Lessons in Seduction (Greentree Sisters 1)

Vivianna blushed. “Yes.”

Aphrodite smiled. “Good, then I think you should touch him. Rest your hand upon his arm, let your fingers trail across his sleeve. Brush them against his chest, lightly, innocently. Lean in close to him when you speak, so that he has your scent. When he touches the peak of your breast, touch his. Watch his face, learn what he likes best. Believe me, his brain will soon be boiling like a turnip in a pot.”

Vivianna laughed.

“And if he touches you again intimately, make him feel as if he has given you a most wonderful gift. Make him feel strong and important, Vivianna. Play upon his ego. Although it is you who will be controlling the moment, he must believe it is he.”

Then, as if they had been discussing nothing more scandalous than the weather, Aphrodite rose and rang the bell for a servant, and they took tea and macaroons. Vivianna sipped and nibbled, but could not help but wonder what her family would think if they could see her now, taking tea in the home of a famous courtesan. Her mother would be shocked and appalled, probably, although her sisters would understand, particularly Marietta. Marietta was quite as daring as any young lady Vivianna knew.

“Tell me a little of your family, Vivianna.” Aphrodite looked genuinely interested.

“What will I tell you?”

“Whatever you wish, mon chou.”

Vivianna wondered whether she could tell Aphrodite not to call her “my cabbage,” but she supposed that would be impolite. Besides, she was growing used to it.

So Vivianna spoke about Lady Greentree and their home, and the moors, and how Marietta was beautiful and daring but rather lacking in foresight—“Impulsive,” sighed Aphrodite—and how Francesca preferred the company of her dog and the moors and liked to see herself as a heroine of old—“Dramatic,” murmured Aphrodite.

“While you, my dear Vivianna, you are passionate.”

Vivianna laughed. “I fear so!”

“All the more reason to protect your heart. When a heart like yours is broken, it will not mend so easily.”

Vivianna nodded, accepting the warning and the kindness that went with it. Who would have thought she could feel such empathy with a courtesan? A woman who stood outside the ranks of respectable society? And yet, in light of how Vivianna herself felt, it made perfect sense.

“Have you always lived in this house?” she asked suddenly, and then was embarrassed by her own curiosity. “I’m sorry, it is nothing to do with me.”

“You may ask whatever you wish, Vivianna. No, I have not always lived here. I have lived in many places. Once I became famous”—with a smile—“I lived in Paris on the Boulevard de la Madeleine, and I lived in a house in Mayfair for many years, and there was another house in the country, which was very fine. All gone now. I was…ill for a time, and I did not want to please my friends anymore. I lost rather a lot of my wealth, but I retained enough to set myself up in this house. Now many gentlemen come to see my protégées.”

“And they do not come to see you? I find that difficult to believe, Madame.”

Aphrodite laughed in genuine amusement. “Well, maybe they come to talk to me and laugh with me and remember old times. I can still make a man look at me, even if I do not want him to share my bed. Ah, now I have been too frank with you, mon chou, I am sorry.”

“No, no,” Vivianna insisted, though her cheeks were warm. “I like frankness. I prefer it. What did you do in Paris, apart from…from…”

Aphrodite smiled at her clumsiness, but she answered readily enough. “I went to the opera and the theater and many, many saloons. I entertained the rich and famous, the artists and the writers, in my house on the Boulevard de la Madeleine. Once I held a dinner party there for ten special friends. There were many dishes, and when it came to dessert, I left the table and went myself to the kitchen to prepare it.”

“It was special, then? A special dessert for your special friends?”

“Yes, very special. It was me.” She laughed aloud at Vivianna’s expression. “Oh, mon chou, your face! No, no, they did not gobble me up. I had my chef cover me in flowers and rosettes made of cream, all in different colors, and decorate me like a pretty cake. Then I was placed on a very large platter and covered with a very large silver lid, and they carried me into the dining room and placed me upon the table. And then the lid was lifted and…voilà!”

Vivianna knew her eyes were popping. “What did they do?”

“They applauded a great deal, and then they…” Her eyes grew sly, and her smile more so. “Well, that is enough for now, Vivianna. Later, perhaps.”

“I’d like to hear of it,” Vivianna retorted, and meant it.

Aphrodite laughed, delighted, and then her face grew solemn, almost sad. She spoke again, this time in French, and so softly Vivianna hardly heard her. But it sounded as if she had said, “I knew I would love you, but I did not expect to like you….”

“Madame?”

Aphrodite waved her hand impatiently. “It was nothing. Nothing. Now, one more thing before you go. I have much spare time these days and I am writing the story of my life. Many courtesans write their life stories, you know. Respectable English people love to read about courtesans, even though they do not like to have them in their drawing rooms. I wondered if you would read what I have written, Vivianna, and give me your opinion.”

“Oh, that would be…it would be a privilege, Madame.”

Aphrodite smiled, as if Vivianna’s wholehearted sentiments amused her. She went to an armoire on the other side of the room and took from it something rather like a diary, bound in red leather. She placed it in Vivianna’s hands.