“If it were only that easy, my lady,” Anne said tartly, “we would all be more than happy to help Lady Weston. But as it is, we must first find a gentleman who is willing to give us carte blanche, all the while hoping that he is not prone to abuse—”

“—or unnatural practices,” said Beverly.

“—or has the pox,” added Laura.

“—or gambles away his fortune,” nodded Madelyn.

“Or a man who will find someone new and discard us as if we were nothing but rubbish,” finished Anne.

Gillian was shocked at this side of the ladybird trade. “But surely there is something you can do to prepare for those eventualities? Save your funds earned…ah…in the course of your service?”

The women all laughed identical hard, bitter laughs. “We do save when possible, my lady, and sell any baubles given us, but that only goes so far, and then the time comes when we must again look for a protector or be forced into less desirable circumstances,” Madelyn said.

“What could be less desirable than being a mistress?” Charlotte asked.

“Charlotte, if you cannot behave, you will have to leave. Ladies—” Gillian spread her hands wide in a helpless gesture. “I wish there was something I could do for you. I can, of course, pay you a modest sum for your time helping me.”

“A modest sum?” Anne asked. “How modest a sum?”

Gillian calculated her next quarter’s pin money and divided it into four. “Ten pounds?”

The women all looked at one another again; then Madelyn spoke. “Since all the others are currently seeking protectors, and as my husband is…well, he’s in gaol, we accept your offer. What is it in particular you want us to do?”

Gillian told them.

Charlotte offered her advice. “You should not forget this last mistress, the one who sent Lord Weston the letter.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, Charlotte. Noble’s latest mistress was someone named Mariah. I don’t know her surname, but I would imagine it would not be too difficult to find out.”

The ladies agreed that it would not be difficult, and promised to find the whereabouts of the mysterious Mariah.

“As for the other thing,” Gillian said slowly, nibbling on her lower lip. “Have you thought of organizing yourselves—mistresses, I mean—into a group? A guild, if you will, that would help members in times of need?”

The women, Charlotte included, stared at her as if she had suddenly sprouted wings. “A…mistresses guild?” Laura asked.

“Yes, a mistresses guild. For the…” Gillian gnawed on her lip for a moment. “For the welfare and betterment of the demimonde. You could arrange to have dues from those members who are currently…ah…employed, which go into a general fund to help those who find themselves unemployed and in need of assistance.”

The women all blinked at her.

“Do you know,” Madelyn said slowly, “that might be a thought. If we encourage enough women to join and subscribe for a set amount while they have carte blanche, we could set aside money for those women who are in between gentlemen.”