Page 2 of A Marriage of Necessity

Anxiety knotted Anne’s stomach. Once she left the party, she would have to wait another week for the opportunity to find a suitable match. There had to be some way to prepare for the next week. She couldn’t sit passively in Lady Peddington’s parlor and sew, sip tea, and talk about the final upcoming ball. Even if she met a gentleman tonight or next week, what guarantee was there she would make a match? She couldn’t wait to the last minute and simply hope to find a husband. The candles on the table behind them were snuffed, leaving them standing in soft shadows.

Jeanine tugged on her arm. “Come along, Anne.”

Dare she stay? Anne scanned the ballroom. At least one hundred and fifty guests, including Lady Peddington’s girls, had attended the night’s ball. Half of those had left. Anne counted ten graduates of Lady Peddington’s School for Young ladies amongst the guests. Some had even removed their gloves. Three girls stood far too close to gentlemen, and the orchestra struck up a waltz. The Midnight Ball had officially begun.

Two gentlemen looked their way.

“Oh dear,” Jeanine whispered. “Two gentlemen are headed our way. If we hurry, we can avoid them.”

Anne faced Jeanine. “Quickly, you go on. I’ll be up later.”

“Nae, you need a husband with money,” Jeanine’s whisper grew urgent. “These men can offer you nothing.”

Jeanine might not be correct. Some courtesans received very expensive gifts. Might she receive enough expensive gifts to support her estate for the next three years? Her mother had a good head for business. She could manage the tenants while Anne earned the money it would take to plant and harvest three years of crops. After that, Dover Hall could support itself and Castle Dòmnallach.

But that required substantial money…

The two gentlemen reached them and stopped closer than propriety allowed. But then, this was the Midnight Ball. Propriety had exited along with all the proper ladies.

The gentleman who stopped in front of Jeanine gave a slight bow. “May I have the honor of this dance?”

Jeanine glanced at Anne.

“Go on up to your room,” Anne said. “I will be up later.” She glimpsed the satisfied gleam in the eyes of the man standing near her.

“Just one dance, my dear,” Jeanine’s admirer urged.

Jeanine narrowed her eyes on Anne. “If you’re staying, then I am staying.” She looked at the gentleman. “I am happy to dance with you.”

Before Anne could object, Jeanine slipped her hand into the crook of the man’s arm and allowed him to lead her toward the dance floor.

Anne hesitated. She should go after her. Oh, this was a terrible mess.

“Would you care for a walk in the garden, love?”

Anne looked sharply at the man standing uncomfortably close. She had no experience with men who were seeking mistresses, but she had been the object of male attention since the age of fourteen. Six years was long enough to gain some understanding of male passions. Only twice before had a gentleman referred to her with a personal endearment—outside of her father, of course. The first, was the boy she fell in love with at sixteen. They fell out of love a year later, but remained friends to this day. The other time mirrored tonight. The intimacy hadn’t been earned, and evoked a sense of uneasiness that made her skin crawl.

Was this how a courtesan felt? Could she give the most private part of herself to a man who viewed her as nothing more than an object to serve his pleasure? Memories rose of her mother sitting before the hearth at Dover Hall, sewing on a cool autumn evening and her sister, Louisa, racing into the room with a drawing to show them or a passage from a favorite book she wanted to share, and the answer was a resounding yes.

But did that mean a walk in the garden?

Once they reached the cover of darkness, what would stop this man from taking what he wanted and then not paying for her charms? She flushed hot at her thoughts, but shoved aside the shame. How did a courtesan go about getting a man to offer a contract? The answer came more easily than she liked. She must tease just enough to entice him to offer a contract—a good contract.

Anne slanted her head and looked up at the man through her lashes. “Perhaps, sir, it would be better if we began with a dance. A walk in the gardens might be something for people who are on more…intimate terms.”

A corner of his mouth lifted, and dread seeped through her. “My dear, I have no qualms about counting myself among the fortunate number of your lovers, but I have no intention of being the man who finances them.”

Anne blinked. “I-I beg your pardon?” Her thoughts whirled. Finances them? She drew a sharp breath. “You think that I am looking for a protector and want to take lovers at his expense?”

He leaned closer and she stiffened when he traced a finger up her arm. “After we have enjoyed ourselves, I might introduce ye to a man who will look the other way when you take lovers while under his protection.”

Her mind cleared. “You believe I will trade my-my—for a—” Words failed as fury clouded her thinking. She arched a brow. “A walk in the garden, you say? You like the dark, sir?”

“Like it?” he said with a growl. “I prefer it.”

Men were fools.

This time, she met his gaze squarely. “In my experience, a man who prefers the cover of darkness to make love to a woman is a man who is lacking in the proper—” she gave him a cool smile “—tools to please a lady.”