Sheltered as she was, Tony knew more or less whatfuckmeant, but she was shocked beyond belief that Savage had used the word in a sentence to her. Did men use such language among themselves? She was dying to say the bad word herself and wondered what his reaction would be. “Who shall I fuck?”
Savage measured Tony with a glacial stare, wondering if he was being mocked. Then he realized Lord Lamb hadn’t the faintest notion who was fuckable and who wasn’t. Splendor of God, he was a milk-faced innocent!
“Most young men wealthy enough to have servants usually gain their first experience by tumbling a serving maid or their tenants’ daughters. Yours seemed willing enough. Here in London there are plenty to choose from. The fashionably impure are referred to as Cyprians or you can take your pick of ballet dancers or actresses. There are scores of abbesses who offer young novitiates for the edification of titled young men.”
“You mean nuns?” Tony asked with disbelief.
“Christ, of course I don’t mean nuns, not real nuns, that’s just a slang term for a girl in a high-class brothel.” Savage paused. “You do know what a brothel is?” he demanded.
Tony wanted to lie because she couldn’t bear Adam Savage to hold Lord Anthony Lamb in such contempt. “I haven’t a clue, but since you’re my bloody guardian, you’d better educate me.”
“This is thirsty work. I’ll buy you a pint,” Adam said, turning in at the Rainbow Tavern. “They used to have a fellow here who could sew with his toes,” he said, apropos of absolutely nothing.
The landlord pulled them two pints and they sat down at a table where they could talk. Savage took a deep draught of ale and wiped the back of his strong hand across his mouth.
“Once a man becomes sexually active, it’s almost impossible to abstain, and why should he abstain when there are so many willing partners? Now, I know you are not so naive that you don’t know most wealthy men keep a mistress.”
“Of course not. Roz says even married men keep a mistress tucked away somewhere.”
“The cost of a mistress can be prohibitive, especially to a young man like yourself, so there are houses, commonly known as brothels, where you pay the madam in charge for a female companion for an hour, an evening, or an all-nighter. You pay for her sexual services. In a high-class house the females are usually pretty, extremely inventive in ways to please a man, and most importantly, they should be clean so you don’t come down with a dose of the pox. London caters to every taste and pocket.”
“I see,” Tony said as a couple of things that had always puzzled her clicked into place. Her cheeks were warm but the subject fascinated her.
“Those women who tried to sell themselves were streetwalkers. It’s never a good idea to use a common whore.”
“I do know what trollops are, Savage. Around Charing Cross they are thick as fleas on a dog’s back. I was simply ignorant about houses of sin.”
Savage smiled at Tony’s prudish term. “The English are such hypocrites about sex.”
“As compared with people from the Indies?” Tony inquired.
“Compared with any! In France they are called ‘houses of joy.’”
Tony was irritated that Adam Savage was so familiar with such places. “I cannot understand what the attraction is. The girls are common, illiterate, and only want money. There are so many lovely, refined young ladies make their debuts every season.”
“The attraction is simple. It’s against society’s code of honor to fuck a debutante. They hold out for marriage.”
“That’s because of society’s double standard. Women cannot control their own destiny. They have no money, no power, they go from a father’s authority to a husband’s authority, if they are lucky enough to catch such an elusive creature.” She suddenly realized she was speaking as a female and shut her mouth.
Savage remarked dryly, “From what I’ve observed, husbands don’t wield much authority. Once a woman is married she’s fair game for fucking.”
“That is outrageous! Only a rake would pursue a married lady.”
Savage looked at Tony and spoke frankly. “There are a lot of sex-starved wives out there, and it is usually they who do the pursuing, I’m surprised you haven’t been seduced by a society matron or the mother of a friend.” Adam observed Lord Lamb closely. “Perhaps you go about with blinkers on, blind and deaf to the lures that are cast your way.”
Tony finished her ale, wiped her mouth as Savage had done, and said cynically, “Now that you’ve torn the veil of innocence from my eyes, I expect I’ll have a very full social life.”
“Let’s hope so,” Savage remarked lightly. “By the way, we are dining at Devonshire House tomorrow night. Perhaps we’ll both get lucky.”
Chapter 16
By the time Tony came down to breakfast the next morning, Adam Savage had departed. Midmorning brought a footman with a note informing Lord Lamb that his guardian had moved into his own town house in Half-Moon Street, which was on the other side of Shepherd’s Market, closer to Green Park.
As Fenton gave Savage’s luggage to the footman, Tony could have kicked herself for not going through his belongings. He was such an enigma, she was wildly curious to learn everything there was to know about him. It was too late now, of course.
No sooner did the footman depart than Roz and Mr. Burke arrived. Tony was overjoyed to see her coconspirators; somehow they lent her confidence. They would both be able to advise her about socializing with the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire. When she contemplated dinner at Devonshire House, for one terrible moment she wanted to make some excuse why she couldn’t accompany Savage, but it soon passed. For one thing she couldn’t bear his look of contempt for not being courageous enough to attend, and for another here was her chance to make the debut into society she had been denied earlier. Admittedly it was as Anthony rather than Antonia, but wasn’t she experiencing everything for both of them?
When she thought about it she realized that impersonating her brother would give her a male perspective to which no other female would ever be privy. It was so risqué, her wicked juices began to bubble and she felt her excitement begin to rise.