To Seduce a Bride (23 page)

Meanwhile, Heath thought, slowly nodding with resolve, he would use the opportunity to determine how to earn Lily's trust and respect, to show her a better, more admirable side of his character, so she would have no doubt that he was utterly and completely different from the kind of man she despised and feared.

Chapter Twelve

It is very strange. He seems to have abandoned the game.

—Lily to Fanny

It surprised Lily when she saw nothing of Heath the following day. He had called on her so regularly that she expected him to continue the same pattern. Yet she didn't hear a word from him on Wednesday, not even a note.

She heard nothing from him on Thursday, either, and was greatly puzzled to learn that he had invited Fleur and Chantel to share his box at the theater that evening without even mentioning the invitation to her.

Lord Poole was to accompany them, Lily discovered. Since the night of the soiree, the viscount had practically lived at the boardinghouse, and was obviously enamored of Chantel—a development that delighted the aging beauty and warmed Lily's heart.

Having declined Heath's invitation to the theater once before, Lily could hardly object to being excluded this time, but when he arrived to collect the courtesans, he said barely a word to her.

Fleur and Chantel didn't seem to notice, they were so excited about the treat Lord Claybourne was offering them. They bustled about the entrance hall, laughing and chattering gaily as they collected wraps and fans.

When they had gone—after telling Lily not to wait up since they were to dine at a fashionable hotel after the play—the echo of their gaiety made the house seem rather quiet.

Her spirits sinking as a consequence, Lily wandered into the drawing room in search of something to read. She felt at loose ends now that the soiree was over, since her time was much less occupied. Oh, she was still teaching lessons to several of her pupils at their request, but the urgency was gone for most of the girls, at least those who had secured new protectors.

Seeing a copy of the daily newspaper,
The Morning Post,
lying on a table, Lily began skimming the pages. Fleur and Chantel subscribed to both the morning and evening papers, since they liked to pore over the society and fashion sections. Normally the items about books, Parliamentary proceedings, foreign news, and shipping reports interested Lily, but just now they failed to hold her attention.

Instead, she kept wondering if Heath had abandoned his courtship of her. Perhaps he considered their game not worth finishing, given that she'd made her position about marrying him so clear.

Strangely, the possibility disappointed her rather than relieving her. She should be very happy to be rid of him.

Her regret was only temporary, Lily told herself. Heath's absence would create something of a void in her life at the moment, since he'd been underfoot so much of late. But she would adjust. She couldn't deny, however, that she had missed his presence over the past two days. Missed him teasing her and provoking her and arousing her—

Determinedly Lily cut off that train of thought. There was no point in dwelling on Heath's plans for their courtship. Even so, she couldn't help but wonder if their night of passion together had opened his eyes to her deficiencies. She knew very well, from Fanny and other sources, that a man's carnal needs required fulfilling. And she was likely too inexperienced, too unskilled, too
virginal,
to satisfy a renowned lover like Heath.

Indeed, it was surprising that he had abstained for as long as he had.

Lily felt herself scowl as she remembered his terse declaration that he could find a mistress on his own, without her help. Perhaps he would do so now if he'd decided she wasn't worth pursuing any longer.

The notion of him making love to a new mistress made Lily's stomach churn and lowered her spirits even further.

Chiding herself for being a fool, she set down the newspaper and rose, deciding to go up to her bedchamber to fetch the book Heath had brought her about travels in the South Seas. She had read it through once but had had little time to study it in depth, and the narrative was indeed fascinating, just as he'd promised.

However, as she mounted the front staircase and reached the second floor landing, Lily heard the unmistakable sound of sobbing coming from down the corridor on her right. Turning that way, she followed the sounds to an open door.

It was the bedchamber that Peg Wallace shared with two other lodgers. To her surprise, she found Peg sitting on one of the beds, her arm around a weeping young woman—one of the boarders who hadn't found a patron at the soiree, Betty Dunst.

Betty was crying inconsolably, low racking sobs that seemed to be dredged up from the bottom of her soul.

When Lily entered tentatively, Peg looked up, her eyes bleak with sadness. “We are sorry to disturb you, Miss Loring. I meant to shut the door.”

“Is Betty injured?” Lily asked quietly, approaching the bed.

Peg gave a savage grimace, while Betty wailed harder and buried her face in her hands. “You might say so,” Peg replied. “She is with child.”

Lily hesitated, not having any experience in such matters. “Is there any way I may help?”

Grimly Peg shook her head. “I doubt so, Miss Loring. You are too fine a lady. But you are kind to offer,” Peg added quickly.

Sitting beside Betty, Lily placed a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. “At least tell me what is upsetting you so terribly.”

Nodding shakily, Betty drew several deep breaths in an effort to control her weeping and wiped at her streaming eyes with the handkerchief she held clutched in her hand. “It is just…that I…don't know what to do. I can't keep the child. What will become of me if I try? When my belly swells too big…I cannot work.”

Betty, Lily knew, was employed at a nearby gentleman's club that was little more than a high-class brothel, and had worked there for two years. Betty was the daughter of the head gardener on a large estate in Dorsetshire. When she'd let herself be seduced by a groom at the estate, her father had cast her out of his house, so she came to London. She'd nearly starved before finding a position selling her body in a pleasure house. It was that or perish.

“And the father?” Lily asked. “Could he help?”

Betty gave another hoarse sob. “I don't know who the father is. It could be any one of a dozen coves. And none of them would care a fig about a bastard whelp.”

Lily bit her tongue, realizing how naive her question had been. And she was at a loss for something further to say.

Betty went on tearfully lamenting her plight. “I'll have no blunt to pay for my board, and no income for months, and Miss Delee will throw me out on the streets, and I will have nowhere to go—”

“She will do no such thing, Betty,” Lily murmured.

“But even if she allows me to stay, what will I do with a baby? How can I care for it?”

When her voice broke again, Peg interrupted softly. “Betty knows she will have to visit a midwife soon. That is why she is crying.”

Comprehending what Peg meant, Lily felt her stomach clench. “You want to have the baby, Betty?”

“Yes…even if I don't know who the father is. But I don't see how. I can't go back to the streets. I can't put an innocent child through that. I don't want my baby to know what it is like to be so hungry, your stomach feels as if it is caving in. To be so desperate you want to die. I
cannot
do that, Miss Loring. I would rather kill it now.”

When Betty began weeping into her hands again, Lily stroked her back gently, trying to offer comfort. Her heart ached for the girl, and she knew she couldn't allow Betty's misery to continue.

“Betty…you must stop crying before you make yourself ill. Listen to me. We will find a solution somehow. I have friends whom I can persuade to help you. We will find someone to take you in so that you may have the baby and not worry about his future.”

Betty's sobs arresting suddenly, she looked up, her expression half fearful, half hopeful. “Oh, Miss Loring…do you think you
could
?”

“I am certain of it,” Lily said convincingly. “If nothing else, I will supply the funds myself for you to raise your child.”

“Oh, Miss Loring,” she breathed. “You are an
angel.
No one is so good as you. But I could never ask you to pay my way. I can work—I am happy to work for my living.”

Lily searched the girl's blotched, earnest face, recognizing the sentiment: Betty wanted independence, not charity. Just as the Loring sisters had always wanted.

“Then I think we must find you gainful employment,” Lily said. “What sort of work are you best suited for?”

“I am good with flowers…growing them, I mean. I was used to acting as my da's assistant from the time I could walk.”

“Well, I will see what I can do. For now, why don't you wash your face and lie down? Weeping cannot be good for the baby.”

“I know.” Her tears had quieted by now, and Betty sniffed as she wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. “But I cannot lie down, Miss Loring. I am supposed to report to work in a short while. The madam will turn me off for cert if I am late, and then I will be in a worse fix than I am now.”

Frowning, Lily shook her head. “You cannot continue to work there when you are with child. No, Betty, you are not to return to your club. Tomorrow you can give notice, but just rest now and don't worry about the future. I will let you know as soon as I think of something.”

Fresh tears sprang to Betty's eyes as she looked at Lily almost reverently. “
Thank you,
Miss Loring. I cannot thank you enough—”

“You needn't thank me, my dear. It is no more help than a very kind lady once offered my sisters and me,” Lily said, thinking of Winifred and how, because of her generosity in funding the Freemantle Academy for Young Ladies, they had been able to have lives far different from the one poor Betty had endured. “I am only trying to extend her kindness.”

Patting Betty's shoulder comfortingly, Lily rose and started to turn toward the door. But then Peg's quiet voice stopped her. “Miss Loring?”

“Yes?”

Lily waited while Peg slowly stood up. She seemed hesitant, her gaze lowered as she plucked at her skirt. Finally she swallowed. “Miss Loring…do you think it would be possible…” She cleared her throat. “That is, would your friends…be willing to find respectable employment for me, perhaps?”

Lily regarded Peg with a quizzical look. Her tale was somewhat similar to Betty's in that both girls had found themselves on the streets, forced to fend for themselves. Except that Peg had worked in a noble household in London as a lady's maid. When her lordly master had cornered her in a drunken stupor and kissed her against her will, his lady-wife had caught them together and dismissed Peg without a character. Unable to find respectable work without proper references, Peg had found employment as a ballet dancer with the Royal Opera, although she'd been hired for her exquisite beauty rather than her meager dance skills.

Peg's request was puzzling, however, since she had just garnered a very wealthy baronet as a protector.

“I thought you were pleased with the arrangement you made with Sir Robert,” Lily said slowly.

“I
am
pleased, Miss Loring. I mean…Sir Robert is a better patron than I ever hoped for. But I…I don't really want to be his mistress. Truth to tell, I hate it,” she said in a low ardent voice. “I was a good girl before I became a demirep. And when I must sin that way…Sometimes I want to die, too.”

Lily felt herself flinch as a sharp knife of guilt stabbed her. She had thought Peg was merely painfully shy, not that she was so dreadfully unhappy.

“I never realized, Peg,” Lily murmured, feeling a little sick inside. “I am sorry I encouraged you to join our lessons, or helped prepare you for the soiree. I thought it was what you wanted.”

“Oh,
no,
Miss Loring…that wasn't my meaning! I don't want you to think I didn't appreciate your lessons. I
did.
If I must earn my living on my back, it is far better to serve a rich gentleman. No, you were wondrous, teaching us all how to better ourselves. But if I could quit this life, I would, and gladly. And if you could help me…I would be ever so grateful.”

Lily couldn't speak for a moment; her throat had closed with the threat of tears when she considered the plight of these poor women. Their lives were a constant struggle; they had no family, no future, with little hope of happiness or joy. But she could change that.

“Of course I will help you, Peg,” Lily declared, her voice thick with emotion. “There is no question that I will do everything in my power for you.”

Peg's lips quivered in a tremulous smile. “I have learned one useful skill recently, at least. I've become very clever with a needle, sewing costumes for my fellow dancers. I could perhaps work in a modiste's shop as an apprentice…or as a dresser's assistant.”

“Yes, Miss Loring,” Betty broke in earnestly, despite her own troubles. “Peg has a splendid eye for fashion. Why, she could create her own designs if she had the chance. You should see her sketches. They put
La Belle Ensemble
to shame.”