Chapter Nine
Midmorning was Felicity’s favorite time in the club. All was quiet, except for the chatter of the servants working. Felicity made her way to Lucia’s room to check on her ear. She knocked softly on the door and after a moment Lucia opened it a crack, rubbing her eyes.
“What time is it?” Lucia asked.
“Just after eleven,” Felicity said. “I wanted to check on your ear, if that is all right?”
Lucia yawned and opened the door. “Come in.”
“You didn’t work last night?”
“No. I can’t make my hair do anything with this shorn side. My ear makes me look like a leper.”
“I assure you it doesn’t. What will you do with your hair?”
“Trina said I should cut it all off, but I can’t bear the thought. I might take to wearing a bonnet from now on.”
Felicity smiled. “You’re so beautiful I don’t think the men will care about your hair or your ear.”
Lucia waved away her compliment. “I care. I have to look at myself every day.” She pouted. “I suppose I could go home for a month. My mother and sister haven’t been to town to see me in a while.”
Felicity set down her pot of salve and turned to Lucia. “You have a mother and sister?” She hated to admit she was surprised to hear it.
“In Hampshire. My sister is about to have her third baby.”
Felicity stared at her in wonder.
Lucia turned to face her and laughed. “I bet you assumed because I trade my body for money that my family would disown me?”
Felicity bit her lip in shame. “Well, to be honest, yes. I’m sorry I assumed something so wretched. It’s my own twisted upbringing that still shapes most of my thoughts, and I must remember that I’m wrong about everything, usually.”
“Where is your family?”
“Still at home in our little village that didn’t seem to come out of the dark ages.”
Lucia strolled toward her vanity and sat. “Do they speak to you?”
“No. They don’t know where I am.”
“Because of what happened? They took his side, didn’t they?”
Felicity blushed and turned away.
“They always do,” Lucia said vehemently.
“Fathers, at least. Mothers always know the truth. I never knew my father. My mother also made coin on her back but not in a safe place like this. Once I started making real money here, I made her retire. My sister married a farmer. It’s a small farm, but they have enough to eat and enough coin to stay warm.
It’s the best we could ever hope for. She’s not like me and mum.
Elena is shy. But her husband makes her happy and they make beautiful babies. ”
“I have two younger sisters. Fifteen and twelve. I hope I will see them again.”
“You know, there has been talk.” Lucia moved her hair aside and Felicity examined her ear.
“Talk about me?”
“You’re a bride, aren’t you? Mrs. Dove-Lyon will match you with one of her lords. Who’s your soon to be husband?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“You get to decide?” Lucia whistled.
“I was matched once already. After that didn’t work out, I told her I wanted to choose.”
Lucia tilted her head while Felicity dabbed on the salve.
“Does it hurt?” Felicity asked, her stomach pulsing with nervousness.
“No.”
“Your ear will likely scab and then peel. Perhaps you should go visit with your family after all.”
Lucia smiled. “I’ll miss the lusty lads, but I think you’re right.”
Felicity turned away as she screwed on the top of her salve jar. “Does it hurt?”
Lucia stood. “No, love. I promise it doesn’t, even though it looks terrible.”
Felicity turned to face her. “It. Laying with a man. When he pushes his cock inside of you.” Felicity blurted. Lucia’s mouth popped open. She’d managed to shock a courtesan. Felicity turned way. “Never mind, that was terribly rude of me.”
Lucia grabbed her hand. “Dove, I was only shocked and delighted to hear the word cock come out of your mouth. Are you scared?”
Tears stung her eyes, but Felicity ignored them and fought to control her emotions.
It was one thing to have Tristan explain the particulars to her, but it was another to hear it from a woman who did it professionally.
She’d tried touching herself alone in bed last night but even though it did feel nice, she didn’t find that rapture he’d talked about.
“I was attacked by my fiancé,” Felicity said.
“I gathered something like that.”
“It hurt. Like I was being stabbed, though I’ve never been stabbed before either.”
“Because you were, little dove. But when you want to be with a man, it isn’t like that at all.
When he knows how to use his tool, it’s a grand time and your body will drip with desire.
I mean that literally, dear. We make our own lubrication, and that is what makes the slide of a cock inside you feel like heaven.
You’ll want to beg him to fill the emptiness inside you—emptiness being the channel between your legs. ”
“The vagina,” Felicity stated, her cheeks flaming from Lucia’s bold talk. Why had she never thought to ask the ladies for help before? Oh yes—embarrassment.
“I know, but that word doesn’t excite me, and sex should always be exciting. I can hardly believe I get paid to have men pleasure me—and they do. I settle for nothing less. Sometimes there is a bit of education involved, but my students learn quick.”
Felicity blinked in shock. “You teach them?”
“Aye. Most men perform as if a woman only exists to lay there quietly. I pity their wives, honestly. But after a night with me, I send them home with new tricks. I like to think their wives should send me flowers or something.”
Felicity giggled awkwardly. “What if they are not good learners?” Or monsters like Chadwick.
“Then I ring for assistance and tell them to take their soggy cocks back to the sheep farm.”
Felicity gasped and covered her mouth.
Lucia laughed. “I knew that would shock you.”
Felicity smiled, feeling a bit better about her fears. “Here.” She handed the pot to Lucia. “Apply it every morning and night while you visit with your family. Apply more frequently if it starts to itch.”
“Thanks, dove. Don’t marry Sir Elliot or Mr. Wickstone. Sir Elliot recites Shakespeare when he finishes, and Mr. Wickstone smells like cheese. All the time. I make him bathe and douse him in my perfume, but it hardly helps. I only tolerate him because he eats me like he’s starving.”
Felicity blushed. She didn’t understand most of that. “Thank you for your insight.”
Lucia winked. “You should go around and ask the girls who you should marry.”
Felicity left Lucia’s room and considered her advice.
Most of the women who had worked last night would be sleeping.
But Felicity wasn’t sure she could handle more advice this morning anyway.
She already had enough to think about, and tonight she would return to the gaming floor and pursue a husband.
Before, the concept had been intimidating, but now she couldn’t muster enthusiasm either.
What was she going to do if she couldn’t find a suitable man?
Maybe she should have the upstairs ladies choose for her.
As she reached the ladies gaming floor on her way back to her room, Milly appeared.
“There you are. Mrs. Dove-Lyon is looking for you.”
“Oh? Is she in her parlor?”
“Yes, with Mr. Chase.”
Felicity’s stomach sank. She knew. She must somehow know that they’d spent time in her room doing wicked things and now she was in trouble.
Would she throw her out? Felicity squeezed her fists in panic as she kept her head down and made her way to the parlor.
She knocked once on the door, and it opened.
Tristan was there, looking calm and rather handsome in a blue coat instead of black. His eyes were brighter.
He gave her a crooked smile. “Are you going to stand there or come in?”
Felicity shook her head at him. Didn’t he know they were in trouble? Flustered, Felicity took a chair across from where Mrs. Dove Lyon sat on the settee, directly in the center like it was her throne.
“Good morning, Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”
“Miss Brandon, I heard you were tending to Lucia. Is her ear healing well?”
“Yes, but it will take time to heal fully, and then there is her hair . . .”
“Hm, yes. Vanity, thy name is Lucia.”
Tristan took the other chair. Neither of them seemed particularly unsettled, so Felicity tried to calm down. This had to be something else and not about their tryst last night.
“I’d like to review some of the men you’ve met. Mr. Chase is here to advise you on your selections.”
Felicity wanted to sink into her chair. “Oh. Well. I won’t consider Sir Elliot or Mr. Wickstone.”
“Why is that?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked.
“Lucia advised me not to.”
Tristan coughed and set down his cup of tea.
“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said, amusement thick in her voice. “Do I want to know why?”
“No,” Felicity rushed to say.
“I do,” Tristan said.
“If you don’t already know, perhaps your methods of inquiry need adjustment,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon returned toward him.
“I don’t think I want to use Lucia’s methods of interrogation,” he quipped.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon chuckled. “I suppose not.”
Felicity bit her lip in embarrassment. “Well, other than those two, I can’t recall any man standing out above the others.”
“You must get closer to them. You drift about but there is no conversation happening. Perhaps some of these gentlemen would be amenable to a private dinner with you. They could be invited to play for the chance, or we could have a lottery. But of course, the only winners would be men you are interested in.”
That was the problem. Felicity wasn’t interested in any man, except the one sitting next to her. The one bachelor she couldn’t have.
“Or I can arrange a private game. Something intimate if you can provide a few names. You’ll play the game as well.”
“I don’t know how to play any of these games.”
“You can learn. You don’t need to win, Miss Brandon, you just need to pay attention to their words and actions. In fact, having them teach you to play could be quite revealing of their character.”
“Very well. If you think so,” Felicity said. She hoped her disinterest wasn’t noticeable.