Page 7 of How to Best a Marquess

Violet shrugged a slender shoulder. “Not that the earl knows. If he discovers the truth behind his wife’s escape, he’ll come looking for the person responsible at the Raven Club.”

“He won’t. Rose claimed his brain isn’t as large as other parts of him.”

Violet’s lips curled in a smile, then her expression sobered. “Still. There is the possibility that you put yourself in danger.”

“So do you.”

Violet laughed, a throaty feminine sound that no doubt had lured dozens of men to their knees. “I can handle a man.”

Ellie envied her power. Violet may be a courtesan, never a wife, but she had an abundance of beauty and brains. She’d also never be a slave to a man as his wife, never lose her property or her name upon marriage.

Most importantly, never lose her heart.

When Violet grew old, she was shrewd enough to have saved a tidy fortune and a small home in Brighton by the sea—a home that was a gift from a grateful, aging noble.

Fortunately for Ellie, the courtesan also had a conscience and was her accomplice in aiding the abused and desperate women who came to Ellie at the club. Violet’s sister had been beaten to death by her husband. He’d never stood trial for his crime and even remarried. Violet had been ten years younger than her sister and helpless to obtain justice for her murder.

She eventually had her vengeance by paying a man to slice her brother-in-law’s throat and drop him in the Thames.

The courtesan tilted her head to the side and regarded Ellie. “Why do you put yourself at risk? Was it a friend?”

Ellie’s fingers tightened on the strings of her reticule. She knew what the courtesan was asking. “Mary wasn’t a friend. At least, not right away.”

“Then why?”

Ellie hesitated, but Violet had a way of putting her at ease. “Lady Moore, Mary, frequented the club. My brother, Ian, first noticed the bruises. He refused her husband, a viscount, membership. She came to the club more often then, knowing she would be safe for those few hours. Mary was only a year older than myself at the time, and I recalled seeing her when I had my own debut. We all thought her fortunate when the viscount proposed to her so early. She had two sons soon after her marriage. But when she showed up at the club a few years later we became friends and she told me…stories. Disturbing ones.” Ellie cleared her throat and swallowed. “The viscount had a horrible temper.”

“Her children?”

The words came easier now. “She’d purposely taunt the viscount during his fits to protect her two boys. She’d take beatings for them. Ian offered to smuggle her out of London, to find a new life for her on the continent, but she refused. She couldn’t leave her children.” Divorce was nearly impossible, especially for the aristocracy. It required an act of Parliament, and the wife would lose all rights to her children. Ellie thought it horribly unfair, a legal system created by men for their benefit at the sacrifice of women.

“I can surmise the ending,” Violet said, a note of sadness in her voice.

“My friend was found dead at the bottom of the grand staircase in their London home. Her neck was broken. The viscount claimed a burglar had pushed her from the top step.” Ellie’s voice broke. “She should have run. The end result would have been the same. Her children remain at their father’s mercy.”

News of Mary’s death had been a turning point for Ellie. She’d decided to help as much as she could.

“You cannot save everyone,” Violet said.

“I’m not foolish enough to believe I can. But I can continue my efforts. I’m expanding the club to have a private gambling room for women. I have no doubt it will be profitable. Many wealthy women frequent the club for entertainment. But I have another motive as well, one that involves subterfuge. I’ve arranged for a hidden room to be connected to the women’s gambling room, a bedchamber where a woman can spend the night until she can be moved.”

“And the Marquess of Deveril? How do you expect to accomplish all this without his knowledge? I can only assume he will want to know what his competition is accomplishing.”

“He will never learn of the hidden room.” She’d keep it from Hugh at all costs.

Violet leaned back on the padded bench. “Hmm. Not all gentlemen are bad. There are those that cherish their wives and their marital bonds.”

Ellie knew that. Ian cherished Grace. He couldn’t wait for their babe to be born.

“The Devil Marquess is not one of those men,” Ellie snapped.

Violet arched a well-plucked eyebrow. “You think he’d hurt a woman?”

“No, not physically.” Of that, she was certain. He might be a blackguard, but deep in the marrow of her bones, she knew he’d never strike a woman. “But there are other types of harm.”

“Ah, he broke your heart years ago.”

Damn Violet for being so uncannily perceptive. “I am no longer a lovesick girl who swoons over a pair of green eyes.”

“I have no doubt you can challenge him for the casino. But beware, a heart is a tricky organ. It has a will of its own,” Violet said.

“You needn’t fear. This heart is immune to the Devil Marquess.”