Page 14 of Saving a Scoundrel
Hartwick gathered up the money and markers. He glanced around the table. “I was introduced to the girl tonight, and she seemed the sensible sort.”
*
Lucius crossed thealley from the Termage to the backdoor of the Birdcage. Gregor, the brothel’s burly Russian doorman, nodded. “Evening.” He pulled open the heavy metal door for Lucius. It was half one in the morning, and Lucius’s evening was far from over. He tugged off his evening jacket as he made his way down the dim back hallway. The second door opened to a lounge for the employees of Viola Rigby.
“Running late, as usual, I see.” Viola’s husky voice carried across the room. “The party is in full swing, and Mrs. Jackson is waiting for you.”
The Birdcage featured lively musicals nightly to lure gentlemen inside the establishment. Then the half-dressed dancers enticed them to stay for private entertainments upstairs. But on the first and third Saturday of each month, Viola hosted extravagant parties for women only.
Last November, she had approached Lucius while he sat at one of the dice tables next door. “Trying to increase your situation by wagering against the house is foolish. Instead, why don’t you use that handsome face and earn some real money working for me.”
They had shared a drink, and she explained how much these wealthy merchants’ wives were willing to pay to be properly shagged. “Stop wasting all that charm on barmaids and dancing girls. Twice a month, the door to the Birdcage opens only to women. The party is lavish, and they can socialize with charming young men. With thatlord of the manor accentof yours, you could fulfill these women’s fantasy of being seduced by a real nob. I get forty percent.”
“I don’t have to dance around half-naked?” Lucius had asked.
“Just mingle and charm them. But,” she held up one manicured finger, “women want fantasy. So we’ll call you the Lord of Sin. I guarantee you will have repeat customers.”
“I’m not a lord.”
Viola had shrugged. “Who cares? It’s all about the fantasy. No one will know who you really are. Think about it.”
Lucius had always had a talent for fucking. He might as well use it to pull himself out of financial ruin. “Twenty-five percent,” he called out as Viola walked away. She turned around, and her red painted lips turned up in a smile. “For you, gov, I’ll go as low as thirty.”
Lucius nodded. “Deal.”
Lucius crossed the room to buss Viola’s cheek. “I had to pour Hart into his carriage. He was sloshed.”
She patted his cheek. “Tell me again why you work so hard when you have friends in such high places?”
“Because I have to figure out my own way. I can’t be Hart’s pet.” Lucius crossed to the scarred wooden wardrobe. From inside, he pulled out a velvet evening jacket in a deep rich purple. He hung his black silk one on the hanger. Viola was of the opinion that his regular nob clothing was too dull for the fantasy world she had created.
He put his tall beaver hat back on. “How do I look? Elegant enough?”
“Always.”
A couple of the regular girls lounged and chatted on a large velvet-covered settee, enjoying their night off. He doffed his hat with a flourish and bowed. “Ladies.”
They giggled in response and blew him kisses while pretending to swoon. Viola sent them a quelling look. “Mrs. Jackson is enjoying a light supper in the suite while she waits for you. Now get up there and get under those skirts, my lord.” She gave a mock curtsy.
Lucius nodded. He headed through the far door and into the main hall of the townhouse. Upstairs to the suite that Viola had made into a luxurious space that rivaled the bedroom of any rich lord. Viola never did anything halfway. Outside the door, he took in a deep breath and cleared his head. These nights were lucrative, and he was grateful to Viola for providing the role he should play. It allowed him to slip into a character, and he didn’t let himself drop the façade until morning.
He pushed open the door and strode into the candlelit room. “Darling, I’m so glad you could sneak away. Are you ready for a night of sinful pleasure?”
Chapter Nine
Ellie knocked onthe door to her friend’s bedroom. “Susanna, are you ready yet?” she called out as she entered the room.
“Come in. I’ll be ready in just a moment.” Susanna’s muffled voice came from the inside of her wardrobe. “Aha! I knew I had a blue one in here somewhere.” She straightened with a pale blue shawl held triumphantly in her hand.
“Why don’t you ask Jenni to help you?” Jenni was Susanna’s long-suffering maid.
Susanna waved a hand around. “She doesn’t know my system of organization.”
“You have a system?”
Living in the same house as Susanna had been eye-opening. She had a much better understanding of why her friend was always running late. This morning they were heading to the London Book Emporium to ask about the origin of the shipment of books Mr. Buxley, the owner of their local bookshop in Marbury, had bought at auction. Ellie had waited for fifteen minutes in the foyer downstairs before coming back up to find her friend.
“Besides, I shooed her out of the room so I could have a few minutes of quiet to read, and I simply lost track of time.” Susanna settled the shawl around her shoulders. “Alright, what else?”
