An Introduction to Pleasure (3 page)

Andrew pursed his lips. He knew what those in his former circles said about him. He had received at least two accusatory letters from old friends who called him all manner of names because he had turned them away again and again. But he didn’t want to get into a long discussion about those facts with Vivien. In the end, he hardly knew the woman and he refused to discuss his personal life with his own family; why would he drag it out for her to see?

He shrugged. “Perhaps I simply like you more.”

She tilted her head. “If that is true, than I am flattered.”

“
But
,” he stressed, “my time today is short. There must be some reason you called me here beyond wishing to press me about why I no longer see our mutual friends.”

Vivien nodded as she got to her feet. “There is. Would you follow me out onto my terrace and I will clarify my reasons?”

Andrew wrinkled his brow. The terrace? What an odd request. Odd and somewhat intriguing. He got to his feet and followed her to the double doors that led out onto a sunny terrace. There was a table and chairs there, but Vivien passed those by and moved to the terrace wall. She leaned there and looked out over her gardens.

Slowly, Andrew joined her. He had no idea what this was all about, but it felt just a little like an ambush to him. Though what Vivien could hope to ensnare him into, he couldn’t say. Entrapment had never been her personality; in fact it was just the opposite: Vivien caught with honey, not vinegar.

“What is this all about?” he asked, perhaps a bit more peevishly than he had intended to sound.

She didn’t react to his sharper tone.

“How much do you hear about your old circles now that you have divorced yourself from the life you once led?”

Andrew faltered. The woman was shrewd and had just summed up exactly what he’d done. “Not much,” he finally admitted softly.

“Then perhaps you do not know that I am no longer the mistress to any man in Society.” She smiled and he saw a flicker of relief to her expression that he had not expected. Vivien had always seemed contented in her role in the world. “But I continue to keep myself in that world. I have recently begun matching young women with protectors.”

Andrew nodded. “Er, yes, I believe I might have heard such a thing in passing.”

For the life of him, he couldn’t remember who had said that, but he did not think it was new information.

“But what does that have to do with me?”

Vivien motioned to the gardens below. “Do you see the girl in my rose maze below?”

Andrew followed the direction of her elegant hand and was surprised to see that there was, indeed, a woman in the garden below.

“Yes?”

He turned toward Vivien and found she was holding out a spyglass for him.

“Look a little closer, you could hardly see any detail of her from all the way up here.”

He tilted his head in increasing confusion. “Vivien—”

“Please,” she insisted, her tone firm.

With a grunt, Andrew took the glass from her hand and peered through the viewer to the young woman below. As he focused on her face, his breath caught.

She was utterly lovely. Chestnut locks framed a face with high cheekbones and full lips, not to mention china-blue eyes that lit up with delight as she paused to sniff this flower or that. Her clothing was well-worn, but when she twisted to observe her surroundings, it accentuated soft curves.

Andrew shifted as a most unfamiliar feeling began to stir his loins. Desire, hot and powerful, pumped through his veins, and he lowered the spyglass in shock. He hadn’t had such a strong reaction to a woman in years.

“I assume you like what you see,” Vivien said softly.

Andrew clenched his teeth. There was no hiding the swelling of his cock through the tight breeches he wore, and Vivien was too aware of such things not to notice.

“She is, obviously, very pretty,” he said coolly as he handed the glass back to Vivien and turned away.

He tried to think of anything,
anyone
, that might force the inconvenient blood upward.

“She is looking for a protector,” Vivien said from behind him. “I thought you might be the right match for her.”

Andrew spun around, no longer caring if his erection was obvious. “I beg your pardon?” he barked.

In the face of his outrage, he expected Vivien to step away or flinch. Instead, she maintained her ground and kept her gaze focused firmly upon him.

“Her name is Lysandra Keates, and she arrived uninvited on my doorstep a few days ago. I do not know the particulars of her situation as of yet, but my impression is that she is in dire straits. She has begged me to match her with a man.”

“I am not looking for a mistress!” Andrew snapped, but he couldn’t help a brief, powerful image of the girl in the garden…in his bed, her legs wrapped around him as he drove into her.

“So I assumed,” Vivien said. “But I fear this young woman perhaps has had limited experience with the physical aspects of passion. Perhaps a tumble with a man who promised her a life and then abandoned her. She may even have been forced. She believes she can handle whatever being a mistress would entail, but I have my doubts. The men in my circles expect their mistresses to be bold, daring, passionate. Lysandra could get swallowed up by them.”

Andrew had been staring, mesmerized as Vivien recounted the details of Lysandra’s request, but now he shook off his interest. “And again, what does this have to do with me?”

“I need a man who would be willing to gently introduce her to pleasure. One who would be patient with her fears and yet experienced enough to turn her into a mistress any man would desire.”

Andrew opened his mouth, but found he could say nothing for a moment. Once again, images bombarded his mind. Illicit. And much more befitting the man he had once been many years before.

“No!” he barked, more to himself than to her. “No. I appreciate you are trying to help this young woman in your own way, but I am
not
the one to take her under my wing.”

Vivien moved closer, and Andrew groaned. The woman was a sorceress. She knew how to look at a man and sway him. He was not entirely immune to that ability, despite not wishing to have her in his bed.

The other woman, though…
Lysandra
…that was another story.

“My lord,” she said softly. “Andrew, I knew you before…” She paused. “…before everything changed. I know the desires you pursued and the lust you then had for women and for life. I hate to see you as you are now: isolated and in obvious pain.”

Andrew turned his face, desire gone in an instant. He did
not
speak of these things to anyone. Ever.

“Nonsense,” he snapped.

Vivien hesitated a moment, then stepped back with her hands lifted. “Very well, I may be wrong. But this would be a favor for me and for Lysandra. And it might even help you.”

Andrew moved to the edge of the terrace and looked down over the gardens again. Lysandra had taken a seat on a bench in the middle of the garden and now had a rose in her hand. She brushed it over her own cheek absently, and the desire that had been quashed rushed back over Andrew in a dizzying wave.

He had spent years wallowing in his own pain and guilt, knowing he deserved both. Now the idea that the pain could disappear for a moment… It was bewitching. So tempting to think that a person could make him forget, even briefly.

“There would be no expectation that this…
situation
would be permanent?” he asked softly.

He could hear the smile in Vivien’s tone as she said, “No. Lysandra would learn under your tutelage, nothing more. You could send her back to me at any time. Although if you end up liking her and wish to make her your mistress more permanently, then I would, of course, leave the details of that arrangement up to the two of you.”

Andrew shook his head without taking his eyes off Lysandra. “No. I will take no permanent mistress. A month, that is all. Just a month with this woman and I will ensure she is ready for a man with loftier expectations in his bed.”

Vivien hesitated before she said, “Very well.”

Andrew turned away from Lysandra and straightened his jacket. “You may send her to my London home tomorrow at two. Tell her not to be late.”

Vivien nodded. “I will do so. Thank you, my lord.”

Andrew wanted to look at Lysandra one final time, but he forced himself not to do so. Instead, he strode to the doors that led back into the house.

“I must excuse myself, I have another appointment.”

Vivien followed him into the parlor. “Of course. It was good to see you again, my lord.”

Andrew said some kind of pleasantry, he wasn’t sure what and headed into the foyer and back out onto the street where his rig was waiting for him. But as he got into the phaeton and urged his horses toward home, he couldn’t help but flash back to the images of Lysandra in the garden.

She was utterly desirable, but he wondered if he would come to regret his choice to surrender to these baser instincts. After all, the first man had also given in to his desires in a garden.

And it hadn’t ended well for him.

Lysandra followed Vivien’s butler, Nettle, back into the parlor where she had first met the woman a few days before. It had been a long morning, one where she had been called here only to be sent into the garden to await her fate. And while she could appreciate the beauty of that place…well, there was still a lump in her chest. One of fear that Vivien had reconsidered helping her and that was why she’d been forced to wait so long.

As she entered the room, she was surprised to see Vivien already there. There was an unreadable expression on the other woman’s face, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Good afternoon, Lysandra.”

Lysandra shook off her fears and forced herself into the room. “Good afternoon. Thank you for seeing me again.”

Vivien first motioned the servant away and then waved to the same chairs where Lysandra had first confessed her embarrassing secret. She flushed as she took one.

“I have news,” Vivien said with a smile that looked like a cat gotten into cream.

Lysandra shifted, uncertain if she could trust Vivien’s smug satisfaction. “Y-yes?” she squeaked.

“A few moments ago, a man left my home. You may know his name. Viscount Andrew Callis?”

Lysandra shook her head with a heavy dose of hesitation. “No, I’m afraid it isn’t familiar to me. I wasn’t of the
ton
, you see.”

Both Vivien’s eyebrows lifted delicately. “My dear, a good mistress must know of men of rank and power. But never mind, it will all be part of your tutelage. I will be certain to send you a copy of
Debrett’s
once you are settled.”

“Tutelage?” Lysandra repeated weakly.

“Yes. You see, what a man expects from his mistress is beyond, I think, what you may be ready for.” Vivien smiled at her kindly to soften the words. “But this man, the viscount, is a man of vast experience in pleasure. And he has agreed to tutor you for a month and ready you for a more permanent protector. You are to meet with him in his home tomorrow.”

Lysandra gripped the armrests of her chair with both hands, hard enough that her knuckles whitened and pain shot up to her elbows.

“Oh.”

Vivien tilted her head. “Is this not what you wanted?”

Lysandra swallowed hard. “It is, of course. As I said, I have no alternatives.”

Vivien leaned forward and covered Lysandra’s hand with hers. “Please don’t worry yourself. This man will take care of you as a man would his mistress. You will not have to worry about money or a place to stay or clothing while you are under his care. And he will be gentle with you.”

Lysandra nodded. The idea of having the burden of her financial woes lifted from her was comforting, at least. The rest…well, it was what she had asked for.

“And,” Vivien continued, “you will be helping him, as well.”

Lysandra stared at her. She could not have understood that statement correctly. “Helping him? How?”

Vivien’s expression softened with sadness. “The viscount has a sad history. He may not realize it, but he needs you as much as you need him.”

Lysandra pursed her lips. “I’m not certain I understand.”

“You will. Someday. Now, why don’t we share in some tea and I will see if one of my gowns might be a good fit for you for tomorrow.”

Lysandra smiled as Vivien bustled out of the room to call for tea and make other arrangements. She wasn’t certain she believed Vivien when she said Lysandra would one day understand. But the idea that she might help someone else during this trying time actually helped her.

And she was so nervous that she needed all the assistance she could get.

Chapter Four

Lysandra’s hands shook as she followed the expensively liveried butler to a parlor that was far bigger than the entire set of rooms she let at present. And dear God, the furnishings! She was almost afraid to sit on them, for they clearly cost a fortune and were meant for important guests, not utterly common women attempting to become mistresses.