Regency High Society Vol 7: A Reputable Rake / The Heart's Wager / The Venetian's Mistress / The Gambler's Heart. Diane GastonЧитать онлайн книгу.
her origins.
‘I was not always Madame Bisou,’ she began in the spellbinding voice of a practised story-teller. ‘I was born Penny Jones, and my mother died giving birth to me. As a child I walked at my father’s side while he hawked dirty old clothes on Petticoat Lane. “Old clo,” he’d cry over and over. “Old clo.”’ She looked heavenward. ‘I can still remember it. Hearing the other street vendors’ songs all day as well as my father’s. I used to sing them myself and dance, and passers-by would throw me pennies. Pennies for Penny.’ Her smile left her face. ‘It was not long before men paid for more than my dancing.’ She gave them all a significant look. ‘By day I’d follow my father in the street and by night in the pubs, until one night he had no more coins for his gin.’ Her voice got very low and Morgana could see each of the girls and Miss Moore, too, straining to hear. ‘That night he sold me to a man in the pub for a few shillings. I never saw my father again.’
‘That’s dastardly,’ cried Katy. ‘What happened next?’
Madame Bisou gave a ghost of a smile. ‘The man sold me at a profit to a bawdy house. After he had his way with me, that is. He sold me to a mean old abbess who beat her girls if they gave her any trouble. She kept all the money.’
There was a collective exclamation of outrage, and the madam went on to tell how she fooled the procuress and wound up with enough money and power to take over the house and drive the woman away.
Katy and Rose cheered with enthusiasm at this triumph.
Madame Bisou looked each of the girls in the eye. ‘I know how to get gents willing to die for me,’ she said dramatically. ‘And that is what I will teach you. I’ll show you how to make them beg to do what you want them to do. I’ll teach you how to trick them into paying you much more than they thought they would. And how to have them stumble over each other to see who can buy you the biggest ring, the most expensive necklace or the most beautiful bracelet.’
Morgana was as mesmerised by the tale as the others, but she could not think of any gift she would want from a man, no dragon he could slay for her, no bauble he could purchase. Still, being such a temptress would be heady stuff indeed.
Cripps knocked on the door and announced Sloane, who entered the room to collect Madame Bisou. Katy and Rose begged her to stay longer. She laughed, saying she would return very soon. None the less, they detained her with more questions.
Sloane leaned over to Morgana. ‘How did she do?’
Morgana looked into his smoky grey eyes. ‘She told us the terrible story of how she came to be as she is today.’
‘The terrible story?’ The corners of his eyes crinkled. It so distracted her, she forgot what she’d just said to him.
‘Oh—yes.’ She swallowed. ‘You know, how her father sold her for a pint of gin.’
His eyes shone. ‘It is a hum, Morgana. Penny was an innkeeper’s daughter who found life too tame and struck out on her own. I suspect her father still owns his pub somewhere in Chelsea and makes a fine living.’
Morgana burst out laughing, holding her hand over her mouth so the others would not heed her. ‘Oh, she is splendid, Sloane. She had us all completely at her mercy. I think Mary had tears in her eyes. If she can fool us, then she must know how to fool men!’
His expression changed to a stern one. ‘Is that what you desire, Miss Hart? To fool men?’
She was too happy to allow him to scowl at her. She mimicked the madam’s low, attention-capturing cadence, as well as her accent. ‘Yes, it is, Sloane. We must fool some very rich men into giving all their money, n’est pas? And then toss them away, keeping all their money in our pockets.’
Not only was he not amused, he looked thunderous. ‘Do you wish to become a courtesan as well, Morgana?’
She responded to his grimace with a saucy smile.
Madame Bisou hurried to his side. ‘Are you ready, Cyprian?’ She batted her lashes at him. Morgana’s eyes narrowed.
Sloane took Morgana’s hand and leaned into her face. ‘Do not jest with me, Morgana. Are you planning to become a courtesan?’
The clasp of his hand felt angry, but the contact was every bit as affecting as the day before.
She raised her eyes to his, suddenly serious. ‘Do you jest, Sloane? What man would think me a courtesan?’
His eyes filled with heat and she felt his thumb caress her palm. He did not answer her. ‘Good day, Miss Hart,’ he said.
She did not immediately release his hand when he began to pull away. His expression turned quizzical.
She said, ‘I hope your dinner goes well tonight, Sloane.’
‘My dinner?’ He looked startled. ‘The dinner with Heronvale, do you mean?’
She nodded and opened her fingers so his hand slipped out of hers.
He lightly brushed her arm. ‘Thank you for thinking of it.’
Madame Bisou, née Penny Jones, entwined her arm in his. ‘Come, Cyprian.’ She swept him out of the door.
Morgana lightly fingered her palm and her arm where the memory of his touch still lingered.
Chapter Ten
If Sloane had led a double life in the past, he now had tripled himself. He continued to play the gentleman for the ton, the possible suitor for Lady Hannah, the wealthy fellow who put in appearances at White’s and talked politics with the Marquess of Heronvale. At night, after the ton’s elegant routs and balls, he slipped into the shadows, returning often to Mrs Rice’s glove shop, keeping his eyes and ears open to possible danger from that quarter. To Mrs Rice’s mounting rage, her lackeys had made no progress in finding her missing girls or in discovering the ladylike woman who had snatched the pretty maid from her grasp. Sloane would remain watchful, however, just in case.
During these past three weeks it had also become his practice to often look in on the courtesan school. He kept an eye on Penny, lest she be tempted to go back on her word not to exploit Morgana. He imposed his intimidating presence on the taciturn Cripps, to ensure the butler kept the servants in line. Sloane watched Morgana as well, in case he need rein her in from some risky exploit that might expose the whole affair.
It had become his habit to breakfast with Morgana and her girls, the most pleasant part of his day. The courtesan school, scandalous as it might be, was a relief from the crushing boredom that permeated the rest of his time. Sometimes Elliot joined him at Morgana’s, as he did this day. Penny had requested they both assist the girls in her special dancing lessons. Both men slipped through the gap in the garden wall and entered Morgana’s house unseen.
The formality of being announced long abandoned, they made their way straight to the dining parlour and entered to a chorus of good mornings. Morgana’s grandmother’s eyes lit up. ‘How lovely of you to call.’
‘Men at last,’ exclaimed Katy, who nearly thrust her chest under Elliot’s nose before Miss Moore pulled her into a chair.
Katy complained loudly. ‘I’m tired of seeing only old Cripps. He’s given the footmen such a lecture they run and hide when they see us!’
Sloane was greatly heartened that Cripps had been so cruel to poor Katy.
‘You must remember, men are to throw themselves at you, not you at them,’ Miss Moore told her. ‘You are better than that, Miss Green.’
Sloane frowned as he and Elliot filled their plates. Morgana often said those words to the girls. You are better than that. For all Morgana’s wide-eyed plans, he knew too well the world would not treat them so.
Elliot chose a chair at the far end of the table where