Chapter 11

Dancing had been one of the ventures Mendora missed dearly since she’d chosen to transform her body, but sacrifice was a part of the game for her freedom. Unexpected and heart roaring to find Solaire offering her his hand as a dance partner. But unfortunate. Unable to risk him learning of her well-kept secret. She’d denied.

“Are you ashamed to stand with me, miss?” he had the gall to appear hurt but Mendora was logical enough to know her rejection had targeted his pride. Or he was merely teasing her, she knew little of his character to assume with accuracy. But if she knew nothing, if all the years of self-teaching and nurturing of her intellect was able to give her just enough sense, it would be to the grand effect that this man before her knew fully well that no woman would ever feel shame to stand beside him. If anything, Mendora felt embarrassed at having to stand before such a character.

“I draw enough attention to myself as is. Dancing with you would put a target on my back.” Mendora snickered, assured that she could be murdered for simply being unworthy to stand in his presence, much less to have a conversation with him.

The frequency in which she utilised her voice had a startlingly calming effect on Solaire. Never before could he have handled listening to the voice of a woman this long and he knew he saw her far beyond the deformity curving around her left shoulder blade and if made to, could confess that he barely recognised it at all when in her presence. It didn’t define Mendora and he hoped the world would take upon the notion as well.

“And why is that?” he enquired with little effort, soaking up the head easing sound of her, itching to have her sing instead of the god-awful wench who’d been hounding the grand piano in the corner.

“Every female and their mother has had their sight upon you from the moment you ventured in here, I will not be convinced otherwise.” She replied as if it were some heavily guarded secret, widening her eyes at him as if to send some covert signal his way.

“That should affect me?” Solaire had no interest in who’s attentions he was drawing, stepping closer to Mendora. Shades of oak and whiskey circling her sensory gateways with such precision that she gone positively giddy.

“Before the night has passed you’ll find yourself being introduced to many families with a female or two left on the marriage market. I am certain the men are already waiting for an opportune time,” She teased. It was improper for the matrons to introduce their daughters to men they’ve never been acquainted to, that task rested in the able palms of the men. After all, the only equal of a man was a man.

“My interest in marrying remains unconsidered to the ton’s mind is that it?” Solaire promoted for conversation sake, he’d known his ability to remain successfully unmarried thus far has been a credit to his will power not to compromise an innocent. Non-conformance to the ways of a gentlemen did have its pro’s. His conscious was never assaulted or weakened. Not until he’d been given leave to explore the darkness that was teaming with life in Mendora’s large, round orbs.

“Ahh, well. A man of your good looks and fortune is expected to want to wife.” A smile tickled at her lips, as genuine as he’d seen from her since their meeting.

“You think I have good looks?” he shifted the cane from hand to hand, pressing the point on the floor to bare some of his weight, a slight shift closer but unrecognisable to anyone else. Mendora’s smile flickered much like a dying flame as the realisation of her words struck her. For heaven’s sake, she had no right point out the looks of a man.

“I think,” she giggled in the manner he’d expected had she been intoxicated, her cheeks flushed, how could it not be with the sheet of clothing she had wrapped around her. “your looks are off a secondary nature given the talks of how fortunate you are.”

Unsurprised that talks about him had already reached her ears. “Fortune makes the man worthy?” he sought her opinion on this. Certainly many families sought an advantageous marriage for their daughter, of that Solaire was not blind but he’d prefer to be capable of respecting his own daughter than to sell her off to someone who’d only see her as a source of income. The entire underpinning was intolerable to him. How lucky he was wife and childless indeed.

“Hence the reason their masculinity is fragile from a lack of it. If a man were to offer his wife financial security then that was the end of his obligations in his mind, were the tables reversed, he’d haven’t a clue on how to start being a proper husband.” This Mendora held passionately, she’d observed it over the years of her upbringing and had vowed not to be a statistic. But the fates had humbled her expectations for own life when she was reminded that as a woman, she had no real say in how her life would turn out if she were to marry. Every well-crafted notion of love, of a husband who desired none other than her had crumbled on a night very much like this one. Bitterness swelled within her at the thought. A strong feminine urge to be as powerful and wealthy as these men rose within her. How pleasing it would be give them a taste of their own bitter medicine?

Solaire was able to distinguish in her eyes only negative emotions and again he found his chest tightening. To forget those big round eyes would be a task, they’d haunt him in his sleep. “And what makes a proper husband in your mind?” He knew what a proper husband to many young girls were, a wealthy husband with powerful connections. Just as Mendora postulated, financial stability was the ultimate goal for a happy union and yet he knew many couples that searched elsewhere for fulfilment. His own mother a disparaging example.

“Decency.” She laughed with a twist of her eyebrows but she was thinking on it, “Communication, loyalty and emotional security and not on the part of the wife alone. Procuring wealth doesn’t teach or guarantee this basic human desires.”

“I can tell you’ve put a lot of thought on the subject, very insightful indeed.”

“I’ve put a lot of thought in a multitude of subjects,” she replied with a coquettish smile she’d often found employment for when she was searching for a husband. Checking herself, she morphed the smile into a dimmer display before continuing, “but as a woman who’d grown up with the single task of making their family proud by securing an advantageous marriage, these topics I’ve had no shortage of time to ponder it.”

Solaire considered her words, as they were once more interrupted. The brightness in her eyes and the animation in her bones dulled significantly as she withdrew.

“My Lord,” Aldrich’s patience had evaporated like a cloud of smoke baring his entrance into the private conversation between Mendora` and Solaire. Why would the Marquess possibly have any interest in entertaining Mendora? The man wondered at what trouble his irate daughter must have conjured. She’d been running wild and free since he’d scolded her. “I apologise on behalf of my daughter,” he shot her a terrifying look, one of a viper ready to strike its prey dead. “Apologise to his Lordship for your impertinence.” His voice grating against her skin like rusted steel.

Mendora’s jaw tightened, Solaire caught the miniscule reaction as she took in breath ready to apologise to Solaire as her father demanded.

“I am to hold the blame,” he ensured his thoughts were priority over hers. “I’ve heard of Miss Garrick’s charity to the children in the workhouses.” His eyes mapping every reaction in her as he voiced the words. It would shake her to find that Solaire had enquired after her in the days following their first meeting. The affairs he’d encountered had only sparked his interest in the girl. A credit to their community and despite that she was a pariah amongst the garish ton. “I am interested in joining such a noble endeavour and thought Miss Garrick the perfect intermediary.” It was no lie; he’d been invested in her efforts from the moment he’d learnt of it.

Hoping to the God’s that he was earnest, “With your backing, many people may have better access to medicine, clothes and provisions and may spark other noble families to take interest.” She was one woman offering education and provisions as she was able too, but it was not enough. While the children there were provided lessons, there seemed no great need to teach them the art of reading and writing and Mendora despised the notion of a pauper denied access to basic human skills. She believed that the circumstances of one’s birth should not dictate their future. “Families may have revived hope of being reunited.” The thought mending the broken parts of her that had learned the grotesque act of splitting families apart once they’ve entered the workhouses.

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Her excitement bursting uncontrollably, gearing his interest further. “I’ll have my men set up a fund and be minded that Miss Mendora Garrick is to have full, unfettered access.”

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A/N

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