CHAPTER ONE
The sounds of the guests below wafted up the staircase as Sophia took one last
glance at her reflection in the mirror above her dressing table. She was long past
blushing at the appearance she presented. Her empire waist gown clung to her form, helped
by the dampened, sheer shift she wore beneath it. The low, rounded neckline emphasized
the swell of her bosom, barely contained by the thin material of her frock. She wore no
undergarments save the tight corset cinched about her small waist, designed to squeeze her
breasts up and forward. Her blond hair was piled up on her head with a cascade of curls
falling over one shoulder, her full lips artfully outlined with dark, pink rouge, her
large, blue eyes proclaiming an innocence she no longer felt. Pasting a smile on her
face, she floated down the stairs, her hand resting lightly on the highly polished
banister.
Fletcher, their doorman, had just admitted two gentlemen. Their flushed
countenances and disheveled cravats revealing their state of inebriation, which the young
bucks would call “bosky.” Sophia’s Aunt Millicent would call it good for business, so
Sophia’s smile brightened as she stretched out her hands to the two men.
She exclaimed in her low, musical voice, “Sir Gerald, Navvy, how good to see you.
You two look like you could use some refreshment. Escort me into the salon, if you
please. We have two games of hazard right now and the faro table. I’m sure as the
evening progresses there will be more to amuse you.”
Sophia took the arm of Sir Gerald Mulvaney and put her hand lightly on the arm of
Lord Naville as she steered them into the red and gold salon, which was ablaze with
candlelight. She smiled easily as the eyes of the other gentlemen in the room raked over
her form. Glancing quickly at her aunt, she noticed the satisfied smile on the elder
woman’s rouged lips. Sophia was a fine complement to the exquisite food and fine spirits
Millicent Locke served at her exclusive gambling house. She wanted only the best
clientele in her establishment, and she spent a lot of money on her food and her wine
cellar to attract them.
The gambling dens of London were flourishing, given the easy morals of crazy King
George’s son, the Prince Regent, or “Prinny” as his close friends called him. His
particular set was an amoral lot given to extravagance and excess. For the most part, the
members of the peerage followed suit.
Aunt Millicent motioned for Sophia to join her across the room and spoke softly into
her ear. “My dear, how fortunate that Navvy is in attendance tonight. He’s been having
the most shockingly bad run of luck lately. I don’t have to tell you the costs of running
this establishment have grown alarmingly high. If we could just get our mortgage from
Allerton, we’d be sitting pretty.”
Sophia sighed. Money was a constant worry in this household, and her aunt never
failed to remind Sophia that she was another mouth to feed, another soul to support. She
already begrudged the fact that the money Sophia’s father had left her had been
specifically destined to pay for Sophia’s education. Aunt Millicent felt that the money
should have gone straight into her own pockets for taking on the guardianship of her niece
when her brother-in-law died fighting on the Peninsula. Sophia wasn’t even her true
niece, as she was the daughter of her brother-in-law’s first wife. However, she dutifully
followed the orders of his will even though she had other plans for her beautiful niece.
She looked Sophia over appraisingly now, tweaking one of her curls. “The rooms are
beginning to fill up, Sophia. I’d like you to set up another faro table, and remember my
instructions.”
Sophia dipped her head in ascent and took a new deck of cards from the side table to
load into the faro box to start the game. Soon all the seats were filled, and she
continued her pleasant chatter and light flirtation with the men seated around her as she
turned up cards. Mindful of her aunt’s scrutiny, she leaned forward frequently to gather
cards and reposition money and IOU’s around the table. Her breasts spilled forward with
each movement, and many an eye was trained on her bosom, hoping for the moment when Sophia
would spill out of her dress completely. She dressed too artfully to ever allow this to
happen, but the men at the table were not aware of this.
Light fingers trailed up Sophia’s arm and flicked at her cheek. Instead of
shrinking from the touch, she steadied herself and glanced back laughingly at Sir Geoffrey
Allerton.
“Are you playing tonight, Allerton, or just watching?”
He replied lazily, “Oh I’m watching, my dear.” His meaning was quite clear as his
eyes lingered on her décolletage and slid down the length of her body. She allowed it and
even managed a slight curve to her lip.
She knew her aunt was hopeful that Allerton might soon make Sophia his mistress.
Inwardly Sophia shuddered at the thought, but was almost resigned to it. Even if Aunt
Millicent didn’t drill it into her daily, Sophia knew her responsibilities. She had two
younger half-brothers, one in the army and the other at Oxford. The gambling house had
made both of those opportunities possible for her brothers. They were her aunt’s
favorites, her “true” nephews as they were the sons of her own deceased sister. She had
played upon Sophia’s own love for her brothers to bend her to her will.
Since Sophia had been working in her aunt’s gambling house ever since she turned
seventeen four years ago, she was not considered a suitable marriageable partner. She
soon discovered that her aunt was grooming her to become some man’s mistress; and the
wealthier the better. She encouraged Allerton especially because he held the mortgage to
the gambling house. If Millicent didn’t have to pay that mortgage, her take from her
exclusive gambling parties would be more than enough to pay all of her expenses and
luxuries for her favored nephews as well.
Allerton had not offered his protection as yet, and Aunt Millicent forbade Sophia to
accept any man’s offer before Allerton made his intentions clear. She knew Allerton would
prefer a virgin. He already had a wife and a few grown children but was in a position to
offer a secure and pampered place for his chosen mistress. Many men had already offered
their patronage to Sophia, but she prettily declined and acted coy. This hadn’t been
difficult for her. She was not looking forward to that lifestyle with any great
anticipation. She still foolishly had dreams of falling in love and being rescued from
the gambling den that had become her life. She sighed again.
Allerton glanced at her quickly. “Tired already, my pretty?”
Looking at him through her lashes, she said coquettishly, “Oh no, just thirsty.
Will you please bring me a glass of wine?”
“As always, your wishes become my desires.” As he moved behind her, he swept his
hand across her bottom. She managed not to cringe, knowing his palm had felt a smooth
expanse of flesh beneath her gown. Aunt Millicent made her discard her undergarments long
ago, telling her they spoiled the smooth line of her gowns. Now, in addition to her
corset, she wore just a slip under her dresses, and one that was always dampened down to
reveal her form more clearly for all the possible rich suitors who came to the club.
Sophia lifted her eyes quickly at the small commotion at the door of the salon. A
tall, dark man swept in from the rain-dampened street, shaking off his cloak and smoothing
his hair. It was Lord Devine in the company of two young men recently in from the
country. This was the first sojourn in London for the two men, and they had already made
a habit of the gaming houses. Devine had some connection with one of the young men and
was often seen in their company while gambling, perhaps to protect them from getting
fleeced at the table, although Aunt Millicent never allowed that type of activity in her
salon.
Sophia studied Devine intently while his attention was engaged with the young men.
He was a mystery to her. He had been gambling in their establishment for just about a
year, and despite Sophia’s inviting appearance he’d always treated her with a courtly
deference. He certainly never took the liberties with her that others did, no carelessly
placed hands, no endearments and no double entendre. At times she felt he was mocking
her, and there was always a peculiar light in his eyes when he looked at her. Tall with
dark hair, he always dressed impeccably although there was nothing of the dandy about him.
She’d heard he was a bruising rider, a frequent visitor to Jackson’s boxing
establishment, and quite adept at swordplay. The type of man that other men admired and
feared and women desired. His name had been linked with any number of actresses and opera
singers, but he’d never married, and he was still one of the biggest prizes on the
marriage market even though he was past forty now.
With a start, Sophia realized that he was returning her gaze, and she quickly
dropped her eyes to the deck of cards she was shuffling.
She heard a silky voice in her ear, “Your wine, my sweet.”
As she turned to Allerton, he caught one of her golden curls around his finger and
pulled her face close to his. His smooth voice continued as if he were asking her about
the weather. “Are you still a virgin, Sophia? I won’t have you any other way.”
Despite the many assaults on her honor, she still had the capacity to blush. “Need
you ask that question, Sir Geoffrey?”
Tugging at her curl, he allowed his eyes to roam lazily over her form. “I need ask
that question, my sweet, because you have the body of a whore and quite a few gentlemen in
this room have done more than simply look at it.”
“Th-that’s simply good for business, Sir.”
He threw his head back and laughed at that. “Ah, your aunt has trained you well.
What else has she trained you for?”
| 
