Authors: Delilah Marvelle
Tags: #Romance, #History, #Erotica, #French Revolution, #Historical Romance
Love made one stupid for life.
Not wanting to get emotional about a past that no longer mattered, Thérèse set her chin and nonchalantly added, “Although I did have some assistance from the lovely widow, Lady Chartwell. The woman fondly shares my vision of educating men.”
Those blue eyes widened.
Thérèse knew her granddaughter well enough to say, “You are not pleased, I see.”
Not good. The girl would end up going to Egypt using money they did not have and she would be left alone with nothing more than a garret full of items she refused to sell and a bunch of British men who knew nothing about life or women. No and no.
Thérèse wandered back toward the bureau, setting the advertisement onto it. She tilted her head to one side and centered the parchment before her as if she were straightening a painting. “London has always been so boring compared to Paris. I am used to more excitement. More passion. As you know, I have long sworn off my occupation and sadly, have no great- grandchildren to occupy my time. What is worse, you and I have completely different interests. A pile of old rocks set upon endless hot sand is nothing short of torture. I am too delicate for such things.” She hoped the pity-me routine would make the girl stay. Money aside, she would miss her.
“No one forced you to stay in London,” Maybelle argued in exasperation. “You
chose
to stay here. Furthermore, I won’t have you calling the pyramids a pile of old rocks. They are amazing historic monuments worthy of genuine fascination. I’ve already postponed my trip four times because of you and every time I was forced to pay my designated traveling companion ten pounds despite the fact I never traveled anywhere.” Maybelle grudgingly crossed her arms over her chest, crinkling the bodice of her morning gown. “So what is it that you want this time? Aside from great-grandchildren.”
The girl knew her all too well. “
Want
? What would make you think that I want anything?” The only thing she wanted was enough money to ensure her granddaughter could
eventually
go to Egypt in style. She knew the dear had her heart set on it and going to Egypt with barely a few measly pounds in one’s pockets would be no different than sentencing the girl to months of licking the sand she was so excited about seeing.
Maybelle narrowed her gaze. “You know exactly how I feel about these things, which is why you are trying to leverage this against me. Otherwise, you would have never told me. You would have waited until I left England and
then
opened the school.”
Not true. “I am not trying to leverage anything. The advertisements have long been sent and the townhouse rented. It is done,
ma chére
. Classes begin next week. And in the end, I confess that the most difficult aspect was having to choose only four out of the thirty who originally enlisted.”
Maybelle paused. “You are renting out an
entire
townhouse to host only
four
men?”
If Thérèse could stop being so soft-hearted and actually take the money she needed from these desperate men, yes. The problem was she actually wanted to help these poor aristocratic bastards knowing they were needy enough to turn to a woman for advice.
It made her pity them. Some of them even reminded her of Andelot. Pieces of him. One had scarred hands like Andelot. Another wore a queue like her Andelot had, despite it long being out of style. Each and every one of these men made her realize she could do some good given all the bad her reputation had brought.
“
Oui
, but it is only temporary,” Thérèse finally offered. “Until I regulate the schedule and coordinate the lesson plans. As time goes on, I will add more men. Which of course will mean more work. It will require more teachers. More hosts. More toys.” This was just the beginning of a lucrative new career that would not require sex or relationships from her. Merely talk of sex and relationships. It was genius.
Thérèse eyed her granddaughter, hoping she could recruit the girl for a few months until their finances were what they needed to be. “You would not consider staying and becoming a hostess for a few months, would you?” She bit back a knowing smile and playfully chided, “Though we should qualify you more by dispensing of your virginity.”
Maybelle gasped. “I believe you are the only grandmother in the history of England to ever say such a thing to her granddaughter. That aside, do you even realize what you’ll be promoting by opening such a school? Do you?”
Thérèse let a full smile appear and continued to tease, “I will proudly be promoting the pleasure of all my fellow women who are fortunate enough to come across my
étudiants
.”
Maybelle lowered her chin but did not break their gaze. “No. You will proudly be promoting the idea that women are poodles and should be petted at will.”
Thérèse tsked, puckering her lips. “
Ma chére
. If a man knows nothing about seduction, the courtship becomes merely
poom-poom
. Animal copulation. And it is the woman who suffers, for a man can always find pleasure. But a woman? Not so. We cannot keep men from the conquests they seek, but we can educate the lust-ridden fools and in turn benefit,
oui
?”
A withering look appeared. “All right. Name your price.”
Thérèse paused. “Price? You mean for the school?” It varied depending on what these men could or could not afford but… “I agreed on one hundred pounds per week.”
Another gasp escaped her granddaughter. “
One hundred pounds per week
?” she squeaked. “For mere advice? Are they mad?”
No. They were desperate. Like her. “It is a very respectable price. Understand that an experienced
demimondaine
such as myself could actually demand much more.”
Maybelle sighed. “
Grand-mére
, please. I will gladly bargain with you, if need be, but for heaven’s sake, you must close the school before you become an even bigger celebrity of the wrong sort.”
Why did no one share in her vision of educating men when it came to relationships? They all needed it. They all seemed to think their money and good looks would save them. Not that her granddaughter understood. The girl avoided men at every turn and sometimes Thérèse blamed herself for it. She had spent too many years educating the girl about life, sex and men and apparently had
over-educated
her.
Her own past aside, she wanted great-grandchildren. At least ten of them. Was that too much to ask for, given her days of ever having a bigger family were at an end? Her own family back in France, rot them all, right down to her ten brothers, had abandoned her when her finances ran out, joining the rest of the world in accusing her of immoral ways.
It was her and Maybelle now.
“I will not bargain for the school
but
--” Thérèse paused, then turned toward her. “I will bargain for the money you wish to travel with. Since I still hold all the purse strings.” Purse strings that had long frayed and let the purse hit the floor. She had been spoiling her granddaughter and buying the girl everything and anything she wanted since she first met the glorious little, rambunctious thing.
Finances aside, Thérèse had only ever been truly broken twice. When she was forced to let Gérard go to save him and when her own son, Henri, had hied off to England at fifteen, unable to accept what it was she had to do to enable them to survive. Her ability to save those she loved seemed only possible when she let them go. And when her beloved Henri had succumbed to illness and died, leaving behind a daughter after he had married so incredibly young, she sought to do everything right by ensuring she protected the girl. Maybelle was all she had left and yet even that would soon be gone given the girl was clearly intent on travelling as opposed to giving her great-grandchildren.
There were good men out there. Her Gérard had been one of them.
Maybe it was time to insist. Before she ended up completely alone. “Once,
ma chére
. It is all I ask.”
Maybelle lifted both brows. “Once what?”
The subject of the girl’s abstinence needed to be touched upon. “I have taught you everything I know, and yet here you are at one and twenty, and have only kissed one man. Why?”
“I did
not
kiss that man,” Maybelle sternly corrected, holding up a rigid finger and shaking it. “He kissed me.”
This was definitely a problem. That disinterest seemed to only grow.
Thérèse sighed. “I do not understand. You have no intentions of ever marrying, and yet you hold onto your virginity as if it were worth a dowry. A woman’s innocence is only valued by men. The moment you dispense of it, you take your first step toward freedom. Your first step toward ensuring you do not belong to anyone but yourself.”
“Yes. I am well aware of that.”
“Then what is the problem?” Maybe the girl was…? “Do you prefer women? Hm?”
Maybelle’s cheeks flushed. “I want it to be memorable, is all. I want to look upon a man and say to myself,
oh, yes, I’ll bed that one please
. Besides. You know the
ton
. They keep all the titled, good-looking men to themselves and give us their horrid remnants no one else wants.”
Pausing before her, Thérèse shook her head almost pitifully. “You think the
ton
is keeping the good men away? Pffff. The
ton
has no power over us. We are our own government which no man rules.
We
define ourselves. And that is why I am asking
you
to define yourself. Without the
ton’s
ridiculous restrictions. I say, storm the Season. Claim the man of your choosing and enjoy life. Perhaps then you would not be so horribly tense.”
Maybelle glared. “Horribly tense? Need I remind you, we cannot even attend social gatherings unless they’re being hosted at a brothel.”
Everyone was a pundit these days. “You, Maybelle, are my granddaughter. As such, you have the ability to place every man at your feet. Make a name for yourself, and the sort of men you want will come by the dozen.”
“
Grand-mére
, I am not interested in becoming a
demimondaine
. Life is difficult enough with you being one.”
Thérèse tried not to whine. “But you have the makings of greatness.”
“Greatness indeed. I learned from Papa long ago never to overextend myself to anyone as it leads to very bad things. Surely, you remember how obsessed he was with Mama. And she’d been dead for twelve years.”
“Henri was born a romantic.” Like his father. “What can I say.” Thérèse sighed, reached out and took hold of Maybelle’s hands, squeezing them tightly. “Have I returned to being a
demimondaine
after becoming your guardian?
Non
. Yet why is it men continue to roll at my feet, begging to be patted at any cost? Because I cannot escape the name I have created. Nor do I want to. I enjoy sex.” And passion. She had a great teacher.
Maybelle released her hands, shook her head and stepped back. “I will not watch you destroy whatever integrity London has left by teaching all the men how to take advantage of women. It is not right.”
Thérèse lowered her voice. “I will tell you what is not right, Maybelle. Because of who I wish to be, because of who I have always been, I have not only sent my son to an early grave, but am now forcing his child to flee from me in the same manner he did. I know what will happen once you leave today. You will not return. You will disappear from my life. As Henri did.” As his father had. Of course, she had wanted it that way. For him.
Maybelle’s pretty features softened. She took hold of Thérèse’s shoulders and squeezed them gently, assuredly. “I would never abandon you. Ever. Seeing the pyramids is a dream of mine. You know that. And the way that Ferlini man is going about destroying them, there may very well be nothing left for me to see. You’ve read the papers. He is damn well smashing tops off pyramids and plundering tombs wherever he goes.”
How was she going to tell the girl they couldn’t afford the trip? Thérèse pinched her lips together, her eyes now burning with tears. Tears she hadn’t cried since she threw herself at her son’s bedside while he lay dying.
Blinking back tears that threatened to fall, Thérèse pulled away and sniffed. She fingered the emerald bracelets she had on, bracelets given to her by Lady Madeleine who had gone on to marry a Persian prince, but knew they wouldn’t fetch enough. She would have to sell the diamonds and pearls Gérard had given her when she was the girl’s age. It would allow her Maybelle to travel to her heart’s content and be abroad for however long she wanted to be.
Which could be a long time. Maybe she would meet a man and never come back.
Waving a hand, Thérèse eventually muttered, “Go. Follow your heart, your love. I will pay for everything and manage the school on my own. You will see.”
There was a moment of silence.
After a moment, Maybelle announced, “I will stay for two months. But only two months.”
Bless you for loving me.
Two months would allow her to gather enough funds without selling the diamonds or pearls. Oh, how she loved the girl! This girl had shown her the one thing she had failed to learn in her lifetime. That mercy and forgiveness equaled real love.
Turning back toward her, Thérèse half-clapped, unable to contain her joy. “Two months will be
magnifique
! You will join me at the school on opening day,
oui
? Aside from all the men you will meet, I have countless rooms filled with all sorts of treasures and adventures.”
Maybelle pointed. “Let us not get carried away. I am not interested in school-boys learning how to please a woman. I know more than the basics thanks to you. Understand,
Grand-mére
, that the trouble with most men, even the experienced ones, is that they are forever seeking out attachments and are for the most part quite possessive. Albeit in different forms, but it all ends the same. If it isn’t a wife they require, it is a mistress, and if it isn’t a mistress, it is some other form of convention they ultimately define in their own terms. Which is why I see absolutely no point in pursuing a single one of them.”