It seemed Eliza was a chip off the old block. Sex added a spicy zest to her life, and there was nothing she liked more than dispensing her advice with considerable aplomb. She could have easily married but for one serious impediment, her dominant personality. Now, if a man could be seen to allow her her liberty, marriage could work very well. But, in Eliza’s view, marriage and liberty made sorry partners. As soon as a man caught you, you were harnessed and – she repressed a smile – she’d much rather be harnessing him. Besides, what man would understand her attitude to sex, which she saw as a mode of free expression and a cure for all things? Yes, she was sure it was a cure, because she suffered few of the problems which assailed her peers. She was agile and content in body and spirit and rarely visited a doctor. Having overcome the numerous taboos of the society she lived in, she enjoyed admiring her naked body and attentively caring for it in truly scandalous ways by shaving away every loose hair, keeping it alabaster white and smooth and fragranced with exotic and daring scents. Not forgetting enjoyment, a daily occurrence as necessary as a pot of tea. Eliza had taught herself every trick in the book as regards self-pleasure; using her fingers and thumbs, scarves and ropes, to excite herself.

Eliza was unprepared for Katia, who drew up at the house in a luxurious carriage drawn by two splendid horses. You could instantly tell she was a woman of substance. Her black gown was chic and exquisitely styled and she wore a splendid plumed hat and fabulous Russian enamelled jewellery. She was astounding, too, with her creamy white complexion and luscious dark eyes. Eliza liked her immediately.

‘It’s so kind of you to see me. It was a godsend when Martha mentioned your considerable gifts. She told me you were unique and there wasn’t another woman in London able to offer such expert advice. I’ll get straight to the point.’ Katia sat down, fluffing out her skirts. ‘My nephew Emile requires your help.’

At this instant Alice, Eliza’s maid came in with a pot of tea and it took a moment or two for Katia to compose herself.

‘Emile has – how can I describe them? – delicate problems as regards women. I cannot for the life of me make sense of them, except to say he’s a troubled young man who, at his age, should be more than au fait with the fair sex.’

‘How old is your nephew?’ Eliza queried, expecting the boy in question to be very young.

‘Therein lies the problem. He’s far from a boy. Actually, he’s 24.’

‘Most certainly not a boy,’ Eliza breathed in surprise, putting her cup down with a rattle.

‘Emile needs to be out in society and he needs to procure a wife, but how can he? My plan is this. I’ll send him to you under the guise of tutoring in etiquette. Once under your thumb you might then be able to get to the crux of his problems and, with your skills, solve them.’

‘Madam Tsarev.’ Eliza laughed. ‘I don’t wish to disappoint you, but I’ve never instructed a man.’

‘Of that I’m aware.’ Katia wagged her finger. ‘You instruct women and educate them in delicate matters, ironing out their foibles regarding subjects of a carnal nature and instructing them in correct and pleasurable sex. But why not a man, since it’s said you have the utmost affinity with the male sex? Gentlemen adore you and find you amenable company. Emile would adore you too and in so doing he’d open up and discuss with you his odd whimsies.’

‘I wouldn’t know where to start, and then I’d have to have a chaperone. I’m a single woman and it would be unseemly for me to entertain a young man alone in my home. I simply cannot afford the scandal,’ Eliza insisted vehemently.

‘Oh my darling!’ Katia burst out laughing. ‘Is that all? What’s seemly doesn’t come into it. You have the highest regard of all around you, and naturally I’d spread the word that you were tutoring Emile.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘My mind’s made up. I’m exceedingly choosy whose care I put him in and my heart’s set on you. You’re perfect for the job of bringing Emile out and moulding him for society. Be his saviour, Eliza, and I’ll be eternally grateful to you.’