The Trouble With Being Wicked (23 page)

Lucy released Celeste’s hands and rose. Her light steps paced the carpet as she calmly took in the naked statuary and writhing ironwork decorating the room like an Italian palazzo. “You worked magic for me that day on the shore,” she said. “He’d never spared me a glance before and hasn’t since. Oh, I know I’m not the type to catch his eye, but that’s where you come in. You were friends once, weren’t you? Until he didn’t approve of your interest in my brother. Well, of course he didn’t. You’re a courtesan.”

Celeste’s head spun. “How old are you again?”

Lucy laughed again and suddenly Celeste could see her as an alluring, black-haired minx. It would take only the right clothing, the right tilt of her chin and a come-hither glance—”Absolutely not,” Celeste said. “You’re too young, too innocent, and you have far too bright of a future ahead of you. I won’t usher your ruination.”

“I’m four and twenty. Firmly on the shelf. Who will ever know I seduced my brother’s best friend?”

“Everyone!”

Lucy
tsk
ed. “Come now, Roman isn’t going to shout it out for all and sundry. That’s the fastest way to the parson’s trap. He’s certainly not going to tell my brother. Trestin is a crack shot. It will be a secret only the three of us know.”

“A ridiculously innocent notion,” Celeste said sharply. “Men talk. Especially him. Look how well he kept my secret.”

A gleam came into Lucy’s eyes. “I’m well aware Roman is a horrible gossip. But I promise you, he will not want to risk it.”

Celeste wracked her brain for a logical argument. Lucy seemed to have thought this through, making it more serious than a whim. “Much can be deduced from very little,” Celeste said. She rose and approached her. “How exactly did you find me?”

Lucy folded her hands before her in a picture of gentility. “A lady never reveals her sources.” Long lashes lowered demurely. A tiny smile lifted the corner of her lips.

Celeste might have been intrigued if the situation weren’t so appalling. The girl was a born flirt. She had no idea of the extent of her talent. Even Celeste was only just realizing it, and she was a trained professional. “The answer is no.”

“Oh, very well.” Lucy raised her linked hands to her bosom and spun to face the window. “If you must know, I overheard Trestin and Roman arguing that day on the shore. The pieces came together. Our father was a profligate, as I’m sure you’re aware. Trestin loathes any reminder of Father and that includes his feelings for you. I’m afraid he doesn’t understand love, Miss Gray, but he will.” She sighed. “For the last seven years, he’s kept the concept pure and perfect in his heart, believing that if my parents had loved each other with a pure, perfect innocence, Father would never have had mistresses and Mother would never have shot him for it. But they did love each other. I remember them clearly.” Her pale arms wrapped around herself as she remained before the window.

She turned. “I apologize for what I’m about to say, Miss Gray, but you need to understand why I came. After witnessing my brother’s melancholy, I’m even more adamant to have a night in Roman’s arms. I want to
live.
” She sighed. “I fear I will never have another chance.”

Celeste latched onto Lucy’s slip. “Trestin is hurting?”

Lucy’s expression softened. “Not anymore. I am sorry about that.”

Celeste glanced away.
 

Lucy approached her and gave her hand a squeeze. “Won’t you help me?”

“How can I? You wish to seduce my friend. I cannot be a part of that.”

“It is nothing less than he deserves.” Lucy sounded vehement.

Celeste supposed she ought to feel the same. It was silly of her to defend a man who’d made so little of her loyalty. But did he deserve to be used? Did anyone? Celeste pulled her hand to her belly and walked to the window. The day was bright but her thoughts were not. Roman had betrayed her confidence. He’d actively dissuaded Trestin from pursuing her. But did that make him wrong? Was he at fault, or had he only been protecting Trestin from a terrible mistake?

She couldn’t discount the many years he’d been her friend. “What if the other young ladies were just as calculating as you’re being? Perhaps he hasn’t ruined anyone at all. Rumors are often unfounded.” She’d never believed the accusers herself, no matter the evidence the young ladies claimed existed. The Roman she knew was too big-hearted to prey on innocents.

Then again, she had wanted to believe he cared about her enough to keep her secret.

“I don’t know for sure he’s deflowered any virgins,” Lucy admitted, “but I’m certain he’s raised expectations only to dash them at the last minute. He falls in and out of love like he changes cravats.” She paused. “Roman has a bundle of cravats.”

Celeste wasn’t swayed, not yet. Ruining an innocent practically made her a procuress. She turned to regard the young lady who’d seemingly grown into an indomitable woman in the last few minutes. “You’re sure you have no use for your maidenhead? An innocent like you, with a dowry and a brother determined to see you wed?”

Lucy shrugged. “Trestin loves me, really, he does, but if he knew anything about me he’d help me charter a school instead of pressing me to marry. The trouble is, I’m in love with a man who would make a terrible husband, and yet I don’t want to marry anyone else.” She looked up, eyes alight with certainty. Her shoulders set. “I will have him once, because I cannot bear not to have him at all. It shall have to be enough for a lifetime.”

Celeste faltered. If she had known her moment at the tree with Trestin would be their last together, would she have stopped him? Or would she have allowed him to touch her, to make her
feel
?

Lucy waited impatiently behind her, but Celeste wouldn’t be rushed. At last she conceded she was just as foolish and impetuous as Lucy. For if she could do that afternoon over again, she would make love to him beneath the canopy, and keep a bottled up precious memory for herself.

“I’ll teach you how to draw Roman’s interest if you’ll promise two things,” Celeste heard herself say. She turned to find Lucy’s eyes shining bright with excitement.

“Anything, Miss Gray. Name it and it’s done.”

Celeste raised her index finger to count off her stipulations. “You will seduce only Roman.”

Lucy nodded eagerly. “I want no other man in my bed.”

Celeste smiled wanly. Her life hadn’t turned out as planned, but there was still time. A girls’ school was the perfect way to give back. A way she could make a difference in the lives of others, and perhaps even come to value herself.

Decided, Celeste held up a second finger. “Two: You must allow me to be your school’s anonymous benefactress. I want to sponsor ten charity girls each year in addition to shouldering the costs we cannot cover with the paying girls’ tuition.” When Lucy’s mouth opened to argue, Celeste pressed, “I insist.”

* * *

“I’d like the school to be established by the end of the Season,” Lucy said as they abandoned the drawing room for Celeste’s study. “That way, Trestin cannot twist my arm and wrangle another one out of me.”

“It will require time to go through the details,” Celeste cautioned, opening the door to the closeted room that served as her private sanctuary. Though she knew nothing about educational institutions, she knew how to run a business. One did not jump into a risky endeavor without solid planning. She went to a wall of shelves and browsed her map collection, searching for Bath. Though she’d never been much of a reader, she did love to travel.

“Have you been to all these places?” Lucy plucked a book of navigational maps from the shelf and let it fall open. “Hmm, I think not, unless you were a pirate at one time.”

“I haven’t seen half the places I’d like, but yes, most of these I’ve collected along the way.”
There.
A neighborhood map of Bath she’d purchased last year. She pried it from between two larger books and took it to her desk. “The last time I counted, I’ve only been to six countries.”

“My goodness! And you came to our little town, too. What could possibly have brought you there?”

Celeste slid into her chair and opened the map book across her desk. She didn’t want to talk about Elizabeth. She hadn’t seen her friend in the three weeks since she’d returned to London, for she hadn’t determined how to casually look in on the situation when she wanted so much to intervene. “I thought fresh air would do me good,” she started to say, but she couldn’t finish the half-truth. “I’d rather not divulge the reason. Rarely do I act without gain in mind and that is all that needs to be said. You should know what manner of woman you’ve aligned yourself with.”

Lucy turned to her. “Someone exactly like myself?”

Touché. Celeste smiled to herself. “Very well then, Miss Lancester—”

“Please, call me Lucy.” At Celeste’s skeptical look, she hastened to add, “We are partners now, you and I.”

Celeste frowned at the page before her. It felt stolen, calling his sister by her given name. It was one thing to do it in the privacy of her own mind, and another to say it aloud. “Lucy, then.”

She turned the page, not really seeing it. If Trestin discovered their plot, he would loathe her forever.

Not that she was on friendly terms with him now. She set the book aside. “Lucy, I have one more condition. I will handle the financial part of this arrangement, and you must have a care with your reputation. Your character is the critical element of this scheme and it is on tenterhooks as it is, given the scandal in your parents’ past. Without students we have no income.”

Lucy waved away Celeste’s concern. “Fair enough.”

Only the barest agreement, but it would have to do. If she pressed harder, she might send the girl careening into trouble. Somewhat mollified, Celeste turned to the business end of it. “Now, did you have a location in mind for the school?”

For the next hour they debated the merits of Bath over Brighton. When Gordo summoned them to lunch, Celeste was surprised at the time. “Won’t Trestin be looking for you?”

“Not until it’s time to go calling.” Lucy continued to scratch out a list of expenses and actions they needed to consider before approaching other investors. “Besides, he’s at Jackson’s now. He won’t notice my absence for another few hours.”

Gentleman Jackson’s? The boxing establishment? Celeste couldn’t have been more surprised if Lucy had said he was on the moon. She tried not to wonder at his sudden interest in pugilism. Though really, what did she know of him? Perhaps he’d always been a pugilist.

She forced herself to concentrate on Lucy, instead of Lucy’s brother. It was decided they would appeal to Society matrons first. Both women liked the ring of a girls’ school led by an all-female board. Ending on a flourish, Lucy looked up. Her expression was all seriousness. “Do you think we’ve done enough honest work for the day? I’d like to begin my introduction to the ways of the demimonde, if you please.”

Celeste blinked. “You needn’t be a courtesan to seduce Roman.” Surely she hadn’t agreed to that level of instruction.

“Everyone knows he prefers the company of Cyprians,” Lucy replied practically, without the least blushing evident. “It’s where he goes after the proper balls have concluded.”

That was, unfortunately, very true. Roman did engage himself with the fast set, and the fallen set.

Celeste’s hesitation seemed to be all Lucy needed. “I want to know everything!” she said, her brown eyes shining.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Lucy sat up straighter, which didn’t help at all. She was too prim to despoil when she looked like a lady. “Perhaps if we had wine…” she hinted, completely extinguishing the impression.

Even Celeste was shocked. “At one o’clock?”
 

Lucy’s brows rose inquiringly. “Surely it can only help?”

It certainly wouldn’t hurt. Besides, Celeste could probably stand a glass, herself. This was all happening so quickly.

After calling for Gordo, she beckoned to her protégée. If they were going to set the mood, the best place to do it was in her receiving room. Easily the most shocking room in her terraced house, if not this side of St. James.

She stopped a few steps past the threshold and surveyed her infamous atrium with new eyes. She’d had it done several years ago when business was good. Floor-to-ceiling red satin covered three of the four walls. The ceiling soared past a second-floor gallery. Abovestairs, the gallery was part of a hallway, but the railing was clearly meant for voyeurs. Several chairs and a bowl of opera glasses were visible behind the balustrade.

“Oh, my,” Lucy said, twirling to see everything at once. “Oh, my, oh, my. This is…” Wordlessly, she backed into a chair. Feeling for it with one hand, she sat. “Oh, my.”

It was little wonder the young woman was overcome. For the last few years Celeste had felt pride whenever she’d entered this room. Not many courtesans could afford the likes of it. Today she merely felt responsible for Lucy, and embarrassed she’d taken her craft so far that she’d committed thousands of pounds to decorating an area large enough to instruct a dozen girls.

Goodness, if her terraced house weren’t already notorious, she might have housed the school here.

But it
was
notorious, and so was she. She must absent herself from the public part of their planning. Her past was haunting. She had only to look around to be reminded of it. Naked deities entangled themselves with voluptuous nymphs in a classically-drawn mural extending the height and width of the wall. Though
she
had more modern sensibilities, gentlemen appreciated a taste of refinement about their depravity.