Read Online Sherri Cobb South by French Leave - Free Book Online

a morning room adjoining the hall. While he waited for his hostess’s arrival, Sir Ethan studied his surroundings. The room, while not large, was tastefully decorated in airy blue and white. So far there was nothing to suggest that this house had seen even half of the goings-on with which rumor credited it.
    “Well, well, so you are Sir Ethan Brundy,” drawled a low-pitched feminine voice.
    Sir Ethan turned toward the sound and blinked in surprise. He had not known quite what to expect of one of London’s most expensive courtesans, but the woman standing before him might have been any one of a dozen Society matrons. She was a handsome woman, a bit closer to forty than to thirty. Skillfully applied rouge and kohl did an admirable job of preserving what remained of what must have once been a stunning beauty. Her well-endowed figure was fashionably clad in an elegant morning gown not unlike those currently hanging in his own wife’s clothes-press. The discovery was somehow reassuring. Sir Ethan let out his breath, instantly more at ease.
    “Mrs. ‘utchins,” he said, bowing over her hand. “Forgive me for calling without ‘aving been introduced—”
    “Not at all,” she assured him, gesturing toward one end of a camel-backed sofa as she sank gracefully down onto the other end. “Do sit down! I have heard all about you, and read of your recent heroics in the Times. No further introduction is needed. Now, what may I do for you?”
    The question itself was innocent enough, but Sir Ethan flushed scarlet nonetheless, his newfound confidence utterly deserting him. He sat down beside her and launched into explanation. “You see, Mrs. ‘utchins, I’ve a problem—”
    “There is no need for embarrassment, Sir Ethan,” she assured him. “Many of the gentlemen who come to me have problems. I do my best to help them,” she added with a provocative smile.
    If it were possible, Sir Ethan’s countenance grew even redder. “It’s not—that sort of problem. I want—information.”
    Mrs. Hutchins arched one sculpted eyebrow. It was not the first time a gentleman had come to her for educational purposes, but these seekers after enlightenment were generally quite a bit younger. “‘Information,’ sir?” she prompted.
    “Aye. ‘Tis about me wife.”
    “I see,” said Mrs. Hutchins, nodding in sympathy. “She doesn’t understand you, I daresay.”
    “Oh, she understands me well enough. But we’ve ‘ad four children in as many years—”
    “I congratulate you,” purred Mrs. Hutchins, her carmined lips curving as she looked her visitor up and down admiringly. “You really don‘t have ‘that sort of problem,’ do you?”
    Sir Ethan elected to ignore this interruption. “The last one—six months ago, that was—was long and difficult. The baby was ‘ealthy, but I almost lost me wife.”
    “And what does this have to do with me?”
    Sir Ethan took a deep breath. “I thought there must be a way—it stands to reason—if there weren’t, you’d ‘ave at least two or three—”
    At this point Sir Ethan’s speech became so disjointed as to render it incomprehensible. Mrs. Hutchins, however, was as compassionate as she was astute, and decided to take pity on her stammering guest.
    “Come now, Sir Ethan, we are business people, you and I,” she said bracingly. “You want me to tell you if there is a way for you to bed your wife without risking a potentially fatal pregnancy. In fact, you want to eat your cake and have it, too.”
    Sir Ethan winced at her blunt speaking, but answered with equal candor. “Aye, that I do.”
    “Furthermore, you suspect that there is such a way, and that I must know of it—else, as you so eloquently observed, women in my profession would have a house full of children.”
    His expectant silence gave Mrs. Hutchins to understand that her assumptions were correct.
    “Your best bet, Sir Ethan, would be to take your pleasure elsewhere. I am free this afternoon, if you would