The Harlot Countess (Wicked Deceptions #2)(14)

Through Tilda, Maggie had learned of Pearl’s wretched childhood. As a girl, Pearl had suffered abuse and left home at eleven years of age. No one quite knew what had happened to her between quitting home and finding her first protector. Pearl never said, but one could assume they had not been the happiest of times. After learning of Pearl’s struggle, Maggie had believed the courtesan to be the perfect choice for her plan. She’d approached Pearl with a proposition: If Maggie provided the money, would Pearl see it used to help the London girls and women who traded their bodies for coin?

Pearl had jumped at the opportunity. The courtesan provided knowledge of the brothels and how best to help the girls earning a living there. She was acquainted with the owners, aware of who would be receptive to new ideas, and who would use additional funds in the intended manner. And when they were fleeced by an owner, which had only happened once, Pearl employed a few large men to send a message.

Maggie liked to hope the efforts made a difference. While one could never prevent a girl from making a living on her back, Pearl and Maggie did try to keep them healthy and safe.

“Good afternoon, Pearl. You look stunning, as usual.”

Pearl waved the compliment away, though Maggie knew it pleased her. “I feel tired, my lady. I am considering a young man and he is much more . . . energetic than I’m used to. Though I must say, one learns to appreciate exuberance at my age. It far outweighs experience.”

Maggie chuckled. “Considering Hawkins was nearly thirty years my senior, I understand. In my next life, I hope to be blessed with a young buck.”

Pearl made a disbelieving sound. “Next life? If your ladyship will forgive my impertinence, you are young, beautiful, rich . . . what in heaven’s name are you waiting for?”

Maggie had no idea, to tell the truth. At twenty-eight, she’d had two lovers: her husband and a Frenchman she’d met while studying in Paris. Both experiences had been disasters.

“I can see I have brought up unhappy memories, so my apologies,” Pearl said. “And I did not arrange this meeting to discuss our current amours—though should your ladyship ever seek advice, you only need ask. What I don’t know about men could fit on the head of a pin.”

“Thank you. I may take you up on your offer one of these days.”

“Indeed, I hope so. Talking about men is my very favorite thing to do.” She smirked. “Well, second favorite anyway.”

They both laughed, and then Maggie asked, “So if we aren’t discussing men, what are we discussing?”

Pearl smoothed down the folds of her skirt. “A few matters. The first, my lady, is I have spoken to the owner of The Goose and Gander. She has accepted our terms in exchange for the money.”

“Excellent. I’ll send a bank draft later today.”

“That is most kind of your ladyship.”

“I am happy to do it, as you well know. What else?”

Pearl toyed with her fan. “I have heard rumors that your ladyship is acquainted with the Earl of Winchester. Are they true?”

Maggie blinked. “Yes, I am. That is, our mothers were friends and the two of us were close during my debut. Why?”

“But you’ve seen him? Recently, I mean.”

Yes, unfortunately Maggie had. The answers I require are best discussed in private. His words from the previous evening still rankled. Did Simon truly plan to proposition her? She hadn’t decided whether to admit him to the house if he presented himself today. He deserved to be left waiting on the stoop.

Pearl was staring so Maggie answered, “Indeed, only last evening. Why?”

“Has your ladyship been informed about the proposal he plans to present?”

Maggie shook her head. She never paid attention to political matters. Pearl, however, was better informed than most when it came to Society gossip and politics. She’d once told Maggie that information proved almost as powerful a currency as money.

“The proposal has to do with rape. Forgive me for speaking plainly about an indelicate matter, but—”

“No, please do so. There’s no need to dance around it with me. Pray go on.”

“As you know, the facts can be hard to prove to a magistrate. Many times the woman may cry rape, but the man claims the act to be consensual. Lord Winchester’s law would, in such cases, force the man to provide compensation to the woman. An annual sum. Into perpetuity.”

Maggie’s jaw lowered. “A yearly stipend? No woman would want to be tied in such a manner to a man who’d violated her. A yearly reminder of what’s been done, and her attacker knowing where she lives . . . it’s terrible.”

“Precisely, my lady.”

“Why on earth would anyone even assume it to be a good idea?”

“I could not say. But perhaps your ladyship can set his lordship straight?”

The last thing she wanted to do was engage Simon in a political discussion. Perhaps there was another way, however. Many members of Parliament attended her parties, providing any number of opportunities to undermine Winchester’s efforts. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I shall leave it in your ladyship’s capable hands, then. I’ll certainly use whatever influence I have with my meager connections.”

Maggie suspected Pearl’s influence remained considerable, though she currently had no protector. “Excellent. I will do the same.”