“I don’t … think I am all that special,” he argued.
Beatrice grinned. “You sell yourself short, and I know I’m not the only woman who would think so. Come and meet my David tomorrow. If after you talk to him you are still averse to the idea, I will never speak of it again.”
Roger sighed, realizing he really had no choice. He had promised Emily a solution to the problem of her missing dowry, and thus far this was the only viable option. He owed it to his sister to consider every possibility … even, it would seem, prostitution.
No, he wouldn’t think of it that way. This wasn’t slinking about in slums and darkened alleyways seeking quick tumbles for a tuppence. If Beatrice could be believed, such an arrangement wouldn’t be unlike those of many lords of high society and their mistresses. He’d heard rumors of women who commanded several thousand pounds a year, plus opulent gifts and other luxuries, courtesy of their keepers. As much as he’d like to pretend he had too much pride to let himself be kept like a pampered pet, he couldn’t. He’d crawl over broken glass for Emily, so why couldn’t he do this?
You know very well why, you dolt.
And still, he kept his mouth closed around further protestations and offered his cousin a tight smile.
“Very well. I will meet him. Thank you, Bea.”
Roger’s idea of what a male courtesan ought to look like was affirmed at the sight of Mr. David Graham. The man was prettier than any person had a right to be, while still presenting an air of masculinity. Tall and broad-shouldered, David had a hair full of glossy black hair and bright blue eyes. After Beatrice had introduced them, he proved to be easy with his smiles. Charm dripped from his every pore. Beatrice was clearly smitten, and Roger found himself taken aback by the girlish smiles and giggles the courtesan prompted from her with well-timed jokes and sly glances laced with lascivious promise.
The man was eleven years his junior, but possessed the sort of polish gained with a university education and time spent in elevated circles. He would be at home in any ballroom in London, thereby making it easy to go about his business undetected.
Roger had to admit that this notion of male courtesans had merit, and whoever had thought of it was a genius. He also had to be as rich as Croesus, considering how much Beatrice was paying for the services of her lover. According to David, there were nearly a dozen of these gentleman courtesans, operating throughout London. Each arrangement facilitated by the proprietor of the agency.
“The agency employs men of all sorts,” David told him. “There is definitely a demand for the strong, silent type.”
Not surprising that Roger had been pegged with such traits, as he’d hardly spoken a word since arriving at Beatrice’s townhouse to meet this courtesan.
“My sentiments exactly,” Beatrice agreed. “Do you think Mr. Sterling could find an arrangement for him right away?”
Roger held up a hand before David could answer. “I haven’t said I wish to do this, Bea.”
“I’m assuming that your financial situation is rather dire, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” David said. “Trust me, none of us would be in this business if we weren’t in the same boat.”
“There are other ways of making money,” Roger protested, though feebly. He hadn’t slept last night, lying in bed and ruminating over all the ways he might go about scraping together a dowry for Emily. There was nothing that wouldn’t take years of employment, on top of selling everything he owned of value. There wasn’t much; he had always been a man of simple tastes. Efficient, plain clothing, minimal jewels or finery. His one concession to excessive spending was on books, which littered every surface in his bedchamber and filled the small library at Thornton House.
David grinned, seeming to sense the trajectory of Roger’s thoughts. “There is no business more profitable than this one, believe me. Whatever your reasons, they are certainly honorable. For my part, I send funds to my family in Lancashire. Our estate has been buckling under the strain of debt and mismanagement for years, and I’m now in a position to make it right. Family is important to me … enough to do whatever it takes to assure their security.”
“We have that in common, then,” Roger replied. Family was all he had, after all. Despite Angus’s flaws, he was still Roger’s brother. Perhaps this courtesan business might prove lucrative enough to benefit their family in other ways. There were debts that needed paying, and matters of their country estate that would require both attention and an influx of ready capital. There was also the matter of Roger’s own future to think of. If he could ever work himself up to hunting for a wife, he’d need to be able to provide for her. He cringed at the idea of caring for a wife with funds earned by such salacious means. But what other choice did he have?
“I understand your reservations,” David said, though Roger had voiced none. He supposed the truth was evident enough in his silence and expression. “I hope I can put your mind at ease. All contracts are negotiated to best benefit the courtesan, and you’d never be forced to accept an arrangement you find objectionable. You may find it more pleasant than you’d think. Our business isn’t just about the physical duties involved. Our clients require our time and attention, an escort to the theater or dinner parties, someone to provide a steady presence and a listening ear.”
“And they are very good at it,” Beatrice chimed in, though her enthralled gaze was rapt upon David.
There was clear affection between them, and Roger had to admit they seemed to suit one another. Beatrice was happier than he’d seen her in a long time. If she was willing to pay for such companionship, then Roger wished her well. As unorthodox as it seemed, they weren’t harming anyone by partaking in an agreement based on mutual enjoyment.
“How long does a typical arrangement last?”
Roger could hardly believe the question had fallen from his lips when he had already firmly resolved not to go through with this. Or had he? His mind was spinning him in circles, swinging between refusal and acquiescence.
“That depends on the needs of the client,” David replied. “I have taken contracts for as short as a fortnight, and as long as six months. Our proprietor can tell you more about what goes into arranging a contract. I take it your question means you are interested?”
Beatrice gave him a hopeful look, and Roger knew it was only because she wanted to help him find a solution for Emily’s problem. His sister held the distinction of being the youngest member of their family, and thereby the one requiring their protection and guidance.
Roger rubbed at his aching temple, his eyes bleary from lack of sleep. Perhaps it was his state of exhaustion and helplessness that drove him to do the unthinkable.
“Yes. I’m interested.”
“Capital!” David declared. “Are you otherwise engaged this evening? I warned our proprietor to expect me to call on him this evening with a prospect.”
Roger raised his eyebrows. “You were that certain I would agree?”
David chuckled. “Bea seemed to think all you needed was a little convincing. What do you say?”
Roger glanced to Beatrice, who gave him an encouraging nod. Trepidation twisted his stomach, but there would be no banishing such feelings without pressing onward. He had to go through with this for Emily’s sake … and perhaps for his own. Being forced to face his anxiety in female company might be good for him. It could force Roger to consider a future in which he wasn’t destined to die alone and virtually untouched. If he could charm, woo, and bed a woman for money, perhaps someday he could do it for other reasons.