Lori Brighton - [The Seduction 02] (2 page)

“Amazing,” she whispered.

Mr. Smith lifted a golden brow. “Amazing is not exactly what I had in mind. Sordid. Disgusting. Pathetic?”

She laughed. He was so utterly ridiculous, she couldn’t help herself. “Amazing. Amazing that a woman would have the determination and bravery. Amazing that no one suspects—”

“Oh they know.” He led her up the shallow steps toward the massive oaken doors. “But what can they possibly do?”

Lavender was planted around the estate and grew in the fields surrounding the home, splashing the scenery with the royal hue. Even her skirts brushed the plants, sending the heady scent into the air. She feared she’d have to burn her gown in order to be rid of the smell.

“They choose to ignore the fact that their mothers, their wives, their daughters, visit the woman regularly. Could you imagine if the clientele list became public? All of England would be destroyed. Hell, there are even rumors that women of the royal family have visited.”

“And so they pretend like it doesn’t exist.” She sighed. The world ignored a lot of things; it shouldn’t have surprised her. Elizabeth theatrically pressed her hand to her chest. “Because women are supposed to be moral. Better than men. The way to heaven is through our pure hearts.”

“Tis nothing to mock, you know. My own mother, God rest her soul, was the epitome of an angel on earth.” They paused outside the massive doors. A yellow butterfly floated before them, landing on a potted lavender. “That is, when she wasn’t drowning in drink or tupping the minister of our small parish, apparently her way of getting closer to God.”

“Cease.” Elizabeth grinned. “We must be on our utmost best behavior.”

He pulled the bell cord. “Of course, because best behavior is what one expects in a brothel.”

Elizabeth didn’t have time to reply to his sarcastic comment. Almost immediately the doors pulled inward. But the man who
stood there was not your typical austere butler. This man was a mountain. A giant from a fairy tale, the kind of being that could crush a mere mortal with his fist. Elizabeth stiffened, the situation becoming entirely too real.

“We have an appointment with Lady Lavender,” Mr. Smith said, his tone even and commanding, although he had to tilt his head to look up at the man before them.

The man’s grunt of response combined with the seriousness of the situation gave her the sudden urge to giggle. As if sensing the way of her thoughts, Mr. Smith sent her a warning glance, much like a parent reprimanding a child. She bit her lower lip to keep from smiling and focused on the elegant foyer behind Mr. Mountain. Marble flooring, a wide staircase that curved up to a second and even a third floor. The place reeked of money and social standing, and Elizabeth supposed the woman did have social standing, in a perverted way.

Mr. Mountain stepped aside, allowing them entrance. Mr. Smith wasted no time and led her into the cool foyer. Impressive enough, there were even gaslit sconces flickering along the walls. The infamous Lady Lavender had money. Lots.

But underneath the wealthy veneer, something more sinister lurked. She narrowed her eyes, studying the place. Yes, indeed, there it was. She shifted, ever so slightly getting a better peek. Statues half-hidden of naked men and women clasping each other behind potted palms. She blushed, averting her gaze, only to notice a painting on the wall of a couple caressing, sans clothing.

Get ahold, Elizabeth,
she said to herself. She’d certainly seen worse things growing up in London. Her inspection was interrupted when Mr. Mountain spoke. “This way.”

They didn’t have to travel far. Just as they reached a nearby door, it opened. Elizabeth certainly hadn’t been expecting the petite woman who stood before them. She looked like a princess from King Arthur’s court, not a brothel owner.

“Good afternoon.” Her elegant voice held the slightest French accent.

She wore a rich plum-colored gown of silk. The highest of fashion, the bell skirt touched either side of the doorframe, making her hips appear enormous and her waist tiny. Her hands were folded demurely at her midsection. Her pale blonde hair was pulled back into a twisted braid that allowed a few dashing curls to hang over her right shoulder. She was a goddess. Elizabeth could still remember a porcelain doll she’d seen in a shop window in Paris that looked very much like this woman. Cold, unreal.

The beautiful woman smiled, a smile that lacked in warmth but made up for it with shrewdness. This was a woman who was not to be easily trifled with. The infamous Lady Lavender.

“Tea, Mr. Wavers,” Lady Lavender said to the mountain.

He nodded and left silently, which was rather impressive for a man of his bulk.

“Won’t you come in?”

Elizabeth gave the woman a polite smile as she stepped into the office, Mr. Smith following. A veritable rainbow of blue and violet assaulted the senses. She was painfully aware of their hostess closing the door to give them much-needed privacy, but she couldn’t tear her attention away from the lavender monstrosity. Could the woman truly love the color so very much that she could decorate her entire office in the shade? Or was it all an act, a ruse, in order to portray a certain mystique?

The dark blue velvet curtains were thrown wide, the windows open to allow a soft spring breeze to waft through the room. Lovely, if everything hadn’t smelled overwhelmingly of lavender. Where was Mr. Smith’s sandalwood handkerchief when she needed it? Hell, she’d take the scent of rotting rabbit over this. Nothing could have prepared her for this.

Elizabeth moved forward on wooden legs, her booted feet sinking soundlessly into the Aubusson rug in a, yes…lavender pattern. The crystal chandelier above sparkled, not a speck of dust
marring its brilliance. The marble fireplace and elegant French furniture bespoke wealth. The cleanliness and orderliness of the home bespoke a woman who liked control. Elizabeth took it all in with a critical eye. She fought the desire to lift her netting and get a better look. Impressive, indeed. She could learn a thing or two about how to control a household from this Lady Lavender.

The woman waved toward the middle of the room. “Do sit, please.”

Elizabeth settled primly onto one of two wing back chairs, as Mr. Smith moved into position near the fireplace like he was a bloody servant, which was ridiculous. Even after Mr. Ashton’s death, he’d insisted they keep up appearances. They were not friends; he worked for her, or so he repeatedly reminded her. She would much prefer to have him at her side at the moment.

Lady Lavender settled behind a massive masculine desk, the only thing that wasn’t elegant in the room. She looked more like a fairy holding court in some magical castle than a brothel owner. Was it pure greed that had forced Lady Lavender into ruination? Or had she sold her soul for the fun of it? She supposed she would never know, but still her curiosity was strong and allowed her to think of something other than her impending doom.

“How can I be of assistance?”

The time had come. Elizabeth cleared her throat, keeping her voice steady. “I need someone to keep me company in the country for a fortnight.”

The woman lifted a perfectly plucked golden brow. “A fortnight? That will be costly.”

Elizabeth kept her face smooth, showing no emotion. Money did not matter, at least not anymore. “Of course. Money is no problem.”

Although a mere five years ago it would have been, and she couldn’t seem to forget the poverty she had been born into. Even now she felt the urge to cringe, although she could afford to buy all of London. Perhaps not all…but at least half.

Lady Lavender nodded. Elizabeth noticed the shift in her gaze. Just a shrewd flash of interest, gone before anyone else would have seen it, but the look had been there all the same. A business-woman at heart.

Lady Lavender had believed her story, and she was ready to discuss. “Your likes, dislikes?”

“Well…” Elizabeth tried her hardest to keep from blushing. It was bad enough attempting to buy a whore, but with Mr. Smith watching, listening, it was beyond humiliating. How he would torment her later.

She smoothed her hands over the wooden arms of her chair, needing to do something with her hands. “My late husband was old.
Very
aged. I’d like someone virile. Large. With a dangerous air about him. Someone who might…take control.”

Had she described him well enough? She curled her fingers, her nails biting through her gloves and into her sensitive palms as she resisted the urge to glance back at Mr. Smith for his nod of approval.

“I see.” Lady Lavender pulled open a small drawer and took out a journal of some sort. “Details?”

It took her a moment to realize the woman actually wanted to know the specifics of what interested her. Lord, it was like they were buying cattle.

“Dark hair.” Elizabeth shrugged, attempting to feign an air of indifference. “Blue eyes?” She tapped her finger to the corner of her mouth and studied the silver and lavender flowers painted to the walls. “No, silver? Yes, gray eyes, if you have such a man.”

She could practically see the woman’s mind spinning as she flipped through her journal, apparently in search of the perfect mate. Well, she certainly took her business seriously. Elizabeth began to relax. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

“Will it be the both of you?”

“Hmm?” Elizabeth frowned, confused.

Lady Lavender glanced pointedly at Mr. Smith.

“Oh,” Elizabeth squeaked, the heat she’d been trying to keep at bay shooting to her cheeks. She’d heard that some men preferred more than one partner, but
really
. “No! No, merely myself.”

She realized her mistake when Lady Lavender didn’t even bother to hide her smirk of amusement. So much for seeming worldly. Yes, she might as well have painted “innocent” across her chest.

“Of course.” Lady Lavender tucked her journal away. What Elizabeth wouldn’t give to know the secrets of that that wicked book. “And do you wish to view the specimens today?”

Specimens? As if they were the insects she’d seen pinned to the wall at a natural science museum Mr. Ashton had forced her to attend only two years ago. “Yes, please.”

Yes, please?
Oh dear, this was not going the way she’d planned. She acted like a child begging for gingerbread.

Lady Lavender merely stood. “I shall return with some prospects.”

She tried to look appreciative. “Wonderful.”

She waited until the woman swept from the room. Waited until the door closed and the murmured conversation in the hall ceased. Waited until she could no longer hear the rustle of her gown. Then, only then, did she spin around to face Mr. Smith. “Don’t you dare laugh!”

“What?” Mr. Smith was all wide-eyed innocence, but she could see the ghost of a smile upon his lips, just waiting to be released.

Elizabeth turned back around in a huff and slumped into the chair, the last four years of training gone. She was like a virginal debutante. Or…a country milkmaid with no breeding.

“This is wretched, utterly, utterly wretched.” Unable to sit still, she surged to her feet and began to pace the room, past the walnut sideboard, toward the marble fireplace over which a large golden-framed mirror hung, and finally to the windows. “How shall I stand there and look these men over as if they are cattle?”

Mr. Smith drummed his fingers against the mantel. “What happened to the fairness of it all? Women getting their jollies and all that?”

She narrowed her eyes and frowned. “Oh, do shut up.”

This time he did laugh, a rich chuckle that made her smile in kind. It was impossible to be angry at Mr. Smith. She brushed aside a heavy curtain and studied the scenery. A stone wall ran around the estate, and beyond…rolling fields of lavender. “However shall I keep a straight face when she returns?”

“Once you meet him, you’ll have no problem being somber.”

Elizabeth released a puff of air that set the netting over her face billowing. “Is he that wretched?”

Mr. Smith frowned. He’d made his thoughts perfectly clear. He believed she was ridiculous, but he would keep silent, for he knew how very stubborn she could be, and once she made up her mind, she would see it through. “I only saw him once, but he looks the very devil himself. You’ll recognize him by those cold, gray eyes.”

She nodded and started back for her chair. It was all she could do not to burst from the room, apologize for her mistake, and rush back to the carriage. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t betray Mr. Ashton. She’d come this far, after all.

She jumped when the door opened. Lady Lavender swept into the room, three men trailing behind her like the little lapdogs her mother-in-law was so fond of. Although, she must admit, these men looked and smelled much, much better.

All were lovely. All were finely dressed in suits that fit their muscled bodies to perfection. Their dark hair was combed neatly, their smiles pleasant and demure. They paused in front of her, standing with military precision. She realized, quite suddenly, that it was too late to back out now. Overwhelmed by the sudden abundance of masculine finery, Elizabeth had to resist the urge to shrink back against the chair. Although she was supposed to be the one in charge, she felt like a fox surrounded by hunting mutts.

“Here we are,” the woman said airily, as if selling men for sexual favors was quite common. “If you’d like, I can give you a moment of privacy so you can sample the specimens.”

Elizabeth had to clench her teeth to keep her mouth from falling open. Good lord, sample them
how
, exactly? “Uh, no. No need.”

She felt as if she’d entered another world. Some strange country where she didn’t quite understand the customs or language. Never mind. She was here, and she had a job to do. Elizabeth straightened and forced herself to look them over with a critical eye. As her startled heart resumed its normal pace and her rational mind took over, she realized that yes, they were all lovely, but none had gray eyes. She slid a helpless glance toward Mr. Smith. He didn’t dare say a word, but the slight shake of his head told her what she needed to know.

“I’m sorry, they won’t do.”

They remained embarrassingly mute.