Ten

Miles looked at the quiet side street to which Alicia had directed the hackney. The main entrance of Aphrodite’s Retreat was just around the corner. After paying and helping Alicia down, Miles followed her into an alley on the backside of the establishment.

"I hope you don't come this way alone," he said, wondering about the protectiveness he felt for her. But she had quickly become more than a woman he was sleeping with. A friend, he gathered. Although, he had never had a female friend before.

"I usually go by the main entrance when I arrive — before the clients do. Then a footman will escort me out this way when I leave," Alicia said without turning. "Oh, hello, Thomas," she greeted a footman a moment later as she reached a gate.

The footman greeted her, clearly knowing who she was, and they exchanged pleasantries before they were admitted to a small garden, and the footman locked the door again and went in search of Alicia's sister.

They didn't say anything as they waited, and Miles could feel himself starting to doubt his decision to come. It seemed impossible that someone wouldn't recognize him. He didn't mind being connected with Alicia. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary in him being seen with a woman of her reputation, but he didn't want people to know about his problem. He would be the laughingstock of the ton, not to mention that his wedding would most likely be cancelled.

The thought of the wedding night made his hands clammy, and he ran them up and down his breeches to dry them.

The door was opened, and the footman appeared again, telling Alicia that her sister waited right inside.

"I'll stay here," Miles murmured, not knowing whether there was anyone with Madam Dubois or Jemima, as Alicia called her. Alicia nodded and went inside. She didn't close the door properly, meaning that he could hear the two sisters greeting each other.

"I'm . . . I'm here with someone," Alicia then said when her sister asked her why she was there.

"Someone?" Jemima replied in a tone of voice Miles recognized as a curious older sister.

"Well, it doesn't really matter who it is. You will see for yourself in a moment. But we'd like a room. The mermaid room."

There was a pause, then Jemima said in a worried whisper.

"Is this a patron?"

Miles found her worry a bit misplaced since she was herself a madam, but he supposed that everyone was allowed to have double standards.

"No, it's just an acquaintance," Alicia answered. Miles felt both relieved that she would phrase it that way, but also somehow, a bit sad. "Please don't tell Mama,” she added in a pleading voice that seemed universal to the sentence.

"I won't. Everyone's allowed a bit of fun. But be careful, Licia; if rumor starts spreading, it might destroy all that you've worked so hard for."

Licia. He liked that. Alicia suited her far better than Delilah and Licia was a good pet name for her. Not too cute, but clearly showing affection.

"I am careful," Alicia stated firmly.

Jemima didn't answer at once. Miles assumed a form of nonverbal communication was going on between the two.

"Fine, I'll check if the underwater room is available. Do you want to come in and wait?"

Alicia said they would wait in the garden. She told him the essential details when she came back outside, and Miles nodded as if he hadn't heard their conversation.

The silence between them as they waited was not particularly pleasant, but since the footman was still standing at the gate, Miles did not want to speak. The garden was so small that there seemed no way the footman would not be able to hear their conversation. Alicia seemed to have come to the same conclusion. She was pacing around the garden in a slow circle, bending over a flower from time to time and smelling it.

Miles was more and more convinced that their endeavor had been a mistake. Sitting with Alicia in his lap, talking, had been a rare moment of honesty. She had tried her best to cheer him up, and he had wanted to indulge her. And see her in the mermaid costume. But there was none of the closeness left that he had felt earlier.

Finally, Alicia's sister appeared in the doorway. Her eyes widened a bit as she saw him, but she simply greeted him by bobbing a curtsy and said:

"Lord Lindley."

Miles lowered his head slightly, saying:

"Madam Dubois" in the voice that he also used to greet the matrons of the ton. Slipping into the role of the Earl of Lindley strengthened him and he didn't feel as self-conscious anymore.

Jemima led the way up a service stairway, followed by Alicia, with Miles at the back. They didn't meet anyone there, but Miles couldn't help looking over his shoulder. Jemima looked into the hallway that Miles recognized as the one containing all the elaborately styled rooms. When she exited, he quickly followed her and Alicia into a room that really was made to look like they were under water, but with a rather pungent smell of sweat.

"It's yours for the rest of the night — and the costume is behind the screen," Jemima said with a wink and left the room.

"I hope you don't mind my opening the windows?" Alicia asked and started opening one of the two windows in the room before Miles had a chance to answer. Not that he minded, though.

Miles looked around the room. It had been painted different shades of blue with seaweed and fish painted on the walls. The screen for changing behind was formed like large pieces of seaweed as well.

There were no chairs or a bed. Just several large, dark blue pillows on the floor and a large swing hanging from the ceiling.

After Alicia had opened both windows, she started roaming around along the wall.

"Usually there are a couple of decanters and tumblers, but I can't seem to find them," she said, without him having to ask what she was doing.

"Why don’t you put on the costume, and I will find the decanters?" Miles offered. Since they were here, he might as well see her in the costume. Perhaps on the swing as well, even though he doubted that he was able to be with her in that manner. If at all, he thought glumly.

Alicia slipped behind the screen, and he thought he heard her mumble:

"I hope there isn't cum on it."

Miles hoped that too. He searched the room for a place to hide a couple of decanters and tumblers. At least they could have a couple of glasses and lie on the pillows. And hopefully he would be able to forget all about his upcoming wedding — and especially the wedding night.

He pressed a stuffed fish in several different places to be certain there was not a secret door in it. The fish seemed all blown up, as if it had just taken a giant inhalation and was large enough to contain a couple of small bottles, but he had no luck.

Alicia was bustling around behind the screen. She let out an irritated grunt.

"Do you need help?" Miles offered as he examined some of the seaweed on the wall, that felt surprisingly real to the touch. At least there was a crispness to the feel of them. No sign of hidden decanters though.

"No, I'm fine," Alicia called back.

"No cum?" Miles asked as he looked bewildered around the room. There didn't seem to be any logical place to hide the liquor unless it was hidden under some of the pillows, which would be a ridiculous place to put it.

"What?! Oh, no," came Alicia's muffled voice from behind the screen. "She must have had more than one made. This one seems fresh, at least."

Her tone of voice, at the same time prosaic and surprised, made Miles smile as he pondered where the liquor was hidden. By God, he could use a drink now.

Between the windows was a square that was a slightly different blue color than the rest of the wall. Miles stepped close to it to examine it and found that there was an edge around the odd colored square. It was about a foot high and half of that wide. Certainly large enough to contain liquor. He knocked on it. There was definitely a cavity behind it.

"Ha, I've found the liquor. Now all I have to do is figure out how to open it," Miles exclaimed.

"Try tapping the edges," came Alicia's voice.

Miles gently tapped the edge, starting at the right-hand side where the lock of a cabinet would usually be. The square popped open instantly, revealing several decanters and tumblers.

"How did you know?" Miles asked, as he reached for the brandy.

"I'm sorry. Jemima showed me in one of the other rooms." Alicia said behind him.

"You minx. You would have had me look all night." Miles said as he poured three fingers of brandy into each tumbler.

"I didn't. I told you how to open it," Alicia objected.

Miles turned to hand her the glass and didn't know whether to laugh or be turned on. The top half of the costume was made of a see-through material where only her bosom was covered with fake seashells in pearly white silk. His hands were already itching to touch her. The lower half of the costume however was made of aquamarine colored satin arranged in scales and ending in a small tale like that of a fish. It looked rather ridiculous.

Alicia grabbed the tumbler and drank about half before he had made up his mind how to react. Her hair was tumbling over one shoulder in unruly curls from being in a coiffure all day.

"How do you like my attire?" she asked, looking down at herself, then held out her arms and cocked her front knee as a form of presentation.

Miles eyed her up and down.

"She is talented, your sister," he said diplomatically.

Alicia laughed heartily, the mirth making her brown eyes shine.

“You'll have to help me onto one of those pillows," she said indicating the nearest. "And bring the brandy," she added as Miles helped her down. He sat next to her, taking a few sips of the liquor, before asking:

"How would one even . . .?" Indicating the tail.

Alicia laughed again. She moved her legs a little, revealing that the tail came apart.

"Ah, so you could have lowered yourself . . ." Miles began.

"I probably could have, but it wouldn't have been graceful at all," Alicia said and downed the rest of her brandy. Holding the tumbler out for a refill. "I know we're in a brothel and that I'm wearing this, but we were going for drunk, right?"

Miles knew what she meant and was glad that she felt the same way as him. Even though he wanted to be with her, the circumstances made him certain that he would be unable to perform. It was a strange sensation; he wanted to be with her, but not sleep with her. At least not now. He had been friendly with several of his mistresses, but never friends like he was with Alicia.

Several glasses of brandy later, he had almost forgotten that he had to marry Eleanor in only six weeks.

"May I ask you something?" Alicia said, her head was resting on his shoulder, her hair spilling out over his chest. Miles was tugging a curl absentmindedly.

"Don't you usually do it without asking permission first?" Miles teased her.

Alicia released an unladylike snort of laughter, but he could hear that she was a bit too preoccupied to find it amusing. He wondered briefly what it could be. Her nervousness did not bode well. He could simply stop her, but he was too curious to know what she wanted to ask. There were so few things she found taboo that he doubted she was often nervous.

"How do you feel about . . . marrying simply to have a son?" Alicia then asked.

Miles felt himself open his mouth, then close it without having said anything. This was not what he had expected.

"It's just . . . where I'm from, of course, people would marry to have children, but this emphasis that's put on the first-born son . . . it seems the only reason people of your rank marry," Alicia explained. She turned her head on his shoulder and he could feel her eyes on him. He moved his head to be able to see her expression better.

"It's not just about the first son, although it is important to have an heir. A lot of people of my rank, as you say, marry for companionship, affection, desire . . ."

"Money, status . . ." Alicia interrupted.

"Well, don't tell me that people of your rank don't marry for money . . ." Miles cut her off.

Alicia turned and looked at the ceiling.

"True," she admitted. "Or affection, desire or . . . what was the last word?"

Miles had to think himself and before he could answer her, she said out of nowhere.

"My parents married for love. They grew up in the country and fell in love when they were very young. My mother's family was the wealthier one and they forbade the match. My parents eloped and moved to the East End with my paternal grandmother. Scraping by to make ends meet . . ." She hesitated for a moment and Miles knew not to speak.

"My father died when I was four; they only had nine years together. I often wondered whether it was worth it. Whether my mother thought that it was worth it. She gave up everything to be with him and what did she get? Two daughters who are former courtesans, two stillborn boys, a body that has been wrecked by slaving in the weaving mill for more than twenty years . . ."

Her voice trailed off again. This time she didn't pick up her tale on her own.

"Did you ever ask her?" Miles asked gently. He knew nothing about being in love. In fact, he wasn't even sure whether he believed that it was real.

"I don't need to ask her. I know she will say that she doesn't regret anything. Her and my sister have this way of looking at each other, as if they alone understand men because they've been in love."

There was something about her voice that was both condescending and longing at the same time.

"I don't know if I believe in love . . ." Miles began. "Romantic love, that is. Obviously, some parents love their children, and I won't deny I feel a certain kinship with my sisters that some might describe as love, but romantic love . . . falling in love."

He was thinking more out loud than talking to Alicia. This was a matter that he had given a good deal of thought the last year; he was just not certain whether it was wise to voice those thoughts. But he had probably already said too much due to the liquor.

"But then shouldn't a husband and wife be able to feel that kinship, as you call it?"

"Husbands and wives, yes, or people in general. I'm not opposing that two people can grow to be fond of each other. I suppose it’s the falling in love part." He paused, waiting for her to object, but she didn't. She was just studying his face intently with her large brown eyes.

"One of my friends, my best friend, Richard, was married last year. He was the sort that all the matchmaking mamas wanted for their daughters. He would always just laugh and say that he wouldn't marry until he was at least thirty-five. Then last year, he met a young woman at a ball and within three months, they were married. He told me that he knew the moment he met her that he wanted to marry her. That it was love at first sight. Don't you find that notion ridiculous?"

Alicia didn't answer right away, but shifted her position to rest her head on his chest rather than his shoulder. She unbuttoned a button in his waistcoat and played with it as she spoke.

"It sounds incredible to have that kind of certainty. To just know." She paused, unbuttoning another button in the waistcoat, closer to his groin. Miles wondered whether it was intentional.

"Jemima said the same. That the moment she met Mr. Ramsbury, she fell in love with him. She was twenty and she and her friends had snuck into Vauxhall Gardens. She saw Mr. Ramsbury in a crowd and then she said she just knew." She turned her head to look at him. "And they are an even more unlikely couple than your friend and the lady from the ball. At least they came from the same world."

She turned her head to rest it on his chest again, unbuttoning yet another button in his waistcoat. It definitely seemed intentional now.

"I don't know . . ." Miles began as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"No, you don't," Alicia mumbled as she untucked the hem of his shirt from his trousers.