Eleanor, the Countess of Dalrymple, has debts to pay... and only her delectable body to pay with.
EXPLICIT: This erotic short story contains explicit heterosexual sex.
Excerpt: Eleanor turned to see Madame holding the new bonnet aloft. There were little spangles sewn to the band, she noted, tiny points of light that gave a ethereal glimmer to it. With her pale walking dress, she would look like a fairy princess.
"What did you mean, that I wouldn't be able to... entertain a man?"
"Only that you are very young and inexperienced, my dear Countess, and few gently-bred girls of your age have the fortitude to face men in such a state. It is no insult; it is so common that a lady your age and rank could charge quite a premium for her favours. But of course, you would not dream of such a thing."
"Of course," Eleanor echoed. "And - and I do not know any men, either, who would - who I could - "
"How should a cherished young lady like you know such men?" Madame agreed. "Of course, I know such men as they call on ladies who hire my sitting room. On occasion I have made... recommendations."
Eleanor worried at the ribbon of her bonnet, breath coming fast. She could see herself in the glass, the hopelessly shabby bonnet, the worried face, and she hated her husband for bringing her to such a state. It would serve him right to wear a cuckold's horns! No more than he deserved!
"Perhaps," she said, in a tiny voice. "Perhaps I was too hasty."