Slightly Sinful Read Free Page A

"Any ideas, anyone? Is there some nabob we can rob?"
    They all began naming various gentlemen, presumably their clients, who were or had been staying in Brussels. Rachel recognized a few of the names. But the ladies were not serious. They paused after naming a dozen or so and snickered merrily-a relief to them, no doubt, after the terrible realization today that all their savings were gone, stolen by a rogue masquerading as a clergyman.
    Flossie plopped herself down on the settee and picked up one of the cakes from the plate. "Actually there may be a way," she said, "though we would have to act quickly. And it would not be robbing exactly. A person cannot rob the dead, can she? They have no further use for their things."
    "Lord love us, Floss," Phyllis said, sinking down beside her, a cup and saucer in her hands, "whatever are you thinking of? I am not going about raiding any churchyards, if that is what you have on your mind. The very idea! Can you picture the four of us, shovels over our shoulders-"
    "The dead from the battle, I am talking about," Flossie explained, while all the rest of them looked at her, arrested, and Rachel hugged her shawl more tightly about her. "Loads of people will be doing it. Hordes of them are already out there, I would wager, pretending to look for loved ones but really looking for loot instead. It is an easy thing for women to do. All we would need is a pathetic, slightly frantic look and a man's name on our lips. We would have to get out there soon, though, if we were to have a chance of finding anything of any value. We could make back everything we have lost if we were lucky-and diligent."
    Rachel could hear teeth chattering, realized they were her own, and clamped them firmly together. Raiding the dead-it sounded lurid. It sounded like the stuff of nightmares.
    "I don't know, Floss," Bridget said doubtfully. "It doesn't seem right. But you aren't serious anyway, are you?"
    "Why not?" Geraldine asked, both hands raised expansively. "As Floss said, it wouldn't be exactly robbing, would it?"
    "And we wouldn't be hurting anyone," Flossie said. "They are already dead."
    "Oh, goodness." Rachel set both palms against her cheeks and held them there. "I am the one who should be finding a solution. This is all my fault."
    Everyone's attention swung her way.
    "It is not, my love," Bridget assured her. "It most certainly is not. If it is anyone's fault, it is mine for allowing you to notice me and for letting you come inside this house. I must have had rocks in my head."
    "It was not your fault, Rache," Geraldine agreed. "It was our fault. We four have oceans more experience with men than you do. I thought I could pick out a rogue from a mile away with one eye shut. But I was taken in by that handsome villain just as surely as you were."
    "So was I," Flossie added. "I had kept a firm grip about the purse strings for four years until he came along with his sweet talk of loving and honoring us because we shared the same profession as that Magdalene woman, and Jesus loved her. I would slap myself about the head if it would do any good. I gave him our savings to take back to England to deposit safely in a bank. I let him take the money-I even thanked him for taking it-and now it is all gone. It was my fault more than anyone's."
    "Not so, Floss," Phyllis said. "We all agreed to it. That's what we have always done-planned together, worked together, made decisions together."
    "But I introduced him to you," Rachel said with a sigh. "I was so proud of him for not shunning you. I brought him here. I betrayed you all."
    "Nonsense, Rache," Geraldine said briskly. "You lost everything you had to him too, didn't you, the same as we did? And you had the courage to come back and tell us about it when as far as you knew we might have bitten your head off."
    "We are wasting time with this pointless talk about who is to blame," Flossie said, "when we all know who is to blame. If we don't decide to get out fast to where