A/N: Thanks for the reviews!
Roger Lindsay was quickly bored by Ella and her childish attitudes, because despite his outside coldness he was a man after all, a man with more needs than simple chit-chatting. However, he knew his place and was aware that he would be robbed of every chance to marry Ella, if he slept with her before she was in wife.
Roger was one of most respected and especially richest families of Boston Society. He couldn't risk for his reputation to be destroyed. Ella was what he needed for he still lacked an heir for his massive fortune, a son he could pass his name to. The good name of Lindsay family shouldn't and wouldn't be ruined by him.
Roger was too preoccupied with his thoughts to be thinking about Ella that much or to even realize that she was spending more time with Jack than with anyone else. He wanted a decent wife, but he wasn't as controlling and demanding as Caledon Hockley was. He wasn't watching her every step for he believed that this was still the duty of her aunt and her governess. What he couldn't know, because he never asked was, that Lettice had trouble with Ella ever since the day Mr. Dawson had detracted his ominous illness. Her niece and he would talk and shot glances at each other as if sharing a secret and planning out something. Often Ella would now lock herself up into her room, even though Lettice had forbidden it and when she knocked she would fake to be sleeping, only to be slipping in Mr. Dawson's room a few minutes later.
Lettice was furious, but Roger didn't seem to care. As long as his fiancée didn't betray him openly he didn't really care to whom she was talking. Mr. Dawson didn't seem to be much of chagrin to him for he figured that Lettice wouldn't allow such a relationship anyway.
The thought had come to him during a hard working day, while reading a history book. In fact the idea a first shocked him, but the more he thought about it, the more he was appealed to the notion that he would have something in common with the great French kings like Louis XIV.
Roger had decided to take a mistress or to say the least visited a prostitute on a regular basis.
But she might become more than that.
Of course not his wife, society would never forgive him. But she could be some companion for him. He felt sorry for Ella a little bit, but figured that she should know he didn't love her and would eventually accept his needs.
Roger of course had had lovers before, but they had always been one time attractions. After his first wife had died in childbirth, he had never loved anyone again. That he had been over twenty years ago. His father had demanded that he marry soon afterwards, but he had declined and after his father had died a year after, there hadn't been anyone anymore to pressure him. Now he wished he had listened to him.
Sometimes he really needed someone to talk to. He had no wife, no children, no intimate family and all his friends were in fact business partners.
Despite all his millions he was only and alone.
Ella was the person that he felt would understand him. She was far too young.
But he knew where he could find such a person. He had heard about the institute of Mrs. Pearson, as it was called, from a friend of his. It was said that she had the most beautiful and most ladylike prostitutes a man could wish for.
There he would come across someone he could share his problems with. A prostitute wasn't responsible to anyone else so there wouldn't be a difficulty, if her family had other interest´s than he. A prostitute didn't have a family.
When he arrived at the house, he instantly stumbled over a drunkard. Of course such people would also be met here. That couldn't be helped.
….
Once inside he could see that his friend had told him the truth. The establishment had indeed something special about it. Gazing around, he searched for Mrs. Pearson. His friend had defined her to him as regular middle-aged lady with hair slightly grey, who liked to wear pearls.
Indeed he made out a person, whose appearance fitted the description and he made a quick move towards her.
"Mrs. Pearson?" he spoke up questioningly as the woman turned to him.
She was talking with a girl, seemingly one of her employees.
"Are you Mrs. Pearson?"
"I'm," she said.
"I would like to speak to you in private," he whispered to her.
Mrs. Pearson looked at him starry-eyed, her mouth forming into a smile as she smelled the scent of money.
"Of course, Sir, please follow me," she told him.
She led him into a room, closing the door.
"Please sit down," she said mentioning to the sofa, before taking a seat herself and offering him some scotch, which he declined.
"Better not. I second that I need my full senses soon," he explained.
"Ah I see. So what can I do for you, Mr…?"
"My name is not important. I heard that your girls are very exquisite and you know I really need someone to…not only a girl for bed, but someone, who shares my interests, who speaks French and knows about politics…"
"You see my fiancée isn't it exactly what…"
Mrs. Pearson smiled brightly.
"I understand and believe me you've done right by coming here. I know exactly what you need and I've got it. Just wait a minute," she apologized before leaving him for a few minutes.
She returned shortly after with a girl with blonde hair.
"That's Lygia and she has everything you could wish from an official companion," she told him not wanting to use the word mistress.
"Lygia say hello to the gentleman. You will service him as long as he wishes you to."
Roger looked towards her, smiling. She seemed nervous.
"You like her?"
Roger nodded.
The girl was beautiful although there was something creepy in her eyes. He noticed that she was examining the necklace Mrs. Pearson was wearing, thinking that she was of course jealous.
"I leave you two alone now. I'm sure you've much to discuss. We'll talk later about the pay," she said extending the room and closing the door behind her.
Roger mentioned for Lygia to sit down beside him, which the girl reluctantly did.