Tutoring Miss Molly (7 page)

Yvette added a matching bonnet with a pointed black feather, and then came back with a pelisse, embroidered in the same manner as the bonnet. “For when my lady wishes a stroll in the garden.”

Molly turned to the maid. “But I am not a lady.” Her eyes returned to the gown on her bed. “Please, just call me Molly.”

Yvette pressed the garment against Molly’s chest. “With this gown, you will soon feel like a lady.”

Smiling wistfully, Molly undressed. Eager to feel the smooth material against her skin, she allowed Yvette help her into a soft chemise, a tight corset and then the gown. Resisting the urge to twirl around the room like a little girl, Molly sat on the chair and faced the large brass mirror. Yvette skillfully swept her hair up into a fashionable chignon.

The maid reached for a glass container with a pearl lid. “We have rice powder if you wish to dust your nose and castor oil for your eyelashes.”

“No, thank you.” Molly twisted the lid open on a small jar. “What is this?” She sniffed the bland contents.

“Clear pomade. It adds sheen to the lips.”

Molly dipped her finger into the smooth wax and glided it over her lips.

“There, I am done,” Yvette said with pride and stood back.

Mesmerized, Molly could not believe the person staring back in the mirror. Green ribbons tumbled from her red locks, matching her eyes as they glistened from the reflection of the candle light. Her glossy lips shimmered, making them appear fuller. Even her skin glowed a natural hue instead of a sunburned red.

For the first time, she felt beautiful.

A slow, secret smile quivered upon her lips.

“You look divine,” Yvette said, grasping Molly’s shoulders with tender support.

Clearing her throat, she glanced away and stood. “Thank you, Yvette.”

The foyer was empty when Molly forced her steps to slow, gliding down the stairs as if she had all the time in the world. The new shoes pinched her tender flesh, but she was determined not to show discomfort. Devlin would not see her squirm in her new clothes.

She halted at the entrance of the noisy dining room, out of sight. Flicking her hands, she willed them to stop shaking. She was dressed as a lady, now she must act like one. If only she knew how.

The knot in her stomach grew and her chest ached as if she had been cutting wood all day. The muslin was a little too tight, but she did not tug on it. Tilting her chin, she strolled into the dining room. A loud clatter filled the room as cutlery fell onto the plates. Everyone swiveled their heads to gain a glimpse of the new courtesan.

Molly searched the crowd until she found Devlin sitting next to his betrothed.

His gaze finally rose and his appraisal devoured her with a primitive hunger. Molly could feel his desire from across the room and a ripple of excitement shot through her heart. His mouth softened, reminding her of how wondrous his lips felt against hers. As if they were the only two people in the room, she walked unconsciously toward him. Hypnotized by gray-blue eyes that promised pleasures beyond her dreams, she could not break his stare. She wanted him. No matter how obstinate he was, she could not deny it.

“Good Lord, you are exquisite.” Kenneth stepped in her path. “I have saved you a seat and have taken the liberty of procuring your breakfast.” Pulling out a chair, Devlin’s brother motioned for her to sit.

Molly looked at the seat and back to Devlin, his face darkening. Reality snapped her out of the lingering fantasy. She took a deep breath.

“You are most kind, my lord,” she replied to Kenneth.

She settled into her chair and picked at her food. How ever her outward calm appeared, the knot remained in her stomach, making it hard to swallow her food. She tried to pay attention to Kenneth’s chatter about the hunting season, but her mind kept wandering back to Devlin.

“Do you like to hunt?” After a long silence, Lord Kenneth asked, “Miss Molly?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you like to hunt?”

Molly shook her head, defying the urge to take a quick glance at her tutor. She must remember the only rule of a courtesan—do not fall in love. She had to keep her traitorous heart away from Devlin. He was her tutor and that was all.

Against her will, she glanced in his direction. Devlin sat brooding, staring unflinchingly at Molly as Lady Audrey tried in vain to pull his attention back to her. Finally, the blonde used her hand to guide his jaw toward her. Even though he faced Lady Audrey, his gaze stretched sideways to search for Molly.

Molly giggled into her hands, then returned her attention back to her dining partner, nodding to whatever he said.

 Kenneth clapped his hands with excitement. “Splendid.”

What? What did I just agree to?

He rose from his chair and helped her to her feet. “The maze is this way,” Kenneth said smoothly, his eyelids half cast.

She rose ungainly from the chair. Did she consent to a tryst in the maze?

Taking her hand, Kenneth led her outside the dining room. He enclosed his other hand over hers and kissed it with reverence. “You will see, unlike many others in this house, I know how to pleasure a lady.”

“But—but—” she stuttered, wondering how to unlock his grasp upon her hand.

“Brother,” a commanding tone issued from behind.

Kenneth sighed, and turned with her hand tucked snug inside the crook of his arm.

“I regret to inform you both, Miss Molly has a previous engagement elsewhere,” Devlin’s cool tone was rigid and final while his glare burned through Molly.

“Maybe we should allow the lady to decide who she wishes to be with.”

Caught between the two gentlemen, Molly was unsure what to say. She finally released her hand from Kenneth and turned to face him. “If the marquess has already made pervious arrangements, then I must honor them,” she uneasily said, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

Kenneth brows scolded Molly with reproach. With a terse nod, he turned his back on her and shoved the door. It slammed against the outside wall then propelled closed.

Concerned, Molly faced Devlin, but he looked bored with his brother’s temper. Offering his arm, they walked back toward the main staircase.

“I am afraid I have hurt your brother’s feelings.”

“He is young, pay no heed to him.”

“Where is this engagement?” Molly asked, wondering if today he would teach her how to be courtesan. Her insides shook with trepidation and excitement by the thought of his confident hands gliding over her body. She peeked downward, his long tapered fingers were neat and clean. Molly closed her eyes, imagining sucking each finger in turn, the rough pad against her tongue. Then when they were moist from her mouth, she would lower them to…

 “Fetch Miss Molly’s bonnet and bring it to the stables.” Devlin summoned a passing servant. He turned to her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You were in deep thought. Care to share?”

Her gaze dropped to his hands again and her cheeks burned. Shaking her head, she pressed her lips firmly together. She must stop daydreaming.

Molly did not know if he snarled or suppressed a chuckle. In a rich, timbered voice that caressed her skin, he said, “Let us hope you can ride a horse.”

Walking before him, she replied in an impish tone, “Let us hope you can keep up.”

Chapter Six

From the ballroom window, Audrey watched Devlin follow the ungainly redhead around the side of the building. She did not miss the amused expression on his face as if he found the uncouth country girl utterly delightful.

With an open palm, she smacked the glass pane. The arched window wobbled, but did not break. Pity. It would have made her feel much better if it had smashed.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the window. The sun shone on her face, prickling her skin with warmth. Touching the soft skin on her cheek, she jerked into the shadows of the empty ballroom.

Why was Devlin secretive about the girl? Did he find her attractive? Audrey scoffed and observed her reflection in a gilded-framed mirror on the wall. She was by far more beautiful. Even the Prince Regent himself could not resist her charms. So why was Devlin so intrigued with this courtesan? Did he not tell her time and again, he detested those types of women?

In the reflection, her light green eyes narrowed to slits. “I need to know more.”

The heels on her boots clicked against the floor in rapid succession. She strained a brief smile onto her lips when she passed an aristocrat. Changing one’s personality to suit the room was something she knew how to do very well. Little did these insipid fools know that when she became the Marquess of Wilton, they would be cowering at her feet. Until then, she would have to deal with making the servants’ lives miserable.

She shoved the kitchen door open and the kitchen maids jolted. Her lips twitched in satisfaction. Crossing her arms, she scanned the large chamber for one pretty servant in particular. The frightened maids waited for her requests, their faces pale and anxious. She had the attention of all except one.

“Yvette!”

The servants jumped again, but the French maid refused to turn around. Instead, she bravely kept preparing a basket of food. Fury seethed through Audrey’s veins. How dare she ignore her?

“Leave us,” Audrey commanded. The girls scuttled out like ants, each pushing the other to be the first to escape her wrath.

She stalked the shapely maid, walking around the long center counter in the kitchen. Yvette appeared not to care but Audrey knew better. Judging from the stiffness her shoulders as she filled a wicker basket, Yvette bluffed boldness.

“What do you want, my lady?” she asked in a flat voice without turning.

Audrey stood directly behind the maid, blocking her from moving. “Information.”

Yvette raised her head. “What makes you think I know anything?”

The little whore was defying her.

Grabbing Yvette’s blond hair, Audrey yanked hard, causing the maid to sob. “You know everything that happens in this manor,” Audrey whispered.

“I will not betray—”

Pulling her hair, Audrey forced Yvette to face her and pressed her against the counter. No matter how hard the maid tried, Audrey could sense the fear dripping off her. Her breathing increased, fanning Audrey’s face with a sweet scent of berries.

Calming her voice, Audrey said, “After all the intimacies we shared, you would not want to
betray
me, would you?”

Yvette’s eyes flickered with indecision.

“Maybe all you need is a little encouragement.” Audrey gathered the folds of the maid’s linen dress into her hands and pulled up the material.

Yvette looked to the doorway, then back. “My lady.”

Pinning her body against Yvette, a sense of sexual dominance empowered Audrey’s arousal. Her fingers glided beneath Yvette’s dress and slipped down her undergarments. She gasped as Audrey dipped her fingers into her warm, moist crevice.

“Tell me about the new courtesan,” Audrey demanded in a low purr.

Yvette shook her head, closing her eyes; she moaned with pleasure. Audrey rubbed her fingers over her hardened clit. “Tell me, Yvette. I can give you pleasure as well as pain.”