Persuading Miss Mary, page 13
He placed his empty glass on his desk and rose from his chair.
He would have his belongings returned from Matlock House tomorrow. He could do without them for one night. What he could not do without, however, was Mary, and therefore, he could not and would not give up his fight to persuade her to consider him. He had to find some way to prove to her that he cared about the things which she held close to her heart – respect, love, and a consciousness that everyone around her was a person with great potential.
He turned back at the door and surveyed his study.
Had she not declared his potential to her cousins? She thought he was capable of being both a man of privilege and duty. Again, he considered how pleased his mother would be by such a thing. It was, after all, what both she and his father had attempted to tell him in their own ways. He would not disappoint any of them further than he had.
He shook his head. What a self-indulgent being he had become! Until this moment, he had not considered his seeking amusement to be a disappointment. He had only ever considered how it gratified his desires.
However, his greatest desire had just hours ago told him that he was not to be the recipient of her pleasures. Her smiles, her teases, her scowls, and her lectures would not be his alone. She was saving them for someone who saw beyond himself. And in that – he blew out a breath as the thought hit him squarely – he had been the cause of his own disappointment.
It was not a permanent disappointment. It could not be. He would not allow it to be, for he would pour every ounce of himself into becoming a gentleman who might be given the opportunity to win Miss Mary Bennet. There would never again be a need for his mother to bar him from his home.
His eyebrows rose, and his mouth popped open. That was it! He would begin with Clarice.
He pulled open the door to this study.
“My horse. I need my horse made ready immediately,” he called to his butler before taking the stairs two at a time. He could not show up at Sally’s in his robe and slippers. A proper suit of clothes was what he needed. He was visiting Clarice as a friend and on business – not for any other purpose or to participate in the usual sorts of things he did when he called on her. This time, they would sit in chairs, fully clothed, and he would listen to her as she talked – if she was both available and willing to talk to him that is.
He rubbed his chin.
She might be otherwise engaged. She had been his exclusively – save for when he had sent Langley to see her – but he had closed his account and severed their arrangement the morning after he had seen his actions through the eyes of Mrs. Salter’s words at that ball. Still, he must take the chance that she would be willing to see him for his ability to win Mary depended upon it.
~*~*~
No more than three-quarters of an hour later, Wes was standing inside Sally’s establishment, considering that this was perhaps the soberest he had ever been when here.
Had the drawing room always smelled so strongly of liquor and cigars? The aroma reminded him quite sharply of his club. He perched on the edge of a chair as he waited to discover if he would be granted access to Clarice.
“My lord,” Sally said as she entered the room.
Wes sprang to his feet.
“I was not expecting to see you again,” Sally continued.
“I did not expect to return,” Wes acknowledged. “However, there is a matter with which I think Clarice can be of service.” He straightened the sleeve of his jacket. He was nervous? That was foolish. There was no need to be nervous. He had been here numerous times, although, he had to admit, it had never been for the reason he was here now.
“That is why my house is here, my lord, to provide service to gentlemen such as yourself.”
Wes shook his head. “I am not looking for that sort of service.”
Sally’s left eyebrow rose in question.
“It has been brought to my attention that young women such as Clarice often turn to providing services such as your establishment does for reasons that are beyond their control.” He shrugged. “This is likely a poor way to discover what I need to know, but I was hoping I might ask Clarice to tell me more about how she came to be here.”
“And why do you need to know this?”
The image of a stern but beautiful young lady came to mind, and Wes smiled. “It has also been brought to my attention that I am a lord and with my title comes a responsibility to all those who live in England.”
Sally looked amused.
“And…” Wes’s heart was racing. How he hoped no one would walk in on this discussion. He was certain that he would become the source of many a good jest if another gentleman was to hear him right now.
“And?” Sally echoed when Wes paused.
“And this person who had informed me of these things is particularly concerned about the plight of disadvantaged females.”
Sally’s eyes were fairly dancing with mirth. “And does this young lady have a name?”
“I am not certain she would want me to share it here,” Wes replied.
Sally chuckled. “I would imagine she would not. So, is this young lady the reason for your termination of our business arrangement?”
“Yes.”
“A future Lady Westonbury?” Sally pressed.
“If I can ever persuade her to have me.”
Again, Sally chuckled. “Is she not swayed by your title, my lord?”
“Not a whit.”
“Years ago, I met a young woman who was determined to marry only a gentleman with good and honorable intentions. She was delightful, and I have lately come to learn she succeeded in her quest.” She motioned for Wes to follow her as a gentleman of about fifty years of age entered the drawing room.
“Sir.” Sally greeted him with a nod of her head. “I am certain that Clarice will be happy to be of service.” She waved at the stairs. “You know the way.” She winked. “And I’ll not even charge you for your time.”
Wes chuckled, thanked her, and scooted up the stairs. Two crates stood one atop the other in the hallway next to Clarice’s open door.
“Are you going on a journey?” Wes asked when he entered her room.
“I am.” Clarice, dressed in a simple blue gown with a cap on her head, stood on a stool, pulling things from the shelf in her wardrobe. “One from which I am not returning.” She stepped down from her perch and placed the things she held in an open trunk on her bed. “I was not expecting you, but if you will give me a moment to change –”
“I am not here for sex.”
Clarice turned slowly from her trunk to face him. “You are not?”
Wes shook his head. “I was hoping you could tell me somewhat about yourself and how you came to be here.”
A furrow formed between her dark brown eyes. “Why? I am not looking for a suitor, my lord. If I have given you any indication that I might care for you beyond how one cares for a friend, I must apologize.”
Wes shook his head. “I love Mary.”
Clarice blinked.
“I met her when I went to see that my brother was still living.”
“And is he?”
“Yes, yes. He is, though he was severely injured and may never have the full use of one of his eyes again, but he is, thankfully, living. In fact, he is going to be getting married as soon as his lady and my mother are satisfied that he has recovered enough.”
“That is excellent news.” She motioned to the two chairs near her hearth. When he was seated, she took her seat. “May I ask why you wish to know about me if you love another?”
Wes settled back into his chair and contemplated how best to answer that.
“You look besotted,” Clarice said with a small giggle.
“I am completely lost to her, Clarice. She is not like any lady I have ever met before.” He leaned forward, his attention fully focused on explaining Mary to Clarice. “She is demanding. She scolds and scowls – quite prettily, I must say – but her heart is good. She cares so deeply for so many things.” He exhaled. How he longed to be one of the things about which Mary was passionate.
“She scolds you?” Clarice sounded flabbergasted by the thought.
Wes nodded. “Most severely when we first met, though less so now. It does not matter to her that I have a title. She still expects me to be honorable.”
“Indeed?”
Again, Wes nodded. “She equates my having had a mistress with a lack of respect for women. Of course, that also has something to do with the fact that I offered to pay her sisters for kisses when I first met them – however, in my defense, I did not know they were her sisters. I did not even know who she was at that time.”
Clarice smiled as tears glistened in her eyes. “I think I would like her.”
“You would?” Wes asked in surprise. He could not conceive how what he had shared about Mary would move Clarice to tears.
Clarice nodded. “It was a hatred for gentlemen who disrespect ladies which brought me here.”
Wes gaped. How…?
“I know the two do not seem to mesh, my lord, but here, I know the sorts of men I might see. They are here to be pleasured no matter who might be waiting for them at home. I know what is expected of me when a gentleman arrives at my door.” She sighed. “I could have become a governess or a maid or some other such thing rather than a courtesan, but I have seen how some men expect more than a cleaned room or a child’s instruction from girls in their employ.” Her expression grew sad. “And I know the look of pain on the lady’s face when she discovers her husband has begun dallying with others.” She shook her head. “I know that my thinking is not without its flaws, but to me, it seemed that being a lady of the night for a time was the best way to retain my power.”
“Do you hate me?”
She shook her head. “You do not have a wife and children at home. Again, I know that some would condemn me for my thoughts.”
“But if I had a wife and children, you would loathe me?”
“It would make it more challenging to take you to bed if you did.”
Wes sank back in his chair. “I assume there are reasons for all of this.”
Clarice nodded and looked away. “My father. My uncle. Several of my father’s friends. Even the gentleman to whom my father tried to betroth me.”
“Will you tell me about it? I need to know if there is any way I can help better the lives of women.”
“For her? For Mary?”
“Yes. Please. I do not wish to live without her.”
Clarice smiled. “And you are done with places such as this?”
“Forever.”
“Very well, if that is the case, then I will tell you.”
For the next hour, Wes listened and questioned as Clarice told of a father who visited courtesans and carried home disease to his wife and several maids. She told him about how her uncle paid her cousin’s governess to take a concoction to dispose of a suspected by-blow. She was not supposed to know about that, but she had discovered it when her father was entertaining, and she had overheard a conversation around a billiard table. The gentleman, who her father had been promoting to her, was a member of that party and had joined in the general laughter over the governess being indisposed for several weeks and in need of persuasion to continue her clandestine meetings with her employer.
All in all, by the end of the hour, Wes as disgusted with the behaviour of some men as Clarice was. None of the stories were particularly shocking or out of the ordinary, but when told altogether and seen through the eyes of a woman, they took on a new shade – one which was not at all of a pleasing colour.
When their discussion drew to an end, Wes rose. “I thank you for opening my understanding. I am not certain what can be done, but I now understand the need.”
Clarice extended her hand to him. “I wish you good fortune and joy with Mary.”
Wes moved toward the door, and Clarice followed.
“I need to see Sally about something,” she explained when he looked back at her.
“Where are you going?” he asked while they descended the steps.
“I cannot say. However, I will tell you that I have always wished to have a tearoom, and your generous gift has provided what I need to make a go of it.”
“I wish you prosperity.”
They had just reached the bottom of the stairs when the door before them opened, and the lady who entered gasped.
“Mary!” Wes cried as he flew to her when she stumbled backward at seeing him.
Chapter 19
Mary wrung her hands as she sat in the carriage. “This is a very bad idea.”
“It is not the best. I will give you that,” Colonel Fitzwilliam agreed. “It could go very wrong, but I think it is also necessary.”
“You do?” Mary turned from looking out the small window on the side of their hired conveyance.
“I can appreciate your need to know about Sally’s.”
“You can?” Lydia asked in surprise. “Is it more than mere curiosity?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded. “I believe so. You see, I would want to know the lay of the land before entering a skirmish. To that end, I would send out scouts or attempt to discover intelligence on my own before making a decision about the engagement of my men. I am not the sort who is willing to toss away my own life or those of my men on the impulse of a moment.” He looked at Mary but spoke to Lydia. “Your sister wishes to know if this is a battle she has a hope of winning, before deciding to put forward her plan to claim the land.”
“I am not fighting a battle.” Mary turned back toward the window. It was not terribly bright inside the carriage as little light was filtering in from the lamps outside, but it was still uncomfortable to be looked at so intently as Colonel Fitzwilliam was looking at her. It felt as if he could read her inner thoughts.
“Yes, you are.”
“I do not understand,” Lydia said softly.
“What does Miss Mary believe about men having mistresses?” the colonel replied.
“They should not have them,” Mary answered.
“But why? And do not quote me what a parson would say. I want to know why Miss Mary says a gentleman should not have a mistress.”
“I would rather not discuss this.” Her insides were twisted in enough knots without having to rehearse her views on such topics – views which she knew were not popular with everyone in society.
“I would say…”
Apparently, not wishing to discuss it was not going to stop Lydia from doing so.
“She finds it disrespectful.”
Mary peeked at her sister and saw Colonel Fitzwilliam nodding.
“She is not wrong. A gentleman who takes a mistress does break his vows to his wife.” He held up a finger. “But Wes is not yet married.”
“Is it so wrong to want a husband who has loved only me in the way he loves a wife?” Mary asked.
“Oh, you did say that!” Lydia cried. “I remember it very well.”
“No, it is not wrong,” the colonel answered. “But is it wrong to turn away a potential mate because of an error in his past?”
“No,” Lydia answered before Mary could form a word, “if he has never changed his ways, it would be best to send him on his way.”
“Precisely. And that is the battle Miss Mary is fighting. Wes has loved others as one would love a wife. Miss Mary needs to know if it was just an error of the past or one which speaks to a lifelong deficit.” He shook his head. “It is not an easy thing to give up one’s hopes and claim a new reality. It takes time and struggle to find the way to making peace with it.”
He touched his eye, and Mary understood that he knew very well the struggle which was raging in her mind. Lord Westonbury was so very far from the sort of gentleman Mary had ever dreamt of marrying. She had always imagined herself married to a gentleman with a small estate, who never ventured very far into society and was content to be at home with his family. She smiled to herself. She had always thought she would marry someone a good bit like her father, and Lord Westonbury was not at all like her father.
“We are here.”
Mary grabbed Colonel Fitzwilliam’s arm when he moved to open the door. “We should just go back home.”
“No, Miss Mary, I did not sneak you down the servants’ stairs, out the back door, down the alley, and around the corner to hale a hack only to have you back out now. You know as well as I do that you need to do this. Even if all you do is set foot inside the door and see that it is not so very different from an inn, you need to put a real picture in your mind to replace the one it might have concocted.”
How did he know she had imagined how a brothel might look?
“Are you ready? We will be right beside you.”
“Sally is very nice,” Lydia encouraged.
Mary drew in a shaky breath and exhaled it slowly. Her insides had never quivered as much as they were right now, but she knew what Colonel Fitzwilliam said was true. She needed to see this place for herself. She nodded. “I think I am.”
“We will be beside you,” the colonel assured her once again before climbing out of the carriage and assisting her and Lydia.
Mary stood for a moment in front of Sally’s establishment. It looked very much like a lot of houses in this part of town looked. If one did not know that this was a brothel, one would pass it by without a second thought. There was a knocker on the door, just as there was anywhere else, and there was a man in livery to answer when one did knock. It all seemed so ordinary and respectable.
Until she stepped inside.
There, coming down the stairs and conducting a conversation with a rather attractive young woman was Lord Westonbury.
She gasped and stepped backward. This had been a very bad idea. She should not have come. Pain welled in her chest and sent tears to her eyes. She needed to leave.
“Mary!” Lord Westonbury caught her by the arm.
“Unhand me!”
“No.”
