Free The Rossetti Letter (v5) by Christi Phillips Page A

of all, men’s ardent desire to believe.” The courtesan’s eyes sparkled with irony as she looked at Alessandra through her thick, dark lashes.
    “My point is this: being a great courtesan isn’t simply a matter of beauty, charm, or even sexuality. It’s about desire and fantasy. If men wanted only sex, then any common prostitute could satisfy them. You must ask yourself why the same man who would toss a few soldi to a tavern whore would bring me precious jewels. What men really want, and what they rarely find, is a woman who captures their hearts, minds, and souls. And no less important, a woman who flatters their vanity. Men know that when they conquer a woman whom every man covets, they are raised higher in other men’s esteem.”
    “And how am I going to be all that?”
    “I’ll help you as my mother helped me. You know, to this day I seldom allow my feet to touch ground in public—it helps to preserve the illusion of my otherworldly nature. We’ll have to think of some way to present you.”
    “Are you going to make me stand in a window?”
    “No, we should try something new, something no one’s done before. In the meantime, you still have a lot to learn.”
     
    The voyeur’s chamber was as elaborate as one of La Celestia’s jewelry chests, with walls swathed in a patterned red silk and cleverly disguised to conceal the closet-size alcove hidden between the bedroom and hallway. Alessandra peered through the peephole to the bedchamber, where La Celestia would soon arrive with one of her lovers. The scene that met her eye was superbly arranged for seduction. Except for a few candles that flickered in the far corners, the room was lit only by the roaring fire. Its welcoming corona illuminated the thick rug that had been placed in front of the hearth, and the small table set with a bowl of fruit, a carafe of wine, and two glasses. La Celestia’s extravagant bed waited, tantalizingly, at the very edge of the firelight, its white silk sheets glowing with a warm, subtle sheen.
    “Did you enjoy sex with Signor Liberti?” La Celestia had asked Alessandra earlier that day.
    “I suppose,” she had answered slowly, wishing that she didn’t feel embarrassed by the question. If she were going to be a courtesan, she would have to overcome her reserve. “It wasn’t terrible.”
    La Celestia laughed. “Not terrible? That isn’t much of an endorsement. But accurate, as I recall. Sex with Lorenzo was rather…uninspired.”
    “You and Lorenzo?” Alessandra said, astonished.
    “I’m very popular,” La Celestia replied with a coy smile and a shrug. “The thing is, at eighteen you’re too old to pass for a virgin, and I’m probably not the only one who knows about Signor Liberti, so that method of captivation is closed to us. It would behoove you instead to learn more of the arts of love. Since I’m certain that Lorenzo didn’t teach you, I suppose I’ll have to do it myself.”
    “Is that how you learned, from another courtesan?”
    “My mother showed me a few things, but most of it I learned on my own. As it turns out, I am very well suited to my profession. I have a natural desire for love that is not easily satisfied. While this isn’t an absolute requirement for a courtesan, it certainly makes life more pleasant.” She looked at Alessandra searchingly. “Did you ever feel pleasure with Lorenzo?”
    “Sometimes…not always.”
    “I’m not surprised. I don’t think he gave much thought to a woman’s gratification. Happily, though, not all men are like that. In fact, this evening I’m seeing one of my current favorites—he’s young, vigorous, and quite remarkable in bed, as you’ll see.”
    “As I’ll see?” The shocked look on Alessandra’s face must have been extreme indeed, for La Celestia burst into laughter.
    “You won’t be in the room with us,” she said, and then she’d taken Alessandra to the voyeur’s chamber. “He’ll never know you’re here,” she promised.