Page 52 of A Whisper of Desire
“I needed this after tonight. The Top Hat wasn’t what I expected. I thought it would be titillating and sensual, but it was degrading and sordid. It’s not an equal arrangement. Money changes the dynamics. Making virtual slaves of the poor.”
“True.”
“Is that what it is like in the brothels you and the other Libertine Scholars go to?” Disappointment filled her words.
He closed his eyes and let guilt swamp him. What she said was true. “Most of the women working in brothels have little alternative. Some, however, enjoy the work and think it better than working in a coal mine or sweatshop.”
“I hate that for an accident of birth, I could be in their position. I wish there was no poverty. I still feel dirty,” she whispered. “The young boys at the club…Are there girls as young as that at the brothels you’ve attended?”
“The respectable gentlemen’s clubs, no, but I suspect that it will be a very similar situation as the Top Hat in the less salubrious brothels.”
“Men are disgusting creatures.”
Maitland froze, because he was one of those disgusting men—not with children, but he had other tastes equally disgusting. His reaction to what he’d seen and done in the barn all those years ago told him what sort of man he was. He hoped she never found out the truth about the man she’d married.
“Some men like…abusing children. It is illegal to be with a girl under twelve, and of course buggery at any age is illegal. It’s seldom tolerated in polite society, but—unfortunately, money makes men into monsters. A wealthy man can buy almost anything in this world.”
Her finger entwined with the hair on his chest. “Clarence and Simon are orphans. Why didn’t they go to one of the orphanages?”
He pressed a kiss to her head. So innocent. “They are often worse than a place like the Top Hat. The men and women running them can be cruel, greedy, and perverted.”
He felt the tension running through her limbs. “Then I want to do something about that.” She bolted upright. “We should employ upstanding men and women to review each orphanage or home and report them if there is abuse.”
“That’s a lovely idea, but most of the homes are privately funded, and why would they let you enter? Especially if they have something to hide.”
She sighed, remaining silent. Maitland could almost hear her brain working.
“You said you didn’t really want my dowry. Is that still the case?”
He nodded suspiciously.
She snuggled back down on his chest and closed her eyes. “Then I shall become a patron of as many homes as possible. Then they won’t be able to stop my investigating how they are run.”
Maitland smiled against her hair. She was an amazing woman. Clever, loyal, and full of goodness. Perhaps during his lifetime her goodness and purity of heart would rub off on him.
They cuddled together, content to simply hold each other and thank their lucky stars they were two of the privileged.
For the first time in a long while, he fell asleep with a smile of contentment on his face.
Chapter 14
Maitland slipped from Marisa’s bed before dawn. He awoke with a determined part of him stiff as a beam. Today was Thursday. He couldn’t make love until Saturday, and that might just be the death of him if he had to sleep next to her again.
Returning to his bedchamber, he took himself in hand, hoping to steady his ever-increasing desire. It helped some, but his traitorous body wanted to slip back into her bed and continue what his hand started but did not satisfy—its need for Marisa.
He pushed the erotic images from his mind and quickly washed, calling for Gilbert to help him dress. He had a call to make. Bloody Arend was going to wear his fist for having suggested he expose Marisa to the degenerates in that club.
As he galloped through the park he tried to think of a way to keep attending the club without needing to expose her to risk and the horrors of that life, but nothing came to mind.
Lost in thought he almost didn’t hear Arend calling his name. He pulled his mare, Astraea, to a halt and waited for Arend to catch up.
“You’re up early,” Maitland stated, his fist itching to pummel Arend’s prominent chin.
“No. I’m out late,” Arend said with a wicked smile. “Where are you off to this early in the morning? I thought you’d be tucked up in bed with your stunning wife.”
Maitland couldn’t meet Arend’s eye. “I was coming to see you, actually.”
“At this time of the morning? You know I would not be receiving or likely home.” He looked up to find Arend watching him with those all-knowing eyes. “Well, you have my attention. What was so urgent you had to talk this early? Did something go wrong at the Top Hat last night?”
