Page 32 of Benefactor to the Baroness (The Seductive Sleuths #3)
T he days passed in a blissful haze. Fontaine occupied her time reading the few books she could find or making herself useful by mending tears in clothing or entertaining the first-class guests by playing the pianoforte. Rosemary joined her in most of these tasks, sitting beside her as they chatted about everyday matters, avoiding all discussion of what would happen at the end of the journey. With each sunrise, an increasing sense of desperation filled her, even as she tried not to think about what awaited them.
The nights, though.
The nights were different.
Fontaine went to her cabin every evening, eager to explore more of Rosemary’s body. She never tired of finding new ways to make Rosemary gasp. Through their explorations, they discovered a strip of highly sensitive skin along Fontaine’s spine, and a similar spot on Rosemary’s thigh. No matter how tired they were at the end of each day, they spared at least an hour to enjoy themselves. This time proved increasingly necessary for Fontaine, as their activities allowed her to shed the mounting anxiety she felt with the passing of time.
It was on the last day of their journey, according to the captain, that Fontaine finally allowed herself to consider what would happen when they arrived in London. She was lying beside Rosemary on a hammock they had strung up inside their cabin, staring at the even planks of the ceiling, feeling the gentle motion of the ship rocking back and forth, when she said, “Would you marry me?”
Rosemary made a choking sound. “W-What? Two women cannot marry. Not in London or Halifax.”
She pursed her lips. “I know. But what if we could? Would you marry me?”
Rosemary rolled on her side and put her head on Fontaine’s chest, a position they had found was one of the most comfortable for both of them in the swinging mesh hammock. “Of course I would. Why do you ask?”
She wasn’t entirely sure. The idea had popped into her mind, the way so many things had when she had been a child and had dreamed of attracting the attention of a wealthy family. She had spent hours as a child imagining what it would be like to go to sleep without feeling the pangs of hunger, to wear clothes that were not grimy and full of holes. Perhaps that was why, when she’d achieved those moments, it hadn’t felt real. If she had imagined them, how could they possibly have come true?
“Is it time to discuss what will happen tomorrow?” Rosemary asked.
“I think it is.” She stared at a crack in the floor above her that bisected a plank, dividing it into two ragged sections of roughly equal size. “If Mr. Blake reads that letter before we arrive and learns of our relationship, he will tell the board, and they will expel me.” This was something they both had known for weeks, but she had to get the words out of her mind. Denying Mr. Prue’s claims would be painful, but she would do it if it meant they could stay together. The problem was that it would only work if the board had not already turned against her. They didn’t know if Mr. Blake had opened the letter from Mr. Prue and spread the news. They might be returning to London to discover their names in every newspaper in the city.
“There is still a chance, however small,” Rosemary said. She traced a circle with her finger on Fontaine’s chest. “Don’t give up yet.”
Fontaine hated Mr. Prue and Mr. Blake for ruining her chance at having everything she wanted. If it weren’t for their spiteful act, they could have continued their relationship in secret. Women living with companions was common. Two widowed women cohabiting would hardly be glanced at twice. It was not as if either of them were debutantes.
But the odds of them arriving before Mr. Blake opened Mr. Prue’s letter were slim. The moment Mr. Blake learned of her predilection, he would tell everyone he knew. Within days, she would no longer receive the invitations she relied upon to charm members of the ton into supporting her causes.
There had to be a way for her to gather benefactors without participating in the balls and other events that members of the ton were so fond of. She had never enjoyed flaunting her wealth or speaking words she didn’t mean. If she had to give up society, she would gladly do so if she could find a replacement source of funding.
If only they had another source of wealth. Then they could be happy together without requiring the help of patrons.
There had to be a way. They just had to find it.