Tutoring Miss Molly (15 page)

In the cellar?
“Very well then.”

The scullery-maid pointed toward the west wing. “You can go through the servant quarters and then downstairs.”

“Thank you.”

The scullery-maid ran ahead as if being upstairs made her uncomfortable. Molly followed her directions. After going through a series of doors and down a narrow staircase, she came to a wide chamber with a long servants’ table. Small cabin rooms opened up to the crowded and noisy main hall. Servants bustled past her with strange looks on their faces. Some were eating while others ran in and out of their personal rooms. This loud chaotic world was in stark contrast to the smooth running household above.

“Miss Molly, what are you doing here?” Yvette came out of a room Molly had just walked by.

She turned around. “I’m looking for—”

“I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

Yvette’s face drained of all color when she peered over Molly’s shoulder. Molly glanced around to find the butler standing with his arms folded, his face frowning at Yvette.

“It…it does not matter,” Yvette stumbled and rushed back into her cabin.

“Guests are not supposed to be down here. It is most improper,” snarled the butler.

“I’m looking for the cellar,” Molly said.

He jabbed his thumb in the air. “Through those doors and down another flight of stairs.”

With an uneasy gulp, Molly gave a noncommittal smile. She edged around him to escape his disapproving stare. Her boots echoed on the narrow staircase as she descended into the lowest part of the manor. The stale and oppressive air did not help a sudden chill that swept down her spine.

She knocked on an opened oak door.

“Hello?” she called into the dark cellar. “Devlin, are you here?”

Apart from several barrels of wine and shelves of food stored in the dank room, it appeared empty.

The door closed behind her, and a bolt slid in place, trapping her inside. Complete darkness enveloped her, heightening her senses.

“I’m in here!” she shouted and banged her fists on the door. “Let me out.”

A cackle came from the other side of the door.

“Lady Audrey, is that you? Please, let me out.”

A muffled voice replied, “And have you be the chosen one at the auction. No, I think not.”

Molly pounded on the oak. “You can’t leave me down here.”

“That is the least of your concerns,” Audrey said ominously.

What did she mean?
Panic shot through her, and she took a step away from the door.

“Did Devlin put you up to this?” she asked, but there was no answer except for the distant clicking of heels upon the stairs.

“Help!” she yelled over and over again, but no one came.

Molly paced the floor in the dark. The heavy scent of flour mingled with spices filled her nose. She bumped into a cabinet, kicking her foot against an immovable object. Her hand brushed across the smooth wood and nudged a steel tinderbox. Opening the lid, she pulled out a char cloth, flint and steel. Striking the three objects, the cloth caught on fire granting her enough light to find a used candle.

With no place to sit but on a sack of flour, she plopped down on the bag. A gust of white powder shot up from a hole in the bag and covered her in a film of flour.

She wanted to wail out all her frustrations. Cry, scream, hit the bag of flour, but all she did was stare blankly into the shadows. This was not part of her plan.

For the sake of her aunt, she had to attend the mistress auction and win the stature of best courtesan. Even though Kenneth assured her, he would take care of her, after dealing with Devlin’s duplicity—the Harman men were not to be trusted.

With her elbows on her knees, Molly rested her chin in her hands. “I am such a ninny.”

Unwanted memories of Devlin’s handsome face haunted her mind. No matter how her heart broke, tonight she had to make love to another man. That is if she escaped this powdery dungeon.

For what seemed like hours, she sat on the sack of flour, the candle nearing the end of its wick. What would happen when the light went out, leaving her in darkness? Surely, one of the servants would eventually seek something from the cellar. She just hoped it would be before the auction started or the candle ran out.

Whom was she jesting? The auction was about to begin and no one was coming to rescue her.

She had failed.

These aristocrats played games of intrigue too complicated for her to understand. She just wanted to go home. At least there she knew what was expected of her. Life on a farm may be poor, but it was a lot simpler and safer.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Molly’s breath caught in her lungs.

She heard someone chuckle and then young voices. The bolt slid across and the door opened. A footman and a lady’s maid walked in kissing each other. The footman had his hand up the maid’s skirt as they shuffled in.

The girl screamed when she saw Molly and quickly pushed down her petticoats.

Rising from the floor, Molly asked, “Has the mistress auction started?”

The blushing couple nodded.

Running past them and up the stairs, she left a trail of flour in her wake.

With no time to return to her room to change, she tucked her wayward hair behind her ears and tried to wipe white powder off her face. Her crinkled violet gown would have to do. Rounding the corner of the ballroom, she pushed her way into the crowded chamber. Everyone’s attention was on the four stunning courtesans standing on the stage. Their gowns and hair were immaculate and seductive. The duke announced each one with flourish and charm.

Pushing through the throng of guests, she finally made it to the stage and with as much elegance as possible rolled onto the stage and stood at the end of the line.

His Grace hesitated when he came to her. His mouth gapped open at her disheveled appearance. Clearing his throat, he pronounced, “I have the honor of introducing a special courtesan tonight…”

Molly could not hear anything he said. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, her lungs burning as she gasped for air. She scanned the guests for Devlin, but could not find him in the horde. Where was he?

Kenneth waved to her, and she gave him a weak smile. Audrey stood next to him. Her arms crossed while her eyes shot an arrow of hatred. Unable to resist, Molly blew a saucy kiss at the lady.

If anything tonight, she wanted to break Audrey’s contract to Devlin. She looked down at her ruined gown, patches of flour clung to the fabric. Swiping her skirt, she did not recognize the duke standing next to her until she saw his polished black shoes. She lifted her head. The duke stared at her with expectation. The crowd’s attention was on her, their faces one of amusement. The thought of speaking in front of so many people tightened her throat, her stomach turned with nausea.

“Pardon me?” she asked in a small voice.

The duke raised his tone, “I asked if you enjoyed my son’s tutorage.”

“Ye…yes.”

Everyone laughed.

Oh, this is not going well.

She had to look sophisticated and sensual, but all she appeared as was a frightful puff of powder.

Where was Devlin? Just one look from him would make her feel desirable, cherished. She admonished herself.
He can’t help you now.

“We will start the bid on the lovely Miss Jane at the end here.” The duke motioned to an attractive lady in a low cut blue gown with golden hair that reached her backside. She had the sexual beauty that made Molly feel like an ungainly mule. In fact, all the courtesans were incredibly beautiful with their graceful poise and voluptuous bodies. It was obvious they had experience with the auction. Each one swayed her hips and provocatively ran their hands over their breasts as the guests bid small fortunes on them.

How could she compete?

Molly was next in line. No one had outbid the stunning Miss Jane with an amazing fifty pounds.

She had to do something to compel her price up.

The duke held her trembling hand, his warm palm giving her reassuring comfort. “Remember ladies and gentlemen, these skilled courtesans will be yours for a night of pleasure. Before me stands our newest beauty in the mistress auction, Miss Molly Cambridge.”

The crowd clapped and cheered as if they already knew her intimately.

“Can I hear a starting bid?” the duke asked.

“Twenty shillings,” Kenneth called.

Audrey pinched his arm and he yelped. She whispered in his ear and he visibly paled.

The duke nodded. “We have a quid from my son. Do I hear more?”

“Five pounds,” a bald older gentleman called.

Her heart beat faster. Five pounds would stock her pantry for the winter with enough left over to buy seeds for next season.

 “Do I hear another bid?” the duke called.

Silence loomed over Molly. Was there no one else? Her spirits sank lower and she swallowed. She was not going to give up. She had to outdo Miss Jane.

“Can I have the orchestra play something?” she shouted to the musicians across the room.

They lifted their instruments and played a country-dance medley. The lively Scottish tune filled the ballroom, and Molly stepped in beat with the violin.

Taking the hairpins out of her hair, her red locks tumbled down her shoulders and people edge forward. She danced to the music, moving her hips from side to side in a sensual rhythm.

“Fifteen pounds,” another bidder called.

Fifteen pounds? That would see them through the year. Her aunt could purchase another workhorse.

Molly needed more. She danced provocatively along the stage, slowly undoing the hooks on the back of her gown.

“Sixteen pounds,” a lady called from the back of the room. She was the same large woman who wore the horse’s mask at the costume ball.

“Seventeen pounds,” another called.

Molly unhooked her gown and slowly raised it over her head. She threw it to Kenneth and he caught it with jealousy in his eyes. He glanced at Audrey and she shook her head.

The duke gestured his arms wide. “Come ladies and gentlemen, this exquisite courtesan was taught by the best and is eager to show you what she has learned.”

“Twenty pounds.”

“Twenty-five.”

With only a white chemise and drawers on, Molly paraded across the stage. Her face burned with embarrassment, but she remained determined. Turning and bending over, she wiggled her buttocks to the crowd.

“Twenty-six pounds,” the bald man shouted.

She smiled nervously and continued to walk along the edge of the stage. Unlacing her chemise, she swayed down to her knees. Leisurely, she opened the garment to reveal the tips of her breasts.

The mob went wild. They shouted for her to take it off but she shook her head and cupped her ear. “Do I hear another bid?” she called out to them.

“Twenty-seven,” another man shouted from the side.