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Aphrodite and Dobson glanced at each other, and a secret exchange was made between them.
“Very well,” Aphrodite said. “Come with me. Dobson, will you see that those lobsters have been delivered? I am tired of chasing after that fishmonger. Frighten him, mon ami, with your snarl.”
“You leave it to me, Miss Aphrodite.”
He strode off toward the back of the house, and Aphrodite turned and led Vivianna into a room off the hall. It was as elegant as the rest of the house. A tapestry covered part of the wall, the pastoral scene intricate and breathtaking. A bowl of flowers sat on a table, and the chairs and sofa were covered in delicate, hand-painted fabric. The windows overlooked a small side garden, where a tree was blooming, its petals scattered on the ground like snowflakes.
Aphrodite gestured toward a decanter, but Vivianna shook her head. The other woman then seated herself upon a chair and Vivianna sat down to face her.
“I don’t know what Oliver has done, Miss Greentree, but I am a little surprised you find it necessary to complain to me.”
Vivianna shook her head. “I have no complaint. That is not why I have come. And, you were correct, neither was I thinking of my cloak. I came to ask you something. I…it is probably an imposition, and you may refuse—in fact, I am sure you will—but first will you listen to me? Please?”
Aphrodite’s expression was aloof, but Vivianna had no doubt that behind that polite mask her mind was turning. “Very well, Miss Greentree. What did you wish to say to me that has caused you to brave family displeasure and public censur
e, by coming to my house?”
Vivianna hesitated. She had meant to tell Aphrodite as little as possible, and to simply ask for the benefit of her expertise. But now she sensed that Aphrodite would refuse her if she did not explain more fully her reasons for wanting such help.
Aphrodite was watching her, the polite smile fixed to her lips. “Come, Miss Greentree,” she said with the slightest note of impatience. “It cannot be so bad. I have been called many names, believe me. If you have come to berate me or abuse me, I will hear you out. Say what you will, and put us both out of our misery.”
Vivianna’s eyes widened. “Oh no! I have not come to berate you, nor abuse you. Nothing like that, I promise you. It is a favor I would ask of you. I…But first I think I must tell you why I would need such a favor. Will you be patient just a little longer?”
Aphrodite had been watching her with quizzical eyes, and now she bowed her head, relaxing slightly.
“I believe I have already explained to you that Lord Montegomery owns a property called Candlewood. It is leased to some friends of mine, and we are using it as a home for orphans—the Shelter for Poor Orphans. Lord Montegomery now wishes to demolish the building and build houses, and he is evicting the orphans. Oh, he has offered alternate accommodation, but it isn’t the same. Candlewood is ideal, the perfect place for these children. It is their home. I came to London to try and prevent him from going ahead with his plan, to make him understand. But he will not listen to me.”
Aphrodite had been sitting quite still, but now she looked up with another polite smile. “Yes, you explained to me when you were here before.” She waved a beringed hand. The emeralds and pink topaz about her throat flashed in the light from the windows. “Orphans. Abandoned children. You feel an empathy towards them, Miss Greentree?”
It was clear from her tone that Aphrodite felt little. Vivianna tried not to let it upset her. “Yes, I do.”
Aphrodite raised elegant brows. “Why?”
Vivianna was taken aback. “My reasons are personal.”
“Very well”—with another meaningless smile. “But you must realize that Oliver will no more listen to me than he will to you. Less so, I should imagine. At least you are his social equal. I am…psht! Nothing.” She snapped her fingers.
Vivianna frowned. “Nothing? But you are clearly an aristocrat, Madame! A French émigré, perhaps? An escapee from the Bastille—or rather, the daughter of one.”
Aphrodite gave her little smile. “You are too kind, Miss Greentree,” she said, but she did not explain her antecedents, and it was clear she had no intention of doing so.
But Vivianna was curious. “Was it true? The things your doorman said about you? That you were a great courtesan with many rich and famous lovers?”
Aphrodite lowered her lashes, hiding whatever feelings may have shone in her eyes. “I was famous once, oui. Like Madame du Barry, like Madame de Pompadour.” She smiled. “Do you understand, Miss Greentree, what a courtesan is? She is a woman trained to play a part, and yet she is a part. Often she comes from poverty, or maybe she is of the bourgeois and has fallen upon hard times, or been ruined by some man, psht! The courtesan, she can drift in and out of so-called polite society; sometimes she can be accepted by it, just as she is accepted by the demimonde. There are many courtesans who have married well and put on the cloak of respectability. Others, like me, prefer to remain free of such bindings.”
“Oh.” Vivianna blinked.
“A courtesan gives more than just her body, mon chou. She gives her charm, her intellect, her ability to amuse and please. She is a companion and a lover. Sometimes she is wife, mother, and child, all in one. A successful courtesan is sought after by many men, and she cannot stay with a single one, not for long. Unless she falls in love”—and now she looked up, and her eyes glittered—“and that would be a very grave mistake if she wants to continue being a courtesan.”
“I can see it would.”
“Now, Miss Greentree, what is it you wish to ask me?”
Fascinating as the conversation was, she had been told, politely, to hurry up. “Madame…Aphrodite, the other night, you said that there were ways of persuading a man. Of leading him. I want you to teach me about those ways. I want to use them on Oliver.”
There was a surprised silence. “You want to learn to be one of the demimonde?”
Vivianna’s face flushed bright red. “No,” she gasped. “No, I don’t want that. I simply need some advice on how to capture his interest, and to keep it, so that I can persuade him to change his mind.”
