Free The Bartered Virgin by Chevon Gael

David will be here to collect you at any moment.”
    Winn yelled back from inside her bedroom. “Yes, Mama.”
    Somehow the prospect of this evening’s supper didn’t seem as foreboding as it had last night. She supposed it was partly due to her relief that Mother knew nothing of today’s escapade. And partly to her feeling genuinely thankful David had saved her life. Perhaps there was merit in his character, after all. The thought did occur to her that if she had fallen out of the tree and died he wouldn’t have to marry her. But then, there would be no money. So it really was in his best interest to save her. Maybe she shouldn’t be so thankful after all.
    Winn accepted a shawl from Margaret, who fussed and primped over her carefully-constructed Gibson coif. “Tell Mother I’m nearly ready.” Winn needed to get the maid out of her room so she could retrieve the book from under her mattress. Once Margaret had gone downstairs, she slipped the book out of its hiding place and wrapped it in her shawl.
    The gown her mother chose was a rich satin of shell pink-and-white stripes. The thin shoulder straps bared more than Winn was comfortable with but the white evening length gloves gave the impression of being less bare than she felt. The bodice was dipped a little lower for evening and bordered with a tiny row of lace tatting. Yards of satin were gathered behind and draped over a modest bustle. A matching beaded reticule completed the outfit.
    She heard the doorbell chime. Her mother’s ringing voice sang up the stairs.
    “David, do come in. How handsome you look this evening.”
    Winn knew the drill. She was never to descend until after company arrived. Then she could float down the staircase in some nouveau haute couture confection her mother had paid a fortune for so her guests could gasp in awe and compliment Mary on what a beautiful daughter she had and what excellent taste she possessed.
    Luckily there was only David tonight. And, for some reason, Winn hoped she would inspire that same admiration in him.
    “Who dressed you in that hideous rag?” he snapped once they were in his carriage.
    She turned to him, ready to retaliate. But he cut her off.
    “And don’t tell me how much it cost or that it was inspired by Worth. It looks like a dozen other frocks I’ve seen hanging off any number of Southampton dockside whores. Really, with all your father’s money, you’d think they’d turn you out better than this.” He waved his hand over her figure. She was sure if he were a magician, she’d be instantaneously changed by his gesture.
    “You insolent cad! If you think you’re going to spend the evening doing nothing but insulting me then you can turn this carriage around. I’ll not be seen at Delmonico’s with you!” She folded her arms across her breast and stared out the carriage window.
    “You’ll not be seen at Delmonico’s with me anyway. We’re dining at my hotel.”
    “What? My mother chose this dress specifically because Mrs. Astor is going to be at Delmonico’s this evening. Mother expects us to appear in the Ward McAllister column when the Circular comes out this week. What am I going to tell her?”
    “Tell her the truth. That Lord Wolshingham with his centuries-old title considers it beneath him to be seen in the company of nouveau riche Knickerbockers. Believe me, she’ll understand.”
    Winn gave him a venomous stare, unwilling to let the insult to her class go undefended. “What about my father? Where do you consider him in your snobbery?”
    “Lovely Winn, your father is a solicitor and, as such, is considered only fit for knighthood. He and his kind are barely tolerated on the outskirts of the aristocracy, similar to politicians. A necessary evil these days.”
    “I doubt President Roosevelt would share your opinion.”
    “Dearest, your darling Teddy is a warmongering scamp.”
    “That’s treason!” she cried.
    “It’s merely an opinion, hardly treason. Old Georgie lost that