Free The School for Brides by Cheryl Ann Smith Page A

bed to concern herself over domestic pursuits,” Rose interjected. “The only time I used a needle was to stab him in the hand when he shoved it up my skirt.” She sighed. “I was tossed out that very morning.”
    There were murmurs of sympathy all around.
    “Well deserved, Rose,” Yvette said, frowning. “You should have stabbed him in the heart.”
    Rose and Pauline giggled. “What about you, Sophie?” Rose asked. “Was your mum the domestic sort?”
    “My mum was a courtesan,” Sophie said, her voice emotionless. “She lived to pleasure her lovers. She left the sewing to the maids and my care to her sister. Auntie Jane’s only concern was her next drink.”
    Smiles faded, and the women fell silent. They all had different, yet similar, tales of woe and managed to find laughter and hope anyway. Eva had once considered herself lucky to have had a father who looked after her. Now she was not so different from her courtesans.
    In a few short days, Eva had gone from their protector and instructor to standing on the cusp of becoming one of them; a woman without options who gave her body to the highest bidder.
    That they all had not become angry and bitter was miraculous. She hadn’t yet been taken to bed by His Grace, and she was already feeling both emotions. A sense of despair had been with her since their encounter the previous day, along with waves of anger. And with his hated face ever looming in her mind, she thought the darkness of his presence would follow her always.
    “I am pleased to find you all together.” Eva changed the topic before it became too grim. She forced a smile and hoped the dark circles around her eyes weren’t noticeable. Her meeting with the duke last evening had made sleep fitful. She’d woken up several times, her body drenched with sweat and her nipples pressed against her thin nightdress as if her body was readying itself for a lover.
    Eva shifted uncomfortably on the chair. “I thought perhaps we could discuss what you learned yesterday from Cook. Perhaps Abigail would like to start.”
    They spent the next hour discussing everything one needed to know about supervising a kitchen and staff, and how to plan a menu when entertaining.
    “Who knew there was so much to learn?” Abigail said softly. “The marquis has a staff in place. I need do nothing all day but await his visit.”
    “I thought your lover was a baron?” Yvette asked.
    Abigail flushed from her roots to her neck. “Did I say baron? The baron was my first, ah, lover. The marquis is the current one.”
    Eva turned the topic back to their lessons. “Soon you will be in charge of all aspects of your homes while your husbands work,” Eva said. “And if some of you are blessed with children, you’ll have to hire a nanny and tutors, too. It is a lot of work, but running a household smoothly is very rewarding.”
    Pauline sat back in her chair, her eyes troubled. “I am not sure I can do this.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I did not even choose my own gowns. His Lordship had them brought to me by the modiste.”
    Indeed. That explained the cut of Pauline’s corsets and how her large bosom was hiked up so high it defied gravity.
    Eva frowned. No matter what dismal fate His Grace planned for her, she vowed he would never rule her life as these women’s had been ruled.
    “I have planned shopping for us tomorrow afternoon, Pauline, and you will be able to purchase gowns of your choosing.” Eva wondered if His Grace liked his lovers with their breasts aloft and their buttocks thinly veiled. She pushed the thought aside. “We will cut a swath across London and learn everything there is to know about clothing, from the skin out.”
    “I do love to shop.” Rose clapped her hands and wriggled in her chair. “The duke preferred me in pink.” She indicated her gown and grimaced. “I think I shall choose everything blue.”
    Even Sophie managed a smile. “It will be nice to wear something new that