He shook his head. It didn’t make sense. How could the beautiful, cultured woman before him be the thieving urchin he’d pursued little over a month ago? He blinked again. The girl was…astonishing.
“I see you are lost for words, Mr McTavish. Now, you are here on a matter of business, I couldn’t help overhearing. Pray, what business is that? If you’d like to follow me into the drawing room where we will be undisturbed, perhaps I can help you.”
Chapter 6
Lily led him into the reception room, which she was relieved to note, was empty of the occasional mooncalves who sometimes waited for hours to see the ladylove to whom they’d decided they’d lost their hearts.
And to whom they’d soon lose a small fortune, for the women at Madame Chambon could be afforded only by those with long purse strings.
These women lived good lives, often much better than the lives they’d lived before they’d ‘fallen’. But Lily didn’t intend to emulate them. She lived for the moment she could leave Madame Chambon’s.
In four weeks, she’d learned much about a world from which she’d been protected, both as a lady of gentility and then as an asylum inmate.
The disgust and horror of living in a den of immorality had abated, but she had made no real friends. Karolina was sweet and naïve, but the others had only an eye to the main chance. Celeste included.
The only benefit to being here was that Lily could grow strong and beautiful again. A woman’s power depended upon being strong and beautiful.
But any power Lily might have gained through regaining her health and looks would come to nothing if her circumstances were revealed.
While she would never return to the privileged position of baronet’s wife, her dreams of quiet, modest respectability would be destroyed if it became
known she’d spent any time beneath Madame Chambon’s roof.
Her affair with Teddy fell into a different category, of course. Many long-married women of her social station had discreet liaisons to which the rest of society turned a blind eye. Nor had her affair with Teddy been the primary reason for Robert banishing her to the maison in Brussels. Lily had only succumbed to Teddy’s charms in response to Robert’s liaison with Mrs Scott and years of complete indifference—or rather, contempt—from her husband.
No, Lily had been banished to the maison for quite another reason, and the fear of a return of her malady terrified her, though not once in two years had she been afflicted by the mental disorder that had provided Robert with the excuse he needed to be rid of her.
Right now, time was not on Lily’s side, she knew, having learned from an overheard conversation passed on to her by Karolina that Mr Montpelier would return in four days.
In order to plan her escape, Lily had to utilise whatever opportunity she could. And whomever she could.
“Please, take a seat, sir. Grace will bring us refreshment in a moment.” She had to do all she could to charm this man, for who else could she petition for help? Not one of the regulars who came to Madame Chambon for something entirely different. Something that Lily was not prepared to barter.
Silently he obeyed her, the confusion on his face almost amusing, except that Lily didn’t have time to waste, pandering to amusement.
The previous night, Madame had offered her a position as one of her girls. This, Madame had insisted, promised her comfort, security, and was her best opportunity for making a profitable alliance and shoring up her future. Some of Madame’s former girls had snared princes and nabobs. One had married into the aristocracy.
Madame had intimated that with Lily’s face and figure, nothing was too great a flight of fancy.
However, working as a prostitute for Madame Chambon was something Lily would never do, nor would she become Mr Montpelier’s prisoner once again.
So, pretending a composure that was far from the desperation that clawed at her insides, Lily smiled as the gentleman settled himself in a plush velvet settee while she asked pleasantly, “What brings you here, sir?” as she seated herself demurely in an armchair opposite him before a crackling fire.
Alert for signs that one of the other girls—or Madame—might overhear their conversation, she leaned in a little closer. At least Celeste was asleep. Celeste had been entertaining Lord Carruthers and was resting before she would make her appearance in another hour or so.
But if Mr McTavish had an interest that Lily could satisfy—other than through physical means, of course—he might be in a position to help her.
Unless she heard from Teddy in the next four days.
Her other avenues of hope had turned into dead-ends. There would be no succour from her aunt. No forgiveness from her husband, only more incarceration.
But Teddy had loved her. He’d rescued her from Robert once.
Surely he’d rescue her again? Once her letter reached him?
“I’m sorry we met under such inauspicious circumstances, Mr McTavish,” she added, smiling. She’d not missed the flare of admiration in his eye. The fact he was an attractive man made it easy to adopt the slight flirtatiousness she felt would best make its mark.
He shook his head, clearly bewildered. “Can it really be you? I don’t understand.” Then, after a pause, “Who are you?”