1
Lady Leblanc’s Brothel, London, 1850
Agatha Pennybrook had always followedthe rules. She’d never argued with her parents, never fought their direction for her life. At the tender age of nineteen, she’d married the man they’d selected for her despite the fact that he’d been forty years her senior. When her new husband had died a week after they’d married, she’d immediately gone into mourning and kept her black veil for the required two years.
The mourning period had given her time to think, time to plan and to come up with a solution for her predicament. Because as it seemed from her parents visit this morning, they were planning to marry her off again. Time to refill their coffers, it would seem. Never mind the fact that Agatha was now one and twenty and certainly old enough to decide her own future. It was past time for her to be in control.
Which was why she had consulted the council of her dearest friend, Violet Weatherford.
“What you need is a wealthy benefactor,” Violet suggested. “And if you will not allow me to be that person, then we can find you one.”
This was not the first time she’d made the offer to gift Agatha with monies. Violet was richer than Croesus.
Agatha shook her head. “I cannot be beholden to you, my dear friend.”
“If you do not wish to be a wife, you should be a mistress instead. That way you have the benefits of financial support and some protection, but the kind of freedom that most marriages do not afford.”
Agatha’s heart pounded. She opened and closed her mouth several times as if she were a fish trapped on land. She’d never broached the subject with Violet. In fact, she’d never told anyone, but her friend should know. She’d done so much for her.
“I do not think I can do that, Violet.”
“Whyever not?”
“Because I am a virgin.”
It was Violet’s turn to look like a beached fish. “I don’t understand. You were married.”
“For only a handful of days before Albert died. And he was quite ill in that time. He was never able,” she exhaled and shook her hands out in front of her. “That is, it simply did not work between us.”
“As unusual as your situation is, I don’t think that precludes you from being a mistress.”
“Except of the part where I have no experience when it comes to matters of the flesh. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Violet tapped her finger on her lips. “There is a solution here, I can feel it.”
“If only there were books on such matters. When I wanted to learn more about astronomy and mathematics, I simply read abook,” Agatha said. “But I don’t believe they have such texts at any of the lending libraries.”
“Likely not, but that does not mean they do not have such books. Somewhere.” Violet looked up at the ceiling as if searching for divine intervention.
“I do not believe prayer is the answer in such a situation,” Agatha said. “If not a text, then a tutor.”
“Yes, a tutor!” Violet jumped to her feet. “That’s precisely what you need.”
“A lovemaking tutor? Violet, I was jesting. They don’t have such things.”
“Not officially, but I suspect that Lady LeBlanc would be the perfect person to hire for such skills instruction.”
“The madam?”
“Who better than the most notorious madam in all of London,” Violet said. “Her establishment caters to all the wealthiest gentlemen.”
“She is still a prostitute.”
“I don’t believe that means anything significant for what we’re discussing. Presumably she’s seen and done everything imaginable in the bedroom. Why could she not simply instruct you.”
Agatha’s heart pounded fiercely in her chest. Could the solution be that simple? Well, not that visiting a brothel was simple for a lady in Agatha’s standing. But still. She had some funding she could afford for instructions. It was a plan that just might be worth considering. If her options were this or marry the odious Duke of Lancaster, she could muster up the courage to brave a house of ill repute.
Which was why she was currently waiting on the front stoop of London’s most infamous brothel. The answers she needed were sure to be found within these sin-filled walls. She’d tried to think of any other solution to her problem, but none hadcome to fruition. Still donned in her mourning attire, she waited patiently for the door to open. The black dress and veil were no longer required of her as of today, but they did provide somewhat of a disguise for her so she wouldn’t be recognized. She didn’t want to cause a scandal until she was certain she could turn it in her favor.