Page 3 of A Rogue to Reform

After filling a sifter with brandy, Evan walked to the center of the room and held it up. “Spring Season begins, my friends. Desperate mothers will be all but throwing their innocent and easy-to-manipulate, well-endowered daughters at us. New widows will flounce into ballrooms burdened with the heavy weight of too many diamonds upon their throats. These women, my dear friends are ripe for the picking.”

His friends watched him with varying expressions of interest, so he continued. “And there are always the women, married to extremely rich men, who will pay handsomely for a virile body. We, gentlemen, will sell our bodies or marry to raise the capital.”

He downed the brandy, savoring not only the rich flavor, but also by the way he’d just struck every one of his friends into a shocked silence.

*

The next morning, Rosalie and the cook placed platters of eggs, thickly sliced bacon, bread, and fresh jam on the table.

“Thank you,” Henry said when one of the women poured him yet another cup of tea. “I can pour myself from now on.”

“This ship,” Miles began. “What is the name of it?”

For hours the night before, his friends had questioned him about the sponsorship of the ship. It was apparent they did not believe him; either that, or they thought he was about to be hoodwinked again.

“The Abigail, the captain’s name is Thomas MacFarland.”

Grant straightened, his green eyes narrowing. “I have heard of him. His shipments are always timely, and his boat well-stocked with spices, sugar… Why would he not have a sponsor?” he interrupted himself by asking.

“Must I repeat myself again?” Evan asked, growing annoyed. “He gave me his word to allow us to do raise the needed capital, and I believe him. He plans to remain in town for the Season. Told me he has a family here.”

Miles nodded. “We must meet him to discuss particulars.”

“I will arrange it,” Evan said. “Now, gentlemen, to the plans. There is to be a ball at the Theatre Royal this Saturday. We must procure invitations.”

Being a duke’s son, Miles was the only one who could do this. They all looked to him.

He frowned. “I believe to already have an invitation. I will accept and contact the patron and ask for you three. I am sure she will agree without hesitation.”

“Someone who will do your bidding in exchange for a bedding?” Henry asked, lifting a cup to his lips.

“A gentleman does not tell,” Miles replied, pushing from the table when the butler appeared at the doorway. “I will hear of your plans another time. I have an appointment I cannot be late for.”

When he left, the other two looked to Evan, waiting to hear what his plan was.

“With my reputation, it will be hard to convince a dowered lass’s mother I am committed. I will seduce a lonely widow. I do believe Sorcha Robertson will be at the event, she rarely misses one. This time, she will meet me, her next lover.”

Sorcha Robertson had been widowed and had been out of mourning for over a year. Since then, it was rumored that she took lovers, but only for a short spell before discarding them. Too afraid of men hunting after the fortune left to her by her late husband, she was distrusting.

Quite attractive and in her thirties, Sorcha often dressed in bright gowns that were on the brink of being garish. Her penchant for bright colors made her stand out at social functions, which was perhaps her way of gaining men’s attention. Although she didn’t easily trust, it was evident she craved attention. That was what Evan would exploit first.

Henry laughed. “You actually think to be able to seduce that woman? She is wily and won’t be easy to convince. She has no need for money or jewels.”

“There are other needs that money cannot provide,” Evan replied while cutting through the meat on his plate.

His friends exchanged bland looks.

“What about you, Henry? Who would you target?” Evan asked.

His friend looked up to the ceiling. “With my family ties, I do believe to be an attractive match for some simpering young debutante. I will hunt for the perfect one at the ball.”

“Aren’t you afraid to be bored by someone like that?” Grant asked.

Henry shrugged. “I have to marry sooner or later, and I do not believe in love; therefore, I will marry someone of my family’s choosing and grow to care for whoever it is.”

They turned to Grant who yawned widely. Upon noticing their attention, he shrugged. “I have no plan yet. I do not wish to marry, so I suppose I will be the one who will sell my body to some rich lonely wife or widow, or perhaps both.”

“Instead of clothes or gifts, this time ensure to get coin,” Evan said with a pointed look.