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Authors: Elise de Sallier

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“Sir?”

“You adore her little girl as much as she did.” He gave Nathaniel a fatherly pat before
turning towards the stairs. “She would have approved of you, as do I, though if I
catch my daughter asleep in your lap again before the wedding, I doubt I’ll be so
obliging.”

“Papa!” Lisa ducked her head.

“Good night, Nathaniel.” Her father chuckled as he made his slow but steady way up
the stairs. “I’ll expect Anneliese at the top of the landing in five minutes.”

“Thank you, sir, and good night.” Nathaniel called after him before guiding Lisa into
the shadows.

“Nathaniel, the footmen might see.” Her rebuke was made halfheartedly, as she moulded
the curves of her body to his muscular planes.

“They’re all looking the other way. Or they should be.”

“Whatever you say,” she murmured, as his mouth urgently sought hers.

“Dream of me tonight?” he asked after they reluctantly drew apart. Lisa’s cheeks warmed,
and Nathaniel quizzed his brow. “That’s right. You’re yet to tell me the contents
of your shocking
dream.”

“I’m not sure I should.”

“What has you so afraid? Have I not reassured you sufficiently?”

Lisa huffed out a breath. “In my dream, you said the reason I enjoyed what we did,
or rather, what you did
to
me, is because I am wanton. It was obvious you believed me wicked
.

Nathaniel shook his head. “Lisa, you don’t have a wicked bone in your body. You’re
one of the most compassionate and caring individuals I know.” He bent down so she
couldn’t avoid his gaze. “And as for wanton, you’re a passionate woman, which is wonderful
in my book.”

“You say that now.” She frowned. “But if I tell you about my dream, I fear your good
opinion of me will be lost.”

Nathaniel’s brows disappeared behind his fringe. “It’s that
scandalous?”

Lisa nodded warily.

“More so than the things I made you do at Worthington?”

She bit her lip.

“Tell me . . .” He drew her tightly against him before releasing her at the sound
of her father clearing his throat above them. “. . . later. Or your father might see
to it I’m incapable of reenacting your dream. Is that something that might interest
you,
after
we’re wed, of course?”

Picturing herself dressed in a maid’s uniform and bent over Nathaniel’s desk, Lisa’s
internal response was a resounding “Yes.” But she kept her answer noncommittal.

“We’ll see.”

Nathaniel groaned and swayed on his feet. “How many weeks until the wedding?”

“Only six.” Lisa smiled, though a month and a half had never seemed quite so long.

Chapter 13

Promise

“Edgeley’s made a move.” Hugh drew Nathaniel aside at the Earl of Bradogan’s ball
a few days after Nathaniel and Lisa’s betrothal has been announced in all the papers.

“In what way?”

“He paid a street urchin to give me this when I rode up. It’s addressed to you.”

Nathaniel broke the seal on the letter and opened it.

Unless you want the world to know the truth about your lovely Miss Brown, you shall
pay me one hundred pounds. I owe a debt at Wetherby’s and look forward to it being
cleared.

E

“Damnation.” Nathaniel passed the note to Hugh.

“The amount isn’t onerous, but I’m betting it’s by way of an instalment. What are
you going to do?”

“Since I can’t call him out, and cold-blooded murder isn’t an option, I imagine I
shall pay.” Nathaniel’s hands formed fists as he struggled to keep his fury from erupting.

“For how long?”

“Until I can find something to silence him with, preferably for good.” Nathaniel’s
gaze sought Lisa’s in the crowd. As the “must have” invitee on everyone’s guest lists,
she’d received a mountain of invitations after the King’s ball. With Copeland still
at large, the rakes of the
ton
waiting to take advantage of her given the slightest opportunity, and now this new
threat, Nathaniel had no intention of letting her out of his sight. At least now that
they were betrothed he was able to protect her in a more socially acceptable manner
than the method he had chosen at Worthington.

 
 

“What do you mean Rebecca and I can’t
visit a charity home?” Lisa asked when Nathaniel made his announcement a week after
their betrothal. She’d been sure he understood how important this was to her. “Are
you forbidding us?”

“I don’t have to forbid you.” He crossed his arms. “Young ladies aren’t permitted
entrance into female penitentiaries, which is a good thing. I had one of my men investigate
and, I can assure you, they are not suitable places for you or Rebecca to visit.”

At the lack of apology in Nathaniel’s tone, Lisa’s hurt turned to annoyance. “We’re
probably not even supposed to know they exist.”

“Why ever not?” Rebecca kept her voice low. The two young couples were sitting a little
apart from their elders, the rainy afternoon keeping them all housebound.

“Shall you tell your sister, or shall I?” Lisa turned to Rebecca before Nathaniel
had a chance to respond. “The powers that be don’t want young ladies to discover what
the gentlemen of the
ton
get up to while we are kept in far from blissful ignorance. They’re afraid it might
tarnish our opinions of the men we are supposed to idolise and obey without question.
Am I right, Nathaniel?”

“Something like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Surely some ladies must know of and support these institutions?” Lisa was far from
ready to concede defeat. “Or are we fragile females only allowed to patron socially
acceptable charities while poor, defenceless girls are being snatched from the street?”

“Well, there’s the thing.” Nathaniel shot Hugh an uncomfortable glance. “Not all the
women who reside in these places are of the defenceless variety.”

“What do you mean?” Rebecca frowned. “If they have sought refuge they must be desperate
to return to a life of respectability.”

“One would think so.” Nathaniel puffed out his cheeks, eyeing Lisa warily. “But some
of the women have very poor morals and are coarse in their manner, prone to drink,
swearing, and fits of temper.”

“In other words, they behave exactly like the men who have exploited and abused them.
How unforgivable for members of the fairer sex to demean themselves in such a manner.
No wonder impressionable young ladies such as ourselves must be protected from exposure.
It could incite all manner of rebellion.”

“Anneliese.” Sir George’s scolding tone brought Lisa up short, as she’d heard it so
seldom.

“I’m sorry, Papa.” Her contrition grew when she saw Nathaniel’s grim expression. Things
had been so much better between them, and she feared a return to the brow-beating
that had influenced his treatment of her before their betrothal. “I wasn’t implying
anything of our present company. It’s just frustrating to be thwarted at every turn,”
she said with a sigh.

Lisa’s quiet upbringing had done little to prepare her for the frenzy of a London
Season, particularly one where she was the unexpected main attraction. The endless
round of social engagements with their formal introductions, rigid protocols, and
typically banal conversational topics was wearing on her nerves. The majority of lords
and ladies who sought her company weren’t interested in her as a person but in securing
a prestigious connection—via her supposedly naïve and pliable self—with king, duke,
and marquis. Others were fascinated by the idea of one of their class having masqueraded
as a servant. Lisa was forced to become adept at divulging just enough information
to satisfy their curiosity, while diverting any inappropriate or prurient questioning
about her time on the run from Lord Copeland. Fortunately, not all members of the
supposedly superior class were as shallow in their motivation, and she looked forward
to strengthening ties with a few intelligent and considerate ladies with whom she
had discussed her charitable interests.

Her current concern was whether or not she would ever be able to act on those interests.

“If ladies aren’t supposed to know about these places, who runs them?” Rebecca asked.

“The church,” Nathaniel said, his earlier smugness no longer in evidence.

“That’s right,” Margaret said, joining the conversation. “The ladies who supervise
the care and rehabilitation of the penitents have chosen a life of religious service
over marriage, so it doesn’t matter if they come to despise the entire male gender
in the process.” The gentlemen’s eyebrows rose at the duchess’s wry tone, but none
dared rebuke her. “There are some institutions where matrons of the
ton
are welcomed, but I agree with Nathaniel. They are not suitable for
young
ladies to attend.”

“How grim are they?” Rebecca’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Very,” Nathaniel said. “Enough for me to be grateful neither of you would be permitted
entrance.”

Lisa opened her mouth to argue, but both her father and the duke nodded their agreement,
and she closed it with a sigh.

“I believe what my stepmother is referring to,” Nathaniel continued, “is the practice
some of the institutions employ of opening up their religious services to members
of the
ton
, married ladies included, in exchange for a donation.”

“That doesn’t sound too terrible. Are you positive we couldn’t gain permission to
visit?” Lisa’s hopes rose.

“Positive.” Nathaniel’s lips flattened into a harsh line.

“Nor would you want to.” Margaret shuddered. “I attended one of these services when
Lord Haversham was alive, without his knowledge, of course, in search of a safe refuge
for the girls he mistreated. The audience was kept separated from the ‘fallen women,’
viewing them through screens, while the sermon focused heavily on the sinful nature
of the girls. It made no mention of the men who took advantage of them or paid for
their services, describing the women as ‘libidinous temptresses.’ Nor did it acknowledge
many of them would have been young and unwilling girls when they were forced to their
trade.”

“But that’s dreadful,” Rebecca said.

Margaret nodded. “It’s testament to how desperate the young women are that most are
grateful for the opportunity to escape their previous circumstance, but the method
of delivery did not sit well with me.”

“Nor me,” Lisa whispered, horrified by the tale.

“Now can you understand why I don’t want you visiting such a place?” Nathaniel reached
to clasp her hand.

“Yes, but I want to do more than giving alms, not that I have any desire to support
such a reprehensible system.”

With Nathaniel insisting he would provide her all the jewellery she could ever require
as his marchioness, Lisa had gone through her mother’s cache. After selecting a few
pieces as keepsakes, her father had arranged for the rest of the jewels to be sold,
placing a formidable fortune at Lisa’s disposal, one she was determined to put to
good purpose.

“But what are we going to do if we can’t even visit a charitable home?” Rebecca inched
closer to Hugh’s side. “Father, you were most insistent Lord McGivern must prove his
sincerity in this manner.”

“That was before I discovered what these places are like.”

“I’ll gladly do whatever you require of me, Your Grace.” Hugh addressed Rebecca’s
father who waved a hand dismissively.

“Your willingness is enough . . . for now.”

Hugh and Rebecca exchanged smiles at her father giving his tacit approval. While Lisa
was happy for them, she couldn’t hide her despondency.

“Could we start our own charity?” she asked. “Something run differently to the public
institutions, more like a home or school?”

“It would be a mammoth undertaking.” Her father frowned.

“And not without risk.” Nathaniel squeezed Lisa’s hand, and she returned the pressure.
“Part of the reason the penitentiaries resemble both convent and prison is to keep
the women safe. Their previous employers
don’t take kindly to the loss of income.”

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