The Price of Desire (23 page)

He looked once more at the invitation, carefully reading the address neatly written at the top of the card. Then he looked again at the street number in gold numerals placed beside the entrance before him. This had to be the place.

A small brass bell announced his presence as he opened the door and stepped inside.

With an uncharacteristic lack of confidence, he patted his coat pocket for the hundredth time, feeling the slim envelope that contained his offer to Caroline. A meager offer, for sure, but it was all he had.

It was, he thought without any hope whatsoever, his last chance to win her back.

A young serving girl in a clean and well-pressed gown of quality cotton approached him. “A table for one, sir? We have chops for a good price, if you’re wanting a bite to eat.” She was definitely better turned out than he would have expected in a simple coffeehouse in this part of town.

“I am here to see Mrs. Erskine.” At her inquiring look, he held the card before him so the girl could read it. “I have an invitation.”

The girl barely glanced at it. “You’ll be one of Miss Clemens’s gentlemen, then. Please follow me, sir.”

He followed close on her heels, wanting to have this affair tidied away as soon as could be. As much as he might wish to, he could not change the course of events now. He would make his offer, Caroline would make her choice, and he would return to his dingy rooms, alone.

He would not torment himself with vain hopes that she would choose him. His heart had already broken once—he was not sure he could survive it breaking anew.

The serving woman ushered him through a door, down a dim hallway, and into another room at the end.

Standing about on the rug in the middle were a round dozen other men, all of them older than he, looking at each other uneasily and making no attempt at conversation. As he entered, they all turned to glare at him as if one.

These were the other suitors, then. His rivals.

He eyed them with distaste. Before the night was out, one of them would be instated as Caroline’s new protector, with all the rights over her person that the position entailed. Whichever one it was, he hated him already. The man could not possibly deserve her.

None of them were Caroline’s type. They were fat, for starters, and smelled of stale tobacco smoke.

Nonetheless they had the aura of superiority around them that only rich men can have. He bet none of them were self-made like him, or had even so much as done an honest day’s work in their lives. Overweight, old money pratts, the lot of them.

Having dismissed the men as unworthy of his Caroline, he turned his attention to the room. The paintings on the walls were highly erotic, of men and women in various positions and poses. The overt sexuality of the room made his skin prickle with a fine sheen of sweat. He ran one finger around his collar to loosen it.

An older woman approached him from the far end, sweeping forward in her long skirts with a regal air. “Good day, Mr. Savage. I am delighted to see you were able to attend our little auction after all. If you will please give me your proposal, I shall begin the evening’s activities very shortly. I believe all my expected guests have now arrived.”

Dominic handed over his envelope with an inward sigh of despair. He knew right now his offer could not possibly match those of the other gentlemen in the room. Indeed, he did not even know why he had changed his mind at the last moment and decided to attend after all, except that he could not bear the idea that Caroline would walk out of his life for good without him even reaching out a single finger to stop her.

Mrs. Erskine placed his envelope along with the others on a silver tray that rested on a nearby sideboard.

Dominic stood away from the others and made no attempt to introduce himself. He was in no mood to make idle conversation with his rivals.

A young woman entered the room and walked confidently across the rug to retrieve the silver tray holding the envelopes.

Dominic’s eyes followed her every movement, as did those of the other men in the room. It was the same woman who had greeted him at the door, but she was no longer dressed as a serving girl. Indeed, although fully clothed, she was barely dressed at all.

She wore a long silver dress that clung to her slim figure, revealing every curve she possessed. A plunging neckline displayed most of her bosom, while at the back a split showed off the entire length of her legs as she walked. As she left the room she gave the assembled men a shy smile before departing with the tray and his last chance to win the heart of Caroline Clemens.

There was a brief, awkward shuffling silence before Mrs. Erskine took control of the proceedings once again. “Gentlemen, I thank you for your presence here this evening. As you will surmise, Miss Clemens is now examining your offers. She will consider them as she pleases. She is under no obligation to decide on her new protector tonight, but she may well do so. Either way, she has undertaken to give us at the least a preliminary response within half an hour as to those offers she is seriously considering. Until then I have arranged for a little entertainment for you. This coffeehouse is well regarded in certain circles for the quality of our entertainment.” Her last sentence was delivered with a smile and a knowing look at several of the men in the room.

Caroline stood in a small side room looking with trepidation at the papers arrayed before her. One of these would set the direction for the next few years of her life. Such a small token, and yet so packed with fate.

One of Mrs. Erskine’s girls had opened the envelopes and spread the offers over a large desk, the names of the proposers hidden on the underside.

The instructions for the preparation of an offer included a clear statement that the name of the proposer was to be on the reverse side of the offer itself so that she could decide on a new protector without bias. For once in her life she wanted to make a decision based on logic and reason, not on emotion. As a true courtesan, she would take the man who offered her the best deal, whether she found him personally attractive or not. One man’s money was as good as another’s.

Before she examined the detail of the offers, she couldn’t resist a peek into the lounge to gain an idea of what would be in store for her in the years to come.

Focusing through a small spy hole, she peered at a small group of overweight men, most of whom were enveloped in a haze of evil blue cigar smoke. And they all had faces covered in various styles of itchy whiskers.

A grim set to her mouth, she realized the prospects of a handsome man, of a kind and strong man, even of a clean-shaven man, didn’t look good.

No matter, the choice would be easier if all her prospects were equally unappealing. She would end up with a man whose best asset would be his wealth. That was all she had left to care about now.

Dominic, standing apart from the other men, watched as they turned as one man to look at the two young women who had taken up center stage on the rug. From the corner of the room another woman began to play a sensuous piece on the piano to which the other two danced.

He watched idly as they moved, their loose clothes flowing like grasses in the wind, every so often allowing a hint of nipple or a lithe leg to be exposed.

They moved together briefly, each removing a silk scarf from the other, allowing even more of their nakedness to be seen.

With his fate out of his control, Dominic had no stomach for such shallow dalliances. His mind was absorbed by the fact that Caroline was nearby, with a goodly choice of offers to consider.

And of course one dismal offer. His.

What a fool he’d been to even bother to come. What he offered, Caroline could get anywhere. There was nothing special about him.

Angrily, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

Caroline examined the offers as they lay on the table, trying to relate each to the men in the adjacent room. Most of them were superficially similar in appearance, with densely packed script and columns of figures. It was if they had been written from the same boilerplate by the same lawyer or accountant.

One, however, caught her eye with its difference. The script was larger and untidy, with a few paragraphs and not a hint of arithmetic to be seen. She started to read.

It is not fire

But it burns the body

It is not a weapon

But it pierces the heart

It is my love for you, and it is everything I have to offer.

With a gasp, she fell back, the words like a physical blow. She did not need to read any further. None of the men she had spied in the room could have written that. She knew of only one who could have done so. Rushing back to the peephole, she peered once more into the room beyond.

It was the movement that caught her eye. Beyond the near-naked girls who danced around the leering men, a lean figure was striding to the door. Dominic! Despite the unnatural hunch to his shoulders, she would recognize his figure anywhere.

Damn logic and reason, and damn the money! Her estate would be enough to keep both of them in comfort. And if it wasn’t, well, she would rather be poor with Dominic by her side than be a wealthy woman without him.

With a rush that scattered the papers to the floor, she fled the room and down the hallway, desperate that he should not leave before she could see him.

Dominic found himself once more in the coffeehouse proper.

“A table, sir?”

With a moment’s consideration he slumped into his coat. There was nothing here for him, yet there was nothing beyond the door, either. He might as well gather his strength before leaving. “Yes, a table please, and a chop and a coffee to go with it.”

Sitting at the table, he picked up an old copy of
The Times,
idly perusing the financial section. His latest venture had been a success, and he was looking for a new opportunity. Not that it would do him any good, seeing as he’d left all that he most wanted behind the door he had just shut.

Caroline burst into the coffeehouse, breathless after her flight from the room and the rush down the hallway. The eating room was empty save for a man reading a newspaper, his identity hidden behind the large broadsheet.

Catching her breath, she walked slowly over to the lone diner. “I always loved to listen to your voice when you recited poetry.”

She reached out, took the newspaper, and looked into the eyes of the man she loved.

Dominic felt as if he were frozen to the chair. She was there, in front of him. Caroline.

After a long moment he found his voice. “And I always loved to listen to the beating of your heart, knowing the courage that lay inside.”

His own heart hammered inside his chest as he waited for what she would say next.

Caroline did not keep him waiting long. Laying one hand on top of his, she looked straight into his eyes. “I love you, Dominic,” she said. “And I accept your offer.”