Free To Pleasure a Lady by Nicole Jordan Page B

obeyed, hurrying to rearrange the place settings. When Arabella was finally seated to his lordship’s right, Simpkin gestured at the two attending footmen to serve the soup course.
    When that was done, Marcus nodded. “Thank you, Simpkin. I will ring when we are ready for the next course.”
    All three servants silently withdrew, without shutting the door at least. Yet the open door couldn’t dispel the sense of intimacy Arabella felt at sitting so close to Marcus, or allay her tingling awareness of his nearness.
    Trying her best to ignore him, Arabella applied herself to the bland-looking soup, which appeared to be greasy chicken broth with a few pieces of limp vegetables. She nearly choked at the first sip, since it was so salty as to be almost inedible.
    After one taste, Marcus shot Arabella a questioning glance and then set down his spoon. Innocently, she forced herself to continue eating her soup.
    â€œSo tell me about this academy of yours,” Marcus said, his tone curious.
    â€œWhy do you want to know?”
    â€œBecause I am intrigued by it. And because I want to learn everything about you to aid my courtship.” When she grimaced slightly at the reminder, he merely smiled. “You said your academy is something of a finishing school? How did it start?”
    Since it seemed to be a safe subject, Arabella was pleased to explain. “Lady Freemantle actually gave me the idea. We became friends after my sisters and I moved here to Chiswick. Winifred was the daughter of a wealthy industrialist, but she married far above her social station and was never accepted by her husband’s family or friends. One day she confessed how difficult it had been for her, being the wife of a baronet, enduring all the slights and snubs, and that she wished someone had taught her the proper social graces so she might have competed in Sir Rupert’s milieu. I began thinking that there must be other young women in similar circumstances. Most daughters of wealthy magnates are destined to be sold into marriage to gentlemen in need of rich wives, as Winifred was.”
    â€œSo you proposed establishing the academy?”
    â€œNot at first. When I suggested I might be of help to some of them—advise them on how to fit in to the Beau Monde and make their path easier—I only envisioned taking on one or two pupils. But Winifred leapt at the idea and offered to fund a much larger enterprise.”
    â€œBut you don’t run the academy solely on your own,” Marcus said.
    â€œI have significant help. I convinced two of my friends to participate, and one assumed the post of headmistress. They oversee most of the classes, but my sisters and I also teach at least one class a day.”
    â€œNot the typical subjects, I collect?”
    â€œNo. Most of our pupils have been educated by private governesses, so by the time they come to us, they are usually proficient in sums and globe reading, music and drawing and needlepoint, those sort of genteel accomplishments. But they lack the polish and grace expected of a lady. So for the final two years before they make their comeouts, we instruct them on good deportment, rules of proper conduct, etiquette, and also expose them to the kind of culture and refinement they will find if they marry into the gentility.”
    â€œApparently your academy is a great success. My solicitors tell me you have over two dozen pupils and that there is a long list of applicants waiting for admission.”
    Arabella smiled. “Yes. We succeeded beyond our wildest expectations. Wealthy tradesmen and merchants are willing to pay huge sums to turn their daughters into refined young ladies. But our academy benefits us, as well. It not only provides us occupation and income but gratification for helping our pupils learn how to deal with society. I personally take great satisfaction in giving young girls more control over their fate. Their birth or breeding might not be of