smile turned lascivious and she flicked her gaze at Nathaniel. “I’d give him a sample, but Madam don’t allow no free tosses.”
For once, Georgette found herself in complete agreement with the madam.
“What did you have in mind, guv? Are you looking to set up a ladybird of your own? It’d be no hardship tending to the needs of the likes of you.” Vesta slinked across the room toward Nathaniel, earthy sensuality oozing from every pore. “Your friends, too, if you’re the generous sort.”
She lifted a perfectly arched brow at him. “We could have ourselves a time.”
“No doubt,” Nathaniel said. “But that’s not my intent.
Sadie’s House of Sirens just across the lane recently came into my possession.
The madam there has been evicted and the debts her girls owed have been repaid.
I gave them the same choice I now offer you.
I’ll square your debt. Go, if you wish. Stay, if you wish.
But if you choose to stay at the House of Sirens, you must not sell yourself again.
You must remain sober and you will apply yourself to learning a trade so that you will be self-supporting within six months. ”
“You mean there’s a room for me at the Sirens?” Vesta cocked her head at him. “And I don’t have to lift my skirts to keep it?”
Nathaniel nodded. “A few of the girls were from the country and have decided to take their chances and go home. There are three open rooms. One is yours, if you want it. Under my terms, of course.”
Vesta narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What are you, some kind of saint?”
“Hardly.” The word slipped out Georgette’s mouth before she could stop it.
Nathaniel splayed his fingers across his chest as if she’d pierced him with an invisible arrow. “You cut me to the quick, Lady Georgette.”
“No one asked you to get involved,” she said, turning toward him tight-lipped.
Nathaniel Colton didn’t have an altruistic bone in his body. There was something else behind this sudden spurt of goodness. And she doubted that ulterior motive was good in the least.
Nate started toward her. “Contrary to what you might believe, you are not the only one in this room capable of compassion.”
“Yeah, yeah, the two of you can go at it hammer and tongs later.” Vesta placed herself firmly between them. “What about me? Don’t you think it likely Madam Bouchard will send Mr. Duggins after me once the pair of you do-gooders flit back to whatever cloud you dropped down from?”
“That’s why I hired Mr. Bagley to act as guard for the residents across the way,” Nathaniel said, casting Georgette a smug grin over Vesta’s shoulder. “He’s a former pugilist and is easily a match for Mr. Duggins in height and girth.”
“What about the fact that Vesta must learn a trade?” Georgette asked, wishing she could persuade this Mr. Bagley to smack that grin off Nate’s face. “I doubt your pugilist will be much use if Vesta wants to pursue the craft of millinery or flower arranging.”
“That’s why I’ve also engaged Mrs. Throckmorten.
” Nathaniel waved Vesta out of his way with every courtesy so he could plant himself firmly in front of Georgette.
“She’s a former headmistress at a ladies’ academy with ties to several merchants all along Bond Street.
She’ll evaluate Vesta’s skills and set her up with an apprenticeship or find her a suitable position in domestic service. ”
Georgette crossed her arms over her chest. “So it doesn’t bother you to think of Vesta emptying someone’s chamber pot so long as it’s your idea.”
“No.” He raised a finger in reproof. “Only so long as it’s her idea.”
“Seems you’ve thought of everything,” Georgette said grudgingly. An academy of sorts for soiled doves was nothing short of brilliant.
He gave her a mocking bow. “One does one’s best.”
“Oh, why don’t the pair of you just shag each other and get it over with?” Vesta said. “We’re supposed to be talking about me, you know.”
“So we were. My apologies, Vesta,” Nate said. “And I will take your shagging suggestion under advisement.”
Georgette’s cheeks heated, but there was nothing to be gained by protesting that she wouldn’t dream of letting Nathaniel “shag” her.
Besides, she was afraid she just might.
“What have you decided?” Nathaniel asked Vesta.
“If you square me with Madam, I’ll take that room.” Her expression softened. “Thank you.” Her gaze flicked to Georgette for a moment. “You too, milady.”
Mercy hugged her friend. “You won’t regret it, honest you won’t.”
“I regret it already.” Vesta fingered one of her silk gowns in the open wardrobe. “Don’t imagine a lady’s maid has any call to wear something as grand as this.”
“Sure I do. There’s a Ladies’ Maids’ Ball coming up and I plan to deck myself out like a duchess.
No offence, milady, ye bein’ only a marquis’s daughter and all.
” Mercy cast a lopsided grin at Georgette in apology and turned back to her friend.
“Besides, ye might decide to do something different than me. Something ye haven’t even dreamed before.
Trust me, Vesta. Life is ever so much sweeter when ye get to do the deciding for yerself. ”
“We should leave you two to do some packing.” Nathaniel turned and offered Georgette his arm. “My lady, would you care to accompany me while I do business with Madam Bouchard?”
She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. Once they cleared the doorway, she hissed, “Where did you get so much money that you can run around Covent Garden clearing the debts of fallen women?”
“I won more than the deed to the House of Sirens in that poque game. If I didn’t spend it on this, I’d just waste it paying off my tailor.” He covered her hand with his. “Mercy’s right, you know.”
“In what way?”
“Life is sweeter when you do the deciding for yourself. When are you going to give that a try?”