An Introduction to Pleasure (6 page)

Lysandra shook away the thoughts and focused on her mother again. “I’m sorry, Mama. I was just thinking of a duty I must perform. I wasn’t certain I could do it, but now I have realized that I must and I will, no matter what.”

Her mother smiled. “You’ve always been so determined, my dear. I’ve admired that about you. When your father died, I seemed to have lost my strength, but you found yours.”

Lysandra blinked at the tears she could usually control. Found her strength? Dear God, she hadn’t felt that way over the last eight hellish years. She had never felt weaker.

The door behind them opened and both women turned. Her cousin August stood framed in the doorway, his face red and angry, as usual. Lysandra stood, but from the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her mother and the expression on her face was one of fear.

“I was told you were here,” her cousin grunted. “I want to talk to you. Come with me.”

Lysandra sighed. So much for a visit with her mother. “Let me say goodbye and I’ll join you, of course.”

He waved at her dismissively and stepped into the hallway to wait, though he left the door open and stole any privacy she might have had for her farewell.

“Mama,” she said softly. “I will do anything I can to…to make this better for you.”

Her mother’s expression darkened, and she lowered her chin in something so close to defeat that it broke Lysandra’s heart.

“It isn’t so bad,” her mother whispered. “I don’t want you to worry yourself.”

“But I do.” Lysandra pulled her close for a hug and was once again struck by how thin and frail her mother had become. “And I always will. Go upstairs and rest. I’ll call on you again when I can.”

Her mother nodded, and Lysandra squeezed her hand one last time before she moved into the hallway where her cousin was waiting. He motioned her to follow him and went to his office a few doors down.

He did not offer Lysandra a seat nor tea as he glared at her across his big oak desk.

“You know, when we took your mother in, we did not realize what a burden we had taken on,” he began with no preamble. “Nor that her presence would last so long.”

Lysandra wrinkled her brow. “What do you mean, August? You knew full-well that I had taken a job as a servant and I wouldn’t be able to offer her a home myself. How could you not know that she would be here for more than half a year?”

“We thought she would likely die,” her cousin said, cold as ice.

Lysandra sank into the seat he hadn’t offered and stared at him in a mixture of horror and anger. “How could you say that?” she managed to ask after a long pause to find her voice.

Her cousin shrugged. “She is frail and clearly unwell.”

Lysandra bit back all the things she wanted to say as she thought of the bruise on her mother’s arm and the fear in her eyes. She could do nothing at this point to bring her mother to a safer place, so all she could do was not make this place even worse.

“I pay you, don’t I? Every month, without fail. That money is to cover your expenses and to ensure she is
safe
.” Lysandra emphasized the last word so that her cousin would understand she felt her mother might not be safe in this house anymore.

He smirked in response. “What do you give me, a few pounds for all our care and trouble? That was actually why I wished to speak to you today, Lysandra. I believe you and your mother are taking advantage of my family’s kindness.”

Lysandra’s thoughts kept returning to those finger-shaped bruises on her mother’s arm as she stared at her cousin in silence.

He didn’t seem to care about her lack of response and continued, “And her staying here has become a financial burden to us.”

Lysandra fought to keep her voice calm. “What are you saying?”

“We need more money in order to continue to take care of her,” he said, blunt and sharp.

“How much?” she whispered.

He folded his arms and smiled. In that moment, Lysandra realized he was
enjoying
this exchange. “Double what you pay at present.”

Lysandra lowered her head. All her money was tied up between her own meager expenses and paying what she already sent for her mother’s care.

Only when she moved to Andrew’s home, she would not have her boarding to worry about. That wouldn’t cover double the price she paid for her mother’s care now, but it would be close.

“Now we can work this out in several ways,” her cousin said as he leaned closer. “For example, in trade. You’ve always had a few things I’ve admired.”

Lysandra blinked at him in confusion and then followed the line of his sight to her breasts. She leapt to her feet with a cry. “You are married!”

He shrugged. “Most men are. I’m merely offering you a way to cover your expenses, my dear.”

Lysandra folded her arms over her breasts and shook her head. “No, I will find another way to cover the expense. Now if you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to.”

She spun on her heel and left the room with her cousin’s ugly laughter following her. Once she was out of the room, down the hallway, she began to run. She burst from the doors and down the stairs without looking around her. She just wanted to get away. Away from her fears about her mother’s welfare that she had no way to address. Away from her disgust over her cousin’s advances.

And away from the realization that she was well and truly trapped by her circumstances. Her arrangement with Andrew was her only hope to escape this life and the life that had been thrust upon her mother.

From this point forward, there was no looking back.

Chapter Six

The carriage Andrew had sent for her pulled to a stop, and Lysandra finally dared to pull back the curtain and peek out at the home she would live in, albeit briefly. What she saw made her catch her breath.

It was a little home in a row of other little homes, but it was so pretty. The front gardens were well-tended so that bright roses and white trim stood out against the brick walls. The neighborhood was one Lysandra had heard of before. Bikenbottom Court was just west of the more stylish neighborhoods in London and boasted of merchants who were rich and second sons of lords who lived on inheritance and their father’s names.

And apparently…mistresses.

The carriage door opened, and the driver reached out his hand to help her down. Lysandra drew a deep breath and then allowed his assistance.

“We’ll unload your bags, miss, and have them taken to your rooms,” the driver said after she said stood staring at the house for far too long. “Please go in. You’ll find Carlsworth waiting for you. And let me know if you would like to go anywhere else today.”

Lysandra spun on him with a shake of her head. “Oh, I couldn’t ask you to stay, Mr. Wilkes. I’m sure Lord Callis would miss your service and his carriage.”

The driver blinked. “Just Wilkes, miss. And…I’m
your
driver, miss. This is your rig.”

Lysandra stared at the man dressed in a fine livery and the lovely carriage he had come in.

“My driver?” she repeated before she realized how foolish the words made her sound.

He smiled, a very kind expression. “Yes, miss. I’m so sorry I didn’t make that clear.”

Lysandra swallowed hard and then smiled back at him. “Thank you, Wilkes. I appreciate your assistance. Good day.”

“Good day, miss.” He tipped his hat at her and then went to work unloading the very few bags she had packed for her move.

Lysandra stepped forward but before she could knock the door opened and revealed another servant.

“Good afternoon, Miss Keates. I’m Carlsworth, your butler.”

Lysandra’s head was spinning. She hadn’t had the advantage of servants for…well, she could scarce remember how long. And even in her father’s house, it hadn’t been a butler! There had been a cook, a maid she and her mother had shared and a man her father used for all kinds of duties, but that was all.

“Are you quite all right, Miss Keates?” Carlsworth asked as he took a step toward her. “You are very pale.”

“I’m sorry, Carlsworth,” she said, breathless. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. I find I am a bit overwhelmed.”

“Of course,” he said, his tone as kind as could be. “You must be quite tired. Lord Callis has sent word that he will be calling within the half hour. Would you like to wait for him in the parlor while we ready your room? I’ll call for your tea.”

Lysandra blinked. So she was to be waited on like a princess?

“Miss?” he asked.

She shook her head. The servants would think her a daft princess, indeed, if she continued to stare at them like a fool.

“Thank you, that sounds very nice.” She followed his indication of one of the open doors in the hallway and stepped into a parlor.

Immediately, she fell in love. The parlor wasn’t imposing like Andrew’s was or ridiculous and showy like her cousin’s, but it fit her perfectly. It had been painted in warm greys and blues, with fine furniture that seemed as comfortable as it was pretty. There were very few decorations beyond a handful of paintings and a clock on the mantel, but the lack of décor didn’t bother Lysandra. She was too busy being utterly mesmerized by the fact that, at least for a little while, this home was hers to enjoy.

Behind her, there was the clearing of a throat, and she turned to watch a maid come inside with a serving plate of tea and a few sandwiches.

“Cook wasn’t certain what you liked,” the girl explained as she set the entire platter on the sideboard. “So she gave you a few selections. When you meet with her, you’ll have to tell her your favorites.”

Lysandra blinked in disbelief and stared at the girl. “H-hello.”

She smiled. “I’m Candace, miss. I’m your downstairs maid.”

“M-my downstairs maid?” she repeated, once again daft in her confusion and disbelief.

The girl nodded. “I do the cleaning and tidying. Your ladies maid is Faith, and she is upstairs readying your room. Cook is Eliza, but we all just call her Cook because it makes her laugh. You’ve already met Carlsworth and Wilkes, of course.”

Lysandra continued to nod, regardless of the fact that her eyes were beginning to hurt from being so wide.

“We’re all at your service, Miss Keates,” the girl pressed. “Ring for any of us any time.”

“Thank you,” Lysandra breathed. “I shall do so.”

She said the words, but she could scarcely picture herself doing so. Ringing for assistance like the lady of a manor! When just that morning she had woken in the uncomfortable confines of one of the worst rooming houses in London.

“I’ll go now. Lord Callis will be here shortly.”

Lysandra forced both her attention back to the girl and a smile as Candace stepped from the room. Once she was gone, Lysandra sank into the closest chair and let her breath out all at once.

“Dear God, I am a ninny,” she said to herself. “They are going to talk and laugh about me below stairs.”

That
she knew for a fact. After all, she had done the same in her former employer’s home. Right before he…

Well, there was no use thinking about that. Not right now. Right now she had to prepare for Andrew’s arrival. She looked down at herself. Her worn gown didn’t really fit in this pretty home, but it was what she had and there was no use feeling badly about that.

She caught a glimpse of a mirror hanging above the fireplace and moved in front of it. She grimaced. But for the faint circles beneath her eyes that seemed to be a permanent fixture anymore, she looked well enough, she supposed. But would “well enough” be
good
enough? Wasn’t a mistress supposed to be outrageously beautiful and alluring? Seductive and sophisticated like Vivien was?

She pinched her cheeks until they had a bit of color and smoothed her dress. She was checking the status of her teeth when the door behind her opened and in the reflection of the mirror, she watched Andrew walk into the parlor.

She spun from the looking glass with a dark blush and shoved her hands to her sides. Wonderful, now she had been caught examining her teeth like she was a horse.

If he noticed, he made no mention of it. He only reached behind himself and shut the door to the parlor with a loud click. They stared at each other for a long moment, long enough that Lysandra shifted. Perhaps she was supposed to say something. To begin the seduction. But what?

“Hello,” she managed and then sighed.

Hello?
That
was the best she could do.

But as silly as it was, it seemed to break the spell. Andrew took a long step toward her.

“Hello, Lysandra. Carlsworth tells me you only just arrived yourself, but I hope what you have seen of your home thus far is satisfactory to you.”

Lysandra blinked. “You cannot be serious in that question. It is a beautiful home, no one could find fault with it.”

He tilted his head and there was a flash of something in his stare that she couldn’t properly read. “I ask because the home is a bit smaller than some mistresses require. I only thought that since we would only share an affair for a short time—”

He trailed off, and Lysandra wrinkled her brow. “Of course you wouldn’t invest in a large mansion for me. And if you had, I wouldn’t know what to do with it. Having so many servants and such a beautiful home to myself is almost too much as it is. Thank you, my lord, for providing it for me.”