Page 31 of Cocky August Rake

He did not answer.

Miss Darling’s voice gentled. “And later, when they go on to marry, perhaps they carry that knowledge into their union. If they do not marry, perhaps they are less likely to dismiss the thoughts of a sister, a mother, a servant, or any woman who has less power than they do.”

“You’re saying a visit to a brothel improves upon a man’s character.” This time, he didn’t even try hiding his laugh of disbelief.

Miss Darling barely flinched.

“Not exactly.” Her honesty startled him. “We do not flatter ourselves that we are reforming the gentlemen of London. Some men are simply too devoted to themselves to learn anything useful. However.” She paused meaningfully. “Those men lose the privilege of patronizing this house.”

“And the rest?”

“They learn that decent behavior is… rewarded.” She met his gaze boldly.

Reginald glanced down at the ledgers again.

The figures swam beneath his gaze. Individual earnings. Household expenses. Payments to physicians. Staff salaries.

“You make this place sound like some bloody academy for teaching society’s finest basic decency.”

Rose’s mouth curved. “Hardly. The occasional evening here and there doesn’t cure a lifetime of taking advantage.”

So, she wasn’t completely deluded, then.

Only mostly.

Because none of that changed the transactional nature of what The Domus offered.

“You said the women have choices.”

“We do.”

We.

Pointing out her part in all of this affected him. It was accurate.

But with it, he was forced to imagine Rose Darling with other men.

Not one. Not merely a handful.

Dozens, perhaps. Hundreds?

The thought struck him with a force he found both unreasonable and deeply unpleasant. Men purchasing access to her mouth, her laughter, her softness—things Reginald had no business wanting for himself.

He didn’t like it.

He forced the thought down.

“It cannot be that simple,” he said. He knew men all too well.

Miss Darling didn’t answer at once.

“You aren’t wrong,” she conceded. “Some men deceive us for months. Then one evening, after losing heavily at cards, or suffering some private humiliation, he reveals his bad temper, shows us who he really is.”

Her fingers tightened in her lap.

“Others sign the contracts, agree to the rules, then decide once the door closes that those rules don’t apply to them.”

“And then?”