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Tony knew that she was. Secretly she longed to have Adam Savage laugh and tease her, then take her to a private room. To cover her wicked thoughts she changed the subject. “What about you, Lily? Why do you do this?”
“To earn my living. My mam had six kids to feed. She took up with an Irish fighter who shagged me on the floor every time she turned her back, so when I turned thirteen, I left. Might as well get paid for it.”
Tony was appalled. She wished she hadn’t asked. Her education encompassed such a wide range of subjects these days, she realized how sheltered her life had been until she met Adam Savage.
Lily uncrossed her legs and stood up. “Look, are you sure I can’t fellate you or something?”
“I don’t think so,” Tony said doubtfully.
“Well, would you mind then if I went and served another customer?”
“Of course not, Lily. It’s been nice talking with you.”
Tony glanced about the decks of theFolly.It was crowded with laughing sea nymphs and their Tridents. Savage was conspicuous by his absence and she’d be damned if she’d hang about kicking her heels while he indulged his vices.
When Mr. Burke opened the front door of Curzon Street he had a bucket in his hand. She swept him up and down with a cool glance. “You’ve a damned cheek, you scurvy devil!”
As she ascended the staircase with affronted dignity, Mr. Burke grinned and shook his head; she had the role of a young lord down pat.
Chapter 19
Whenever she found herself wide awake in the middle of the night, Tony wrote in her journal. She noticed with a little grimace that the pages were filling up and a definite pattern was forming. Each entry started out vilifying Adam Savage, cataloging his faults, listing her suspicions about his past, then spelling out her outraged sensibilities. Then philosophically came a notation whereby she rationalized or excused those faults. After that came grudging praise for either his wisdom or ability, followed by a sentence or two that clearly showed she was becoming infatuated and mooning after the man.
Tony sighed in exasperation at herself. Determined to fill a page that had nothing to do with Savage she put pen to paper.
Men! Since passing myself off as a member of the opposite sex, my eyes have been opened. Men lead two entirely separate lives in two completely different worlds. Whenever ladies are present they pay lip service to being polite, well bred, refined, faithful, and more or less civilized. When ladies are absent, off comes the mask and they are none of the above.
Men have conspired to form a closed circle for the sole purpose of self-indulgence and gratification of the senses. They eat what they fancy, drink anything that intoxicates, go wherever they please, say whatever they wish, place wagers on anything that moves, and throw good money away on bad women.
A double standard exists for society’s sons and daughters. Girls are brought up to be obedient, polite, self-effacing, and chaste. Above all else, chaste. Boys on the other hand are taught that “chaste makes waste,” and are hustled off to a brothel to prove their manhood about the same time they sprout their first whisker.
The hardest part to swallow is that men make the rules, not only for themselves but for women as well. From what I have observed they are free to break the rules while women are not.For her own good ayoung lady passes from the authority of her father to the authority of her husband. She must be a virgin so that her new lord and master can indulge in some traditional, self-indulgent, hypocritical hymeneal rite.
Men are allowed, nay encouraged, to acquire their knowledge of sex from any and all available sources, while women are only allowed to be taught by their husbands.
What about her? Chances were she would never have a husband! Antonia lifted her pen as her thoughts drifted off. If she were free to choose her teacher, she knew who it would be. She began to scold herself for her wicked thoughts, then she stopped. Damnation, females weren’t supposed to indulge even inthinkingabout it. She decided to rebel, even if it was only in thought.
Tony lay back on the bed, crossed her ankles, and folded her arms behind her head. Then she conjured a picture of Adam Savage in a towel. He was easily the most rugged-looking man she had ever seen, and the darkest. His weather-beaten masculinity made her feel weak. ’Twas the fashion for men to be pale, with the soft, smooth hands of a gentleman. Their clothes ornate and colorful, their hair powdered. None of these things appealed to her.
Savage’s hands were, calloused, scarred, and rough skinned as a laborer’s, yet the thought of him touching her with those hands made her want to scream. Savage’s skin was swarthy and hirsute, tempting her to learn its texture, to feel, to lift the towel and explore … everything, everywhere. Antonia felt warm, not just in her cheeks. Her skin began to tingle, then her bones felt as if they were melting and her insides began to ache with a sort of longing.
She wanted him to look at her as he looked at other females. She wanted him to think her attractive, special. She wanted him to kiss her … on the lips. She shivered, covered with gooseflesh, but it wasn’t because she was cold. The ache in her belly spread upward into her breasts. She cupped them and they felt full and heavy and swollen. Her nipples hardened into diamonds. She removed her hands from her body and jumped from the bed quickly to dispel the guilt that stole over her.
Adam Savage spent the early hours of the morning with his secretary. Word of his wealth had spread like wildfire even beyond the City of London. Each day’s post brought proposals for business ventures that Jeffrey Sloane screened before he took up Savage’s valuable time,. Anything with the least possibility of merit he brought to his employer’s attention.
Savage stood over a wastepaper basket with a sheaf of letters. The first scheme to hit the basket was a proposal to make saltwater fresh. The second was to extract silver from lead. The third was to transmute mercury into fine metal. Another for trading in human hair would probably prove vastly profitable, but it was distasteful to him. One of the letters concerned a new lottery scheme. Lotteries were extremely popular and the profits were obscene, but the money came from the poor who made up three quarters of the population and again it was distasteful. Savage was more interested in freight and new methods of shipping goods from one place to another. Manufactories abounded in England’s industrial towns, but methods of transporting what was produced were archaic. He scanned a proposal for importing jackasses from Spain.
He glanced up at Sloane and drawled, “Hardly necessary when there are already so many in England.”
A letter from Abraham Derby, however, who said he had discovered a method of smelting iron from coke, caught his attention, as did a proposal to build a network of canals throughout England. He told Sloane to acknowledge these proposals and set up meetings with the men involved. He especially wanted to meet a civil engineer by the name of Telford who designed tunnels, bridges, and aqueducts.
Another idea Savage knew had great potential was railroads. Stone for the town of Bath had been carried from the Combe Hill quarries by carts on rails. The day was hardly long enough for all the things Savage planned.
He intended to buy a sailing vessel to carry cargo between England and the Continent. Edenwood still needed furnishings, some of which could be purchased abroad. He must also make time for a visit to the head offices of the East India Company and today he was seeing Lord Bathurst at three with the intention of buying his seat in Parliament. Savage was willing to go as high as ten thousand for a seat at Westminster, but shrewdly toyed with the idea of offering him four. At two o’clock he expected a visit from Lady Elizabeth Foster, a looker who was so alluring, it was reported no man could withstand her.
Savage rapidly fired off acceptance or rejection of two dozen social invitations, gave Sloane a list of ladies who were to receive flowers, then finally came to the last item of business. Lord Anthony Lamb. He had put off the inevitable all morning, but he must bite the bullet and confront him. Savage cursed as he heard his manservant answer the door and let someone in. He’d have to leave by the backstairs to avoid the caller.
“Get rid of whoever that is,” he directed Sloane.
