Page 6 of Only a Mistress Will Do

She rose on her elbow, keeping the covers tight over her shoulder. “Thank you, my lord, but I will manage. I would not want to put you to any trouble.” If only he would leave, she could go back to her room upstairs and perhaps stop shaking enough to get some sleep.

“It’s no trouble.” He stooped, grabbed her purple dress then approached the bed. “Here…” He stopped, a light flush suffusing his face. “I am sorry. Miss Carlton.”

Violet shook her head, regretting she had given him that piece of information about her identity. “I’m Cassandra.”

“No, you are Miss Carlton. Miss…” He waited expectantly, with a raised eyebrow that brooked no nonsense.

“Violet,” she whispered, her shame complete that he now knew her name. She cringed and slid further under the covers. Madame Vestry was right. Only anonymity made survival possible at the House of Pleasure.

“Well, Miss Violet Carlton, I have a proposition for you.” His bright blue eyes glittered.

“What do you mean, my lord?” She clutched the cover tighter.

“I want you to become my mistress.”

Oh, God. She slid all the way beneath the covers. He still wanted her. So why hadn’t he taken her just now?

“Miss Carlton?” There was a tap on her shoulder. “It would be a temporary arrangement, and in name only. I would like to help you.”

Inch by inch, Violet poked her head out. “You want to help me? But why, my lord? I have no claim on you. I don’t know you.” God knew she should be grateful, but she had seen the look in his eyes. This might be a mistake. Here, at the House of Pleasure, if he hurt her at least she could scream and help would come. Madame Vestry did not tolerate her girls being physically harmed.

“I knew your brother, Miss Carlton.” He sounded grim and impatient. “And therein lies the claim. I insist you allow me to help you. I would not have you end up in this house because of the untimely death of your brother.”

“You knew Jamie?” Her brother had known all manner of men, but none of them had had the decency to attend his funeral. His shameful death had tainted all his family.

“We were not well acquainted. However, I feel the obligation.”

Fear, stress, and shame of the past hours must have taken their toll. Her overtaxed brain could not make the connection. Simply knowing a man did not obligate one toward his sister. “But how—”

“None of that really matters, does it, Miss Carlton? I offer my assistance to keep you from a life of prostitution.” Hard lines scored his face. “Will you insist on bandying words about it, or will you accept my offer?”

“But you asked me to be your mistress!” She sat up in bed, careful to swath herself in the sheets. “How is that different?”

“As I said, you will be so in name only. The woman I employed as such for the past six months went home last week. I gave her a large settlement and sent her off. But the house I rent for her residence still has three months left on the lease.” Lord John approached the bed and she shrank back. Startled, he put up a hand and retreated. “If you live there, no one will know your identity. You will be thought to be Serena if we are careful. We will have time to find you a place, respectable employment.” His eyes beseeched her. “Is that not better than living in this house?”

Madame Vestry’s admonition about accepting an offer of protection resounded in her head. Madame would think her a fool if she did not accept Lord John’s proposal.

Violet nodded. “I won’t really be your mistress?” Hope crept back into her heart. With the help of this lord, surely she could find a place somewhere.

“No, my dear.” His kind smile touched her heart. “I would not so dishonor you, although after our interlude this evening I should, by rights, marry you.”

Appalled at the thought, she shook her head. “Oh, no, my lord. This was not your fault. I lost claim to gentility the moment I set foot in this house.” She drew the sheets tighter around her. Thank God for sending this man to her. “If you can help me find a respectable position, anything at all, you will earn my eternal gratitude.”

His quick smile relieved her of some of the embarrassment of the situation.

“But if you will excuse me, my lord, it will only take me a moment to dress and get my things.” She paused and looked pointedly at the door.

Averting his eyes, he nodded and left.

Violet tossed back the covers and threw on her clothes. Madame Vestry had instructed her in the art of swiftly disrobing and enrobing. At least one part of her training would be put to good use tonight.

After joining Lord John outside the green room, Violet led the way upstairs. Five minutes saw her things gathered, and with her thin cloak over her shoulders, she followed her rescuer down the shadowy staircase, once again trying to ignore the bawdy noises swirling around her. Whoever Lord John was, he could not lead her into a worse hell than this one.

They arrived outside Madame Vestry’s office door, and he ushered her in.

Tonight Madame was dressed for a party in the guise of Aphrodite, goddess of love, draped in layers of sheer fabric. The woman’s ebony eyebrows rose as they entered, but her self-satisfied smile made Violet suspect she was not surprised to see them.

“Your business is concluded so swiftly, my lord? Did Cassandra not please you?” She turned her enigmatic face from the tall man to Violet.