Tutoring Miss Molly Read online

  “Blast!” Hopping, she clutched her pounding toe then picked up the offending item. Her worn carpetbag gleamed in the moonlight. Someone must have come in while she slept. The butler? She shivered at the thought of the old servant standing near the bed, watching her with those eerie, condescending eyes.

  Molly opened her bag and pulled out a simple green gown. It was one of the best dresses she owned, but the worn material was creased.

  Her stomach growled with hunger. She had to find something to eat. Maybe at this time of night there would be very few guests awake. Another round of laughter invaded her room and she looked toward the terrace. Perhaps she was too optimistic.

  The blanket dropped in a whisper to the floor. She quickly dressed then pulled a comb through her tangled hair. Without looking in the mirror, she left to find anything that would silence the loud rumblings within.

  Padding down the stairs with bare feet, she found a golden-haired maid with a tiny waist and ample breasts spilling from her bodice.

  “Pardon me, miss, but could you please show me where I could get something to eat?”

  The attractive servant smiled and with a French accent replied, “Through those doors, my lady.” Curtsying, she scurried off.

  “But I’m not a …” Molly cut her sentence when the maid was too far away to hear. Shrugging her shoulders, she opened a door into a deserted dining room. Molly walked around a long formal table that could have sat a hundred people. The smell of freshly baked pastries watered her mouth as she neared a serving counter along the wall. Various cheeses, fruit, and breads lined the table in shining silverware. She had never seen so much food in her life.

  Molly chose every succulent morsel upon the platters and sat at one of the place settings. She ate hastily, feeling small and awkward in such a huge, empty room.

  Having finally appeased her stomach, she popped the last bite of a cinnamon truffle in her mouth. On her way through the foyer, she heard a low familiar voice coming from the library.

  Her heart leapt in response.

  Was that Devlin?

  Molly had just entered through the doorway when she realized he was not alone. Nobody had seen her as she backed out and stood against the wall. She peeked around the corner.

  Devlin stood facing a fireplace while a stunning blonde stood in profile close to him, her breasts pressing against his arm. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the fireplace mantle while her arms snaked around his waist. Devlin’s beautiful companion was the same lady whose carriage almost ran her over on the road.

  “Who is the girl?” the lady asked.

  Was she talking about her? Molly waited for his reply.

  “She is nobody,” Devlin answered, his tone emotionless.

  “That nobody caused a big stir in the ballroom.” Even in her tone Molly could hear the lady pout.

  “If you must know, Lady Audrey, she is just another charity case my father wants me to break in.”

  The lady blew into his ear and lightly bit his earlobe. “Then why not give her to your brother?”

  He did not respond.

  The woman pressed closer against him and slipped her hand into his trousers. Judging by the motion of her arm, she took the liberty of arousing him. “When we are married, I will choose who you are intimate with.”

  Devlin’s shoulders tensed and his head dropped. A deep, low moan filled the room.

  Molly ran upstairs two at a time, her heart pounding in her ears. Devlin was betrothed. Moreover, he thought of her as a charity case. Tears of humiliation fell down her face. What about the kiss they had shared by the lake?

  Was she the only one affected? How could she be so…so foolish? Wiping her eyes from blurry tears, she ran blindly into a wall of flesh. Her gaze started at a man’s red boots and followed up the tight contoured red costume.

  She had run into the devil himself.

  * * * *

  Audrey smiled to herself. She was well aware the new girl had been lurking around the corner listening to their conversation. It was fun goading Devlin to speak about her in a careless way. It was best the girl knew her place. However, it irked her that Devlin was not sharing information. Nobody knew who the new girl was, only that she was under Devlin’s wing.

  “Tell me who she is,” she ordered seductively, and stopped rubbing him from the outside of his breeches and glided her hand inside the waistband. Her fingers clasped his warm, hard manhood—the tight skin was smooth like velvet.

  Devlin straightened and grabbed her wrist. “Enough.”

  Fury burned in her chest, but she forced a smile. “You have never told me to stop before.”

  He pulled her hand out of his breeches and turned his back. Her smile fell. Something was wrong. Very wrong. “Devlin, I demand to know who this girl is.”

  He faced her. “Not everything involves you.”

  “You are lying. Your left eyebrow is ticking.”

  Devlin rubbed his eyebrow and picked up the book he had been reading and tucked it under his arm. “Go to bed, Audrey.”

  Ignoring his requests, she trailed her fingers across his shoulder blades. “Let’s set the date for our wedding, my love. I wish to be your wife.”

  “You wish to be a marchioness,” Devlin countered, “and someday Duchess of Albany.”

  She wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her breasts against him. “It is what our fathers want for us.”

  Devlin released a sigh and took another swig of his liquor. “And disappoint all your lovers?”

  “When we are married, I will be faithful only to you. Our children will have your eyes and brown hair.”

  “You forget. I know when you lie.”

  He turned to leave, and she grabbed his hand. “Just remember you are mine, Lord Devlin Harman.”

  This time his square jaw line ticked, his blue eyes darkening to gray. She released his hand, and he left without a word. She had gone too far, she knew it. However, a cold desperation entered her heart and she could not shake its grip. The redhead had changed something within him. Tightening her lips, bitterness settled into her stomach.

  She had to get rid of that girl.

  Chapter Five

  Molly found herself in the arms of the same golden-haired gentlemen she had run into when she had first arrived at the manor. His well-molded face held a wide mouth curved into a tempting grin.

  “My apologies,” she said, lowering her moist eyes, “again.”

  He tilted her chin up with his finger and studied her with an affectionate gaze. Pulling a white handkerchief from an inside pocket of his red jacket, the man dressed in a devil’s costume wiped her tear-streaked face.

  “That’s better,” he said and tucked the cloth into his pocket. “What has brought such a beauty to sorrow?”

  His soothing voice warmed her like hot tea on a chilly day. Molly shook her head, unwilling to expose her vulnerability. “I—I wish not to discuss it,” she whispered.

  “Then let us not dwell on it. Instead, may I have the honor of escorting you back to your room?” The gentleman held out his arm, his sea-blue eyes sparkling with kindness.

  Molly gave him a trembling smile and placed her arm into the crook of his. “My name is Miss Molly Cambridge.”

  “I am Lord Kenneth Harman, son to His Grace, the Duke of Albany.”

  She halted. “You are Lord Devlin’s brother?”

  “Indeed,” he answered, his brows flickered a little.

  “If I may be so bold, you look nothing like him.”

  “This is true. I am likened to my mother’s fairness whereas the marquess inherited my father’s dark complexion.” He led her to her room and opened the door.

  Molly hesitated and slanted her head. “How is it you know which room is mine?”

  Kenneth shrugged. “My brother puts all his favorites in the Lily Room.” He picked up her hand.

  “That is where you are wrong, my lord.” Molly curiously watched his soft lips touch the skin on her hand.

>   Lifting his head, he inquisitively gazed into her eyes. “How so?”

  “I am not Lord Devlin’s favorite.”

  He scanned her from the top of her head down to her bare feet and smiled with charming appreciation. “I can’t see why not,” he answered, and nodded briefly before retracing his steps down the hallway.

  Molly leaned outside her doorway and watched Kenneth stroll away. His red devil’s suit clung to the muscles in his arms and legs, a pointy tail swaying from side to side. A smile crossed her lips. If the devil could find her pleasing, perhaps she could be a courtesan after all.

  Yawning, she crawled back into bed. Streaks of orange and crimson lined the sky outside her opened glass doors. Molly placed a cushion over her forehead to shield the morning glare from her eyes.

  It seemed like only a few minutes passed before a knock on the door invaded her dreams. “Lord Devlin?” she called dreamily, rubbing her eyes.

  The knock came again and Molly rose to open the door, her green gown had crinkled beyond help. Expecting to find Devlin scowling at her on the other side of the door, she instead found a yellow rose held in front of her face. She gasped with surprise and took the flower. “Thank you.”

  In a dashing brown suit with a crisp, white shirt, Devlin’s brother casually entered the room, whistling a merry tune. How very different Kenneth was to Devlin. Where Kenneth’s features were fair, his personality polite and charming, Devlin was dark, somber and blunt.

  “I have a present for you.” Kenneth produced a rectangular box from behind his back.

  She opened the box to find a beautiful pair of blue slippers. “I do not know what to say.”

  “If you want to be a courtesan, you must get used to gifts. Besides, how will you accompany me down to the dining room without shoes?”

  So the word was out. She was officially known as the new courtesan. Swallowing the nervous lump in her throat, she placed the soft shoes on her feet. A perfect fit. She ran her hands down the creases on her dress that seemed to have doubled since last night.

  Kenneth smiled, brightening his features. “You look exquisite, ma chérie.” He sauntered to the door. “Come, let us go to breakfast.”

  “I must at least brush my hair,” she insisted.

  “Then do so,” he said, and sat on the bed. “I will simply have to dine on your loveliness until my hunger is sated.”

  Blushing, she positioned herself at the carved mahogany table. She combed her untamed locks until she could gather them into a bun. Tendrils of hair escaped, softening the features around her face and neck.

  She stood, and whispered to his reflection in the mirror, “I am ready.”

  “Indeed you are the most radiant in all the land,” Kenneth professed, his eyes sincere.

  Casting her gaze downward, she only hoped Devlin thought so.

  Arm in arm with Kenneth, they arrived at the top of the staircase. Unlike before, the foyer was completely filled with gentlemen and ladies. Dressed in finery and jewels, the guests stood outside the dining room. Quietness befell the cramped space when everyone stared up at Molly and Kenneth, then turned toward the marquess who stood leaning against a column. If they were expecting a reaction from him, they were not disappointed. Devlin truly looked like the devil, glaring at Molly and his brother with murderous eyes.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, Devlin promptly closed the distance between them. Standing on a step lower, he said in a deceptively calm voice, “I told you not to wear those old clothes.”

  She flinched at the tone of his voice.

  He looked over his shoulder, his brows furrowed at the guests gawking up at them. He faced her again. “Your armoire is filled with gowns of the latest fashion, yet you disobey me by wearing this…this…” He tugged at the worn skirt. “This rag.”

  “I think she looks delightful,” Kenneth declared and gave Molly a reassuring smile.

  “What you think is of no consequence,” Devlin snarled at his brother. “Yvette!” He called to the maid walking down the hallway. “Take Miss Molly back to her room and help her dress like a lady.” The marquess pivoted and descended the staircase.

  Molly stiffened as though Devlin had struck her. Shame and fury surged through her veins. She just wanted to—wanted to—

  Kenneth took one of her hands and kissed it. “I’ll save you a place next to me in the dining room.”

  With tightened lips, she gave a curt nod. Following Yvette, she cursed Devlin’s arrogance with each step she took. Storming into her room, she ripped the bun apart, pulling strands of hair with it. Ignoring the searing pain to her scalp, she threw the armoire doors open. Gowns of every color and design neatly hung with drawers of countless fripperies to match. Velvet ribbons and laces, bonnets, pelisses, gloves and shoes—the wardrobe held all a lady could desire. Molly fingered through each exquisite gown as her temper simmered.

  “They are beautiful, no?” Yvette stood behind her.

  Molly briefly glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, they are.”

  “I think the morning gown will suit you best,” Yvette said, her thin pale eyebrow raised in a knowing gesture.

  Pulling out the garment the same rich color as the forest, Molly gently laid it on the bed. It was too fine by far for her to wear. Trimmed in black velvet ribbon and a sash fringed with lace, the green muslin was soft and decadent.

  Yvette added a matching bonnet with a pointed black feather, and then came back with a pelisse, embroidered in the same manner as the bonnet. “For when my lady wishes a stroll in the garden.”

  Molly turned to the maid. “But I am not a lady.” Her eyes returned to the gown on her bed. “Please, just call me Molly.”

  Yvette pressed the garment against Molly’s chest. “With this gown, you will soon feel like a lady.”

  Smiling wistfully, Molly undressed. Eager to feel the smooth material against her skin, she allowed Yvette help her into a soft chemise, a tight corset and then the gown. Resisting the urge to twirl around the room like a little girl, Molly sat on the chair and faced the large brass mirror. Yvette skillfully swept her hair up into a fashionable chignon.

  The maid reached for a glass container with a pearl lid. “We have rice powder if you wish to dust your nose and castor oil for your eyelashes.”

  “No, thank you.” Molly twisted the lid open on a small jar. “What is this?” She sniffed the bland contents.

  “Clear pomade. It adds sheen to the lips.”

  Molly dipped her finger into the smooth wax and glided it over her lips.

  “There, I am done,” Yvette said with pride and stood back.

  Mesmerized, Molly could not believe the person staring back in the mirror. Green ribbons tumbled from her red locks, matching her eyes as they glistened from the reflection of the candle light. Her glossy lips shimmered, making them appear fuller. Even her skin glowed a natural hue instead of a sunburned red.

  For the first time, she felt beautiful.

  A slow, secret smile quivered upon her lips.

  “You look divine,” Yvette said, grasping Molly’s shoulders with tender support.

  Clearing her throat, she glanced away and stood. “Thank you, Yvette.”

  The foyer was empty when Molly forced her steps to slow, gliding down the stairs as if she had all the time in the world. The new shoes pinched her tender flesh, but she was determined not to show discomfort. Devlin would not see her squirm in her new clothes.

  She halted at the entrance of the noisy dining room, out of sight. Flicking her hands, she willed them to stop shaking. She was dressed as a lady, now she must act like one. If only she knew how.

  The knot in her stomach grew and her chest ached as if she had been cutting wood all day. The muslin was a little too tight, but she did not tug on it. Tilting her chin, she strolled into the dining room. A loud clatter filled the room as cutlery fell onto the plates. Everyone swiveled their heads to gain a glimpse of the new courtesan.

  Molly searched the crowd until she found Dev
lin sitting next to his betrothed.

  His gaze finally rose and his appraisal devoured her with a primitive hunger. Molly could feel his desire from across the room and a ripple of excitement shot through her heart. His mouth softened, reminding her of how wondrous his lips felt against hers. As if they were the only two people in the room, she walked unconsciously toward him. Hypnotized by gray-blue eyes that promised pleasures beyond her dreams, she could not break his stare. She wanted him. No matter how obstinate he was, she could not deny it.

  “Good Lord, you are exquisite.” Kenneth stepped in her path. “I have saved you a seat and have taken the liberty of procuring your breakfast.” Pulling out a chair, Devlin’s brother motioned for her to sit.

  Molly looked at the seat and back to Devlin, his face darkening. Reality snapped her out of the lingering fantasy. She took a deep breath.

  “You are most kind, my lord,” she replied to Kenneth.

  She settled into her chair and picked at her food. How ever her outward calm appeared, the knot remained in her stomach, making it hard to swallow her food. She tried to pay attention to Kenneth’s chatter about the hunting season, but her mind kept wandering back to Devlin.

  “Do you like to hunt?” After a long silence, Lord Kenneth asked, “Miss Molly?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Do you like to hunt?”

  Molly shook her head, defying the urge to take a quick glance at her tutor. She must remember the only rule of a courtesan—do not fall in love. She had to keep her traitorous heart away from Devlin. He was her tutor and that was all.

  Against her will, she glanced in his direction. Devlin sat brooding, staring unflinchingly at Molly as Lady Audrey tried in vain to pull his attention back to her. Finally, the blonde used her hand to guide his jaw toward her. Even though he faced Lady Audrey, his gaze stretched sideways to search for Molly.

  Molly giggled into her hands, then returned her attention back to her dining partner, nodding to whatever he said.

  Kenneth clapped his hands with excitement. “Splendid.”