Free The Love List by Deb Marlowe

included.”
    Aldmere crossed back to his desk.  Gingerly now, he lifted the sheaf of papers, rifled through until he found a page titled Brothel of Distinction and Disguise: H W’s Secret Whorehouse.
    “Cor, that house has a whole section to itself.”  Joe Watts waved a hand toward the papers on the desk.  “They are going to be right popular in a week or two.  That’s why I wanted to go early.”
    He set the stack down again before he could glimpse what had been written about the girl before him. 
    “And Hestia,” Miss Wilmott’s voice cracked now as her composure had refused to do.  “Good heavens, the filth they’ve written about Hestia.  She’ll be ruined,” she whispered.  “After all the good she’s done . . .”
    He considered.  It was a devastatingly brilliant maneuver, if it had been done with a mind for revenge.  Society had been unable to make up its collective mind about Brynne Wilmott.  Some merely assumed she was wicked.  Some speculated that she had found herself in the family way and run to escape the wrath of her father and betrothed.  But there had been those who had known the girl, who had quietly expressed disbelief and shock.  It had led to more than a few glances askance at both of those men, and whispered questions wondering what about one or both of them would send a gently bred girl fleeing. 
    He looked at the stack of papers.  This would bring an end to speculation, however.  She would be reviled.  Scorned more than she had been already.  She’d spoken of plans?  After this, her only plan should be how to escape to the Continent.
    “It’s my fault,” she whispered again.  She took a step back and sank down into the chair he’d motioned her toward earlier.  “They are old and bitter rivals, Hestia and Marstoke.  But I didn’t know!  I humiliated him, and then I ran to his oldest enemy.”  She bit her lip.  “And now—look at what’s happened.  He’s found a way to destroy us both in one fell swoop.”  Color suffused her face.  “It’s bad for me, of course, and terrible timing, but when I think of all that Hestia does, and how she might not be able to continue. . . .”  She scowled and folded in on herself. 
    Was she truly worried more for Hestia Wright than for herself?  He eyed her closely.  It was uncomfortable—and incredibly affecting—seeing this girl with her eyes downcast and her shoulders slumped.  He preferred her vibrantly defiant.  “We’re talking of Hestia Wright,” he said bracingly.  “Noted former courtesan?  Queen of the demi-monde, both in England and abroad for years?  I believe she knows a bit about weathering scandal.”
    The older woman stood a better chance than this girl, at any rate.  Hestia had supporters in England and abroad, in government, society and business.  Some helped with donations, of course, others with influence, advice or opportunities for women who had none. 
    Brynne Wilmott, it seemed, had only Hestia Wright. 
    “You don’t understand.  Marstoke has tried to destroy her for years.  He’s spoken against her, belittled her efforts, bankrolled vandals, even had the house raided by constables.  But this is on a different scale entirely, far more widespread, and with the weight of publication behind it.  I just became the perfect weapon he can use to finally tear her down.  If people believe that she is taking in girls, from the streets, from the hands of abusive pimps—and from the ranks of the ton —only to prostitute them for her own profit . . . the results will be devastating.”
    Wearily, Aldmere moved again and dropped into his seat across from her. “I sincerely hope you are wrong.  I assure you that I never said a word to Tru about the incidents in the Dalton’s library that night.  And while I was unaware of what he was up to regarding this List, you can be sure I shall speak to him about it.”
    “You’ll speak to him?”  If one could be said to have