Lady of Pleasure (31 page)

In his younger years, he and his uncle used to race his horse down Rotten Row every week, just to agitate everyone on the path and show off their skills as riders. He bit back a smile thinking about it. It had been years since he had gone riding like that. “I will go riding and taking it from there.”

“
Bien
.” She eyed him and eventually asked, “I will now be digging my nails in a bit deeper, for which I apologize.” She paused. “How much does your Lady Caroline know about what Lady Stanbury did? And does she know about your life with your father and what it was like?”

Ronan swiped his face. His uncle apparently included
everything
in that letter. “No. She knows nothing.”

“Why?”

He shifted in the chair in agitation. “Because I don’t want her to know.”

She veered toward him, that brisk scent of mint, floating close. Pausing before him, she said, “You must tell her. Otherwise, her doors will remain closed to you because she will have no understanding of who you are.”

Christ. He fell back against the chair. “No. I have humiliated myself enough in her eyes. I’m not doing it. I’m here to learn how to woo her. Not humiliate myself.”

Madame de Maitenon reached down and with a forefinger gently lifted his chin.

He paused and eventually met her gaze.

Still keeping her finger in place beneath his chin, she explained gently, “You did nothing wrong. You were a boy who bore a wicked lash that should have never touched your skin or your mind. But now that you are a man. You must right the wrong done against you for shame destroys the soul. And if you let this shame destroy you, my lord, the woman you wish to claim will never be yours. For no woman wants a broken man. Do you understand?”

He blinked rapidly, his throat tightening. In that moment, he achingly recognized that this courtesan, was worth far, far more than a mere Havana cigar. It was astounding. “I understand.”

She released his chin. “I am glad you do.”

A breath escaped him. “So when do I tell her? And how do I do it?”

She held up a hand. “
Non
. You are not ready. Until I say you are ready, you will say nothing and do nothing. You will not write to her or call on her and you most certainly will not send her flowers or gifts of any sort. You must give her time to dim the pain you have caused.”

Ronan gripped the painted, carved arms of the chair hard. Because he knew time was something he didn’t have. “There is another man. If I give her time, and show her no indication of my interest, I am giving him an opportunity to take my place.”

She tsked. “Have more faith in what you share with her.”

He gripped the arms of the chair harder, feeling his fingers pulse. “Faith is one thing, her mother is quite another. She made it very clear to me she would push Caroline into his arms.”

Her brows drew together for a moment. She tilted her head toward him. “And do you think your Lady Caroline would allow for that? Is she one who can be easily persuaded to do something she does not wish to do?”
His grip relaxed. “No.”

“Then we will leave it be. Unless the need arises, have faith in her and above all, have faith in yourself. You are worth more than this doubt.”

His gaze flew up to hers, trying to cradle that faith. “And what if I see her somewhere in passing? As I am still taking these lessons and keeping my silence? What do I do?”

She lifted a silver brow. “If you see her, acknowledge her. Openly smile and speak to her as if no angry words had ever passed. Make her curious. Leave her breathless. Make her want to see you again.”

For the love of— “And how do I do all that? Without making myself look stupid, that is?”

She grinned, causing the wrinkled edges of her bright eyes to deepen. “Starting tomorrow, you and I will be meeting every day, save Sunday, here in this room for two hours in the evening until the school opens. In but one short week, that would be twelve hours of experience you will have acquired which half of London’s men will never see. So you needn’t worry. You will learn to be dashing much quicker than you think. We must, however, focus on something more important in this moment. And that is…facing Lady Caroline’s brother. Oho. That will be a challenge. I know her family all too well and have had dealings with both her mother and father prior to the old earl’s death. The entire family is overly passionate, and coming from me, that says something. They know nothing of control and if given a chance, they would slap the devil and take over hell. Her brother is no different. Do you agree?”

He smirked. “Yes.”

“And yet, now, this same man has resigned himself to overseeing your Lady Caroline’s well-being in the way her father used to. He must be informed of all that has come to pass.
But
…given his passionate nature, it must be resolved strategically.”

If only it were that easy. “What do you suggest?”

“You will bring her brother here to the school. Next week.”

Ronan’s lips parted. “You want me to bring him…
here
?”

“
Oui
. It will do him good to see the efforts you are making in pursuing his sister.”

The woman was out of her mind. God’s teeth, Hawksford was a man’s man who didn’t even read books unless the topic involved Roman history, blood and war. Ronan
also
didn’t want the man knowing he was taking lessons from a courtesan.

Ronan held up both hands, giving both palms to her. “I am
not
bringing him here and making an idiot out of myself.”
She regarded him for a long moment and lowered her chin. “Bring him here with you to Berwick Street. May first. Next week, Saturday, in the morning between ten and eleven. Mr. Hudson will be notified of the appointment. You will not only bring Lord Hawksford, but you will ask him to apply for the school. See to it he does.”

Ronan choked and sat up, his booted foot hitting the leg of the chair beneath him. “Ask him to apply? And how the devil do you expect me to do that? The man would never apply to a-a…
school
whose sole purpose is to educate men on women. What man would?
I
barely got here myself.
And I’m desperate
! The moment I tell him, he’ll—”

She snapped up a reprimanding hand. “Argue not. If you think he will not come or apply, then I suggest you not tell him. Give him an excuse. Any excuse. He will be better off. Because we need him to enroll and be part of the school before we inform him of the debauchment. That way, he will be able to see the effort you are making in honor of his sister and have a better understanding of your devotion. The moment we disclose the truth to him, that is when Lady Caroline will be tossed back into your arms, for Lord Hawksford will insist you and she wed, and that is when—”

“
No
.” Ronan sat up in the chair and pointed rigidly up at her. “Absolutely not. God, what are you—
No
. I will
not
force Caroline into my arms like that. No. I wish for her to come to me willingly before we tell her brother. I wish to woo her. As a gentleman should.” As Captain Wentworth would.

She angled toward him. “And woo her you shall. But different rules apply. You are not wooing a virgin anymore. That bed and whatever romance you might have created has been sullied by you. Lady Caroline has been debauched, and regardless of what you think, she, as a debutante, without a husband, is ruined and this cannot be approached differently. You must protect her and mere wooing is not enough. If this Lady Waverly your uncle wrote of, knows of her ruin, everyone will know of it soon, too. Let there be no doubt in that. A whisper in this society is a flint spark over a stack of dry hay. You
cannot
allow your Lady Caroline to carry such a burden on her own should that spark fly prior to you winning her. As a man, you must lay out your honor to her brother
first
before you are able to even
begin
to lay out your honor to her and woo her. She may not be willing when she is pushed into your arms, but she loves you. Or at least that is what your uncle has written to be such. Assure me before we proceed with this idea of mine. Does she love you?”

Ronan swallowed, thinking about what she felt for him. “I suppose.”

“Och, and it is back to ‘I suppose.’ Does she love you, my lord? Even a man incapable of professing love knows the difference. Does she love you? Do you know?”

Ronan drew in a deep breath to keep himself calm. He eventually nodded. “What I do know of love…yes. I would say she loves me.”

“Then you are not forcing her into misery. You are ending it and ensuring she finally meets a man willing to educate himself in her honor. So embrace what I offer. It is best for her and it is best for you.” She reached down and tapped his shoulder twice. “Bring her brother. Bring him under the guise of whatever you see fit. Lady Chartwell will do the rest. She will get him to not only stay but put in an application with the mere pucker of her lips.
Done
.”

He glowered at her. “You expect me to lie to Hawksford to get him here to the school?”

“Would he attend class alongside you and place both hands on a desk and smile?”

He shifted his jaw. “No.”

“I have made my point. Some men need to be roped. And Lord Hawksford is a man who needs far more rope than you have in your box.”

This mess was about to get a whole lot bigger.

She rotated, using her hand to keep her skirts from brushing his feet and walked over to the statue whose outstretched arm was draped with a corset. The one with the largest carved cock on display. Turning, she wagged a finger at him. “Come.”

Why did he feel as if his first lesson was about to begin? He rose, adjusted his morning coat, and then strode toward her, halting beside her and the sculpture.

She gestured toward the statue, adjusting the corset on its arm. “Face him. Foot to foot.”

Ronan eyed her. “Is there a purpose to this foot to foot? Aside from wanting to make me feel incredibly inferior given the size of his…?” Ronan gestured toward the massive stone cock that had been carved to hang slightly to the right.

She leaned in and delicately tapped at Ronan’s cheek. “First rule: always trust my intentions. Now face him,
s’il vous plait
. Or I will call over my Harold from the other side of my school, whom I assure you, is thrice the size of this statue, and I will make you face
him
for your first lesson. You decide. A statue or a real man. Which?”

Something told him he wanted the statue. Facing the sculpture, Ronan walked straight up to it, determined not to think about what he was expected to do and paused where the arm stretched toward him, just at the tips of its splayed, rounded fingers that angled upward toward the ceiling.

“Closer,” Madame de Maitenon added pertly. “Foot to foot. He is your friend.”

Right. Ronan moved in close, edging in around that muscled arm and set the tips of each scuffed boot against those stone bare feet. He now stared into the features of a perfect, expressionless, carved face whose deeply set eyes were rimmed, but whose pupils were smooth and blank.

“Look at him,” she prodded.

“I am,” he assured her, still staring at that expressionless face.

“Tell me what you see.”

He lifted a brow. “A well-carved, naked man with no expression who happens to have a corset hanging from his arm for reasons I have yet to understand. That is what I see.”

“There is more to him than that.”

He kept his brow lifted. “Is there? Really?”

“
Oui
. What is he made of?”

Oh. “Stone.”

“Ah. Not flesh, but stone.
Bien
. Now look at his face,” she prodded. “Is he a man capable of affection, romance and great passion?”

He smirked, noting how it stared mindlessly. “If he is, I would be well surprised.”

She tapped four fingers delicately against her open palm, mimicking a dainty clap. “Bravo.” She used those same four fingers to gesture toward the sculpture’s left cheek. “And
this
is a face you do not wish to own.
This
is a face that knows
nothing
about passion, affection, romance
or
women. And
this
is what you have been accused of being, my lord.
This
. For despite his perfect appearance, and a body made for a woman to admire and desire, his lack of
passion
will end in him tragically standing with his arm outstretched and alone for the rest of his stone-like life.”

A breath escaped Ronan at the comparison. Is this what Caroline saw?

“Do you want to be like this man?” she asked. “Do you want to feel nothing? Do you want to be alone?”

He shifted his jaw. “No. I do not.”

“I am pleased to hear it. That means you are not made of stone but clay. And clay can be molded. Your first lesson begins now. You must learn to face what you fear most. Given you panic during a kiss, we will bring the kiss to you in a less intrusive manner. You will practice on your friend here.”
He blinked. “
What
?”

“Practice on him. Trace his lips with a finger and when you are ready, mold your mouth against his and count to ten before disengaging. Would you like me to leave? Or would you like me to stay and offer you assistance in this?”

Ronan paused in disbelief and glanced back at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“Worry not. He is clean. The servants dust and wash him every week.”

Laughter overtook him. He slowly held up both hands. “His cleanliness is the least of my concerns.”

She adjusted her pearls. “Shall I bring in Harold? He is fully dressed. You can practice on him, if it pleases you. I pay him well. He won’t mind.”

He choked. “Now, now, hold on, hold on. Is there a reason you wish for me to practice my kissing on…
men
?”

“
Oui.
Given you are attracted to women, the thought of kissing a man, especially a well-endowed naked one, should make you panic. And that is what we want. We want you to push
through
your panic and still deliver a kiss.” She patted the sculpture’s shoulder. “Show me a kiss. Use your tongue.”