Chapter 1

1

Lady Leblanc’s Brothel, London, 1850

Agatha Pennybrook had always followed the 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 a book,” 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 had come 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.

Finally, a tall thin woman answered the door. She looked down her sharp beak-like nose and peered at Agatha with small, dark eyes. Instantly, Agatha was reminded of a rodent. She shuddered.

“Thinking you’re lost,” she said with a voice scratched and deep. Her heavy cockney accent made deciphering the woman’s words a challenge.

“I need to see Lady Leblanc,” Agatha said.

Those dark eyes narrowed to slits.

Agatha held up the bag of coin. “I’ll pay for her time, of course.” She withdrew two coins and held them out to the woman. “And your assistance.”

Bony fingers grabbed at the money, then she moved out of the way and granted Agatha entrance.

The dimly lit, smoke-filled room was nearly empty. It was nice to know that Lady Leblanc’s customers waited until a more appropriate hour for their debauchery. Agatha continued for follow the thin woman as she wove through the large parlor and then into a corridor. The faint sounds of pleasure came from behind the various doors. Women moaning and men grunting. Agatha felt her cheeks heat. Finally they stopped in front of a closed door.

The woman nodded towards the door. “In there.”

“I should just go inside?” Agatha pointed to the door.

Those small black eyes rolled upwards so slightly. “You said you wanted to speak to Lady Leblanc. That’s her office.”

Agatha nodded. “Very well.” She opened the door and found a stunningly beautiful woman sitting behind a large, heavily carved desk. “Lady Leblanc?”

Lady Leblanc’s perfectly curved brows arched. “What can I do for you, pet?” Her words showed remnants of her rumored French heritage. She beckoned Agatha with a wave of her hand. The door slammed behind her and Agatha jumped with a squeak, but moved towards the desk.

As Agatha approached, the notorious madam came better into view. She still had a youthful look about her, with clear eyes and skin. Her golden hair was pulled up in an artful coiffure and the red gown highlighted the pale green of her eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

Lady Leblanc chuckled with a husky purr. “Thank you, darling. Now what can I do for you?”

Agatha exhaled slowly. “I need lessons in seduction and I thought you would probably be the very best person to ask. I can pay you.”

“Who are you?” Lady Leblanc asked with a narrowed gaze.

Agatha lifted the veil covering her eyes and pushed it back. “My name is Agatha Pennybrook and I am the widow of Lord Tolley.”

The older woman clapped her hands together, then leaned forward, bracing her chin on the tips of her fingers. She was obviously a woman of great intellect as her eyes shone with shrewdness. “A widow? Why then do you need seduction lessons?”

The pounding in her heart echoed in her ears. Agatha opened her mouth, then closed it. She cleared her throat. “I am still young. Still of a marriageable age, but I do not wish to allow my parents further control over my person. I should like to be in charge of my choices from now on. But I feel as though I need the protection of a man.”

Lady Leblanc’s smile widened. “You intend to become a mistress?”

Agatha nodded. “I believe it is the best and simplest way for me to retain control over my fortune and my future.”

“And your husband did not teach you properly how to please a man?” the madam asked.

“He…he died before…” Agatha’s voice came out in a whisper.

Lady Leblanc eyed her a moment, then sat back in her chair with a nod. “He died before you consummated your marriage?”

“Yes.” She bumped her chin up to project an air of confidence she did not feel. “I am still a virgin.”

A deep male voice swore from behind her. Agatha whirled around to see a settee in the darkened corner of the room. A giant of a man stood and walked towards her.

“I didn’t realize you were entertaining. Your servant—the woman who gave me entrance—said for me to just come in,” Agatha said, glancing back and forth between the madam and the approaching giant.

Lady Leblanc chuckled. “Not entertaining, pet, that’s my eldest son, Sebastian.”

It was that moment he breached the darkness and she could clearly see his features. His hair was golden, like his mother’s, and if Agatha wasn’t mistaken his eyes were the same mossy green. He was young, and so handsome, Agatha could not turn away from him. Her hands began to shake and she felt awareness all over her body. It was unlike any sensation she’d ever felt. Inexplicable, because he had only spoken one word, an oath, and he was simply standing there staring at her.

She was very much aware of his height and broad size. Agatha had never been a small woman. While she wasn’t particularly tall for a woman, she wasn’t short either and she’d always had what her grandmum had called a sturdy frame. Her mother had, instead, referred to her as portly. Agatha swallowed hard as the man came to stand right in front of her.

His ethereal eyes slid from her face and scanned her body. On their way back up over her frame, they lingered over her breasts. Her black mourning frock was high cut and revealed no skin at all so she couldn’t imagine what he was staring at. Perhaps he thought if he looked hard enough the dress would melt away.

Lady Leblanc clicked her tongue. “Sebastian, don’t be rude, introduce yourself.”

He bowed slightly, then boldly stared at Agatha’s eyes. “Sebastian St. Claire.” He reached over and took her hand, then bent his head over it, pressing his warm mouth against the glove-covered flesh. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Her mouth had dried up and she had—momentarily—forgotten how to speak. At least she hoped it was not a permanent condition. She nodded, but said nothing despite her mouth hanging open like a beached fish.