A Counterfeit Courtesan

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A Counterfeit Courtesan Page 9

by Jess Michaels


  “Rook had gone looking for me,” Ellis said.

  She nodded. “Yes, but we didn’t know that. We came into Harcourt’s study and there was…” Her voice shook and she cleared her throat. “Winston Leonard was there. He was looking for the treasure you and Solomon had stolen. He mistook me for Anne because I was dressed more extravagantly. Because she was dressed simply, he thought her to be Thomasina.”

  “The confusion of being triplets,” Ellis said, hoping the interruption would help her. “I would always know you, Juliana.”

  She shook her head. “Well, I’m scarred now. It’s a bit of a cheat.”

  “I’d know you with your back turned,” he whispered, and it wasn’t a lie.

  She blushed, but then gathered herself. “Anne tried to tell him the truth of our identities, but he didn’t believe her. He was determined to take me, thinking it was her, and exact his revenge. When he threatened to kill who he thought was Thomasina, as revenge on Harcourt, I told him Anne was actually…that she was me. After all, Juliana Shelley would be too unimportant to anyone to kill. He agreed, and that worked in our favor.”

  He jerked his gaze to her at that statement. Was that how she saw herself? As unimportant? How that cut him, even though it shouldn’t have. He hardly knew her, after all, stolen moments at the masquerade aside.

  She shivered. “He didn’t kill her so she could deliver his message to Harcourt and Rook, and he took me.”

  He pressed his lips together, trying not to think of the part of this story he knew. About him and Rook arriving at Harcourt’s estate to hear that Juliana had been taken. At the stricken looks of her sisters. Of the terror all had felt that she would be killed. At the awful moment when Leonard had slashed her face and she’d looked toward Ellis for help. When he’d held her trembling body and felt the stirrings of something he had no right to feel.

  “What did he do?” he asked, forcing himself to consider her needs in that moment, not analyze his own.

  Her gaze went unfocused, and for a moment, he saw her relive those terrible moments. She swallowed hard again. “He put me on his horse. He was rough and cruel, he didn’t care if he hurt me. He seemed to like hurting me.”

  Ellis squeezed his eyes shut. The harshness didn’t surprise him, but still put red rage in his vision.

  “While we rode to the hill where we were to meet Rook, he talked.” She shook her head and her voice dropped to a whisper. “All he did was talk. He talked about being double crossed by you and Solomon Kincaid. He talked about killing Solomon and how much he enjoyed it. He talked about my sisters and how foolish we were to involve ourselves with such men. And because he thought I was Anne, he talked at great length about how he would kill me in front of Rook to watch him suffer. Or kill him in front of me for the same reason.”

  She recited the words, quietly and calmly. But the moment they were said, she bent her head, placed it in her hands and shook with silent sobs. The kind of crying that had been held in for a very long time and now couldn’t be contained.

  He couldn’t let her weep without comforting her. It wasn’t his place and it didn’t matter. He slipped to her side of the carriage and cradled her into his body, holding her as she cried it all out, wishing with all his might that he could take that past away.

  Knowing he couldn’t. All he could do was make sure those terrible moments weren’t repeated in her future. By destroying Winston Leonard before they could be. And by resisting her so she wouldn’t encounter even more danger by linking herself, even briefly, with a man like Handsome Ellis Maitland.

  He pressed a kiss to her temple as her tears slowed and then subsided. She sucked in a long breath. “He tied me up when we arrived and we waited. It felt like a lifetime. He kept going on and on like he had on the ride, but I just kept thinking of the sea. I kept picturing the waves rolling in and out. I refused to listen to him. Refused to hear his cruel pleasure in what he was doing. It kept me calm until…until the end. When he called you and Harcourt from the brush and the struggle began…I knew I would die.”

  He caught his breath. “Juliana.”

  She shrugged. “Who would protect me? Harcourt was for Thomasina. And Rook would die for Anne. But I had no one. And then you were there, and you put yourself in harm’s way for me.”

  “Some good it did,” he whispered, letting himself trace her scar for the first time with his fingertip. She caught her breath at the touch, and perhaps also at how close they were in the dim carriage.

  “He would have killed me and I’m alive,” she said, shivering as he dropped his hand away. “You helped me.”

  “I should have done more,” he said. “You never should have been hurt in the first place.”

  A tiny smile tilted her lips. Ellis was shocked to see it there, but in that moment this woman, this sheltered, upper-class woman, almost seemed like she knew more than he did about the world.

  “Should, should, should…” she mused. “If we could have a farthing for every should, you wouldn’t have to play your games anymore. You’d be the richest man in London.”

  “I like playing my games,” he said in what he hoped was a teasing tone. Right now he couldn’t quite control it.

  She shrugged. “I suppose my point is that I can’t live in what should have happened. I have to live in what did. And you did help me, Ellis. When you had me in your arms, right after I was slashed, do you remember what you said?”

  He stared down at her. And he lied, because he knew if he told her he did remember that it would only create more confusion and pain for her in the future. “No.”

  There was a flutter to her lips. “Well, you said something to me that comforted me. It might not have meant much to you, but it meant the world to me. So I thank you.”

  Ellis shook his head in shock. This woman had every right to blame him for what had happened to her. He knew a part of her did blame him. And yet she had enough grace to be able to see some good thing in him. Enough that she trusted him with her story, trusted him with the offer of her body.

  He had never been that good a person or man. He’d learned early and hard to take a person at face value. To never look for deeper goodness once he had seen a hint of danger. It was part of survival.

  And yet when he sat next to Juliana Shelley, stroking her hand in his, he felt shame for that dismissal. He felt small in it. He felt like he wanted to be…more.

  He’d been a villain since he was ten. Running the streets, stealing what he needed, playing love games starting at fifteen. He’d told himself he could never be more.

  And in this moment he wished he could. That there was change in his future like there had been in Rook’s. That he could somehow endeavor to one day deserve a woman who looked at him like Juliana was looking at him in this moment.

  Except doing that would destroy her. Dragging through the mud with him, linking herself any deeper than she already had? She would sink in it, sink with him.

  So if he wanted to be good, to be decent, he realized he had to be bad. He had to push her away to protect her. Not weakly like he had before, but truly. Before Winston Leonard got her back in his sights.

  Before Handsome Ellis Maitland ate everything good and beautiful and decent in her and spit her out a shell of what she’d once been.

  Even if it broke his heart, that cold, black thing he’d once thought didn’t exist…he had to do it. Now.

  Ellis tugged his hand away from Juliana’s and eased himself back on the carriage seat across from her. She felt the change in him. The rig felt colder as he looked at her with a gaze that held…nothing. Not even a hint of anything at all.

  “Well, I’m pleased some meaningless platitude I recited was helpful,” he drawled. “As I said, I don’t recall what I said.”

  She flinched just as he had done the first time he’d said he didn’t recall his words. What had been so important to her meant nothing to him.

  “Here’s your father’s home,” he said, motioning toward the window, where the
townhouse was rising larger in the distance.

  “Thank you for the escort,” she said, watching as he examined his nails with a bored expression.

  “I suppose it’s the least I could do, considering the pretty little gift you gave to me tonight,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers. His tone was mocking.

  She gritted her teeth. “Will I see you again?” she asked. Hated herself for asking when he was obviously so driven to get rid of her.

  He arched a brow as they came to a stop on the drive. “This isn’t for you, Juliana. I am not for you.”

  He swallowed hard, as if saying those words was difficult, and for a moment she saw a glimpse of the man who had asked her about the day she’d been taken. The man who had pleasured her so sweetly. The man who teased and played and made her smile.

  “Ellis—” she whispered.

  He lifted a hand to silence her. “We both got what we wanted tonight. So go inside and forget me. Forget tonight.” The door opened, and he smiled. “I will.”

  She caught her breath as a servant offered her a hand to help her down. She narrowed her gaze at Ellis, but he held her stare firmly, his expression flat and bored and cold. She shook her head and exited the carriage with as much dignity as she could muster.

  The moment the door was closed, she heard him rap on the carriage wall and it drove on into the night. Away from her like nothing mattered. Was that real? Did he truly not give a damn? Was all his talking and smiling and offering comfort a game? The same one he’d played with dozens of women before her?

  She had no idea. And that stung more than anything else.

  She pushed her shoulders back and moved to the door. It opened and revealed her father’s butler, Maxwell. The man took her wrap with only a sniff of disapproval. She ignored it and trudged toward the stairs. It was very late, too late for the hot bath she longed for. But she could at least curl up in her bed and try to sleep away this long and confusing night.

  She was almost to the stairs at the opposite end of the foyer when she heard the sound of a clearing throat from the closest parlor. She froze and turned to find her father standing there, a drink in hand, staring at her.

  “Father,” she began, trying to think of some excuse for why she was coming into the house alone at such a late hour. She could think of none, so she simply sighed. “I thought you were spending a late evening with some of your associates at the club.”

  “I can see you did,” he said with a shake of his head. “What have you been up to, girlie?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Her entire life had been spent placating this man, soothing his upsets and angers, protecting her sisters from his wrath when it was incurred. Making things easier for them all. Tonight she could not find the energy for those machinations.

  “I find I am not in the mood to talk, Father,” she said. “Please just let me go to bed and we can discuss it in the morning.”

  His grip on his drink tightened and his scowl deepened. “Come into the parlor, Anne.”

  She glared at him. “Juliana,” she corrected. “You would think you’d know me since I am the only daughter left under your care.”

  “I simply mixed up your names,” her father said with a wave of his free hand. “Come into the parlor…now.”

  She clenched her fists at her sides and marched past him into the room. Her heart was throbbing in anticipation for the showdown she feared would come, but she fought to keep that reaction from her face. She had to be more like Ellis. Not show weakness.

  Not show anything. Did he feel anything at all?

  “Juliana!”

  Her father’s sharp tone yanked her back to the room and she frowned at him. “Yes?”

  “I asked you a question. Where were you?”

  She shrugged. “I went out to see a…a friend in need.”

  The words seemed foolish as she said them, and it was clear her father didn’t believe her as he slowly shook his head. He downed the remainder of his drink in one swig before he said, “I don’t know what is wrong with you, Juliana. I can only imagine what trouble you were getting yourself in to. But you must not get ideas in your head. Your future is…” He trailed off and the heat seemed to go out of him as he turned away.

  Her lips parted. Was that pity in his expression? Her heart ached. “What is my future, Father? Say it.”

  He poured himself another drink before he faced her again. “It is set now. We both know that. But you needn’t fear. You will be a great help to me and that will provide meaning to your life. You’ll always have a place here, as long as you behave in a way that allows me to offer it.”

  Her breath caught and her throat felt like it was closing as she stared at him. He’d talked about her being his secretary several times since the attack on her. Mused that he hadn’t lost much because she was so good at managing his household. He was always hushed by her sisters when he brought it up.

  Now they were alone and she saw the full truth of it. He wanted what he wanted, saw the situation in only his own terms, but that was nothing new. Their father had always been desperately selfish.

  What was different is that he now saw her as pitiable. This was a bone he threw to what he perceived to be an injured dog. The best she could expect given the scandals her sisters had created, given the mark on her face and her character. She was broken in his eyes and he was trying to find some altered use for her.

  “Father—” she gasped out.

  “Do not reach too high, daughter,” he grunted. “Or there will only be further to fall.”

  Anger she rarely allowed herself rose up in her chest as she gaped at this man. How many times had she considered his comfort above her own?

  “Like you have, you mean,” she snapped out, and then clapped a hand over her mouth. She had never spoken to him in that fashion, and for a moment they just stared at each other.

  Then his face twisted in rage, going purple as he set his drink down with a loud clink. “One of my daughters married an earl,” he growled. “I choose to focus on that success rather than my useless second son-in-law.”

  “Who Anne loves,” Juliana argued, and she realized she was nearly shouting now. “And is as kind a man as any I have ever met.”

  “Perhaps,” her father said with a dismissive shrug. “Perhaps his underground links will play out as useful to me at some point. But I can’t focus on him or on your failings.”

  “Because I shall never marry. No one could want me now, at least in your eyes.”

  “No one of value. Do you disagree?” he scoffed. “It is a shame, really. You were my true prize. I thought I would leverage you for much more than either of your sisters. But what is done is done. I have decided it is best to remain kind to you.”

  “This is what you see as kindness?”

  “Careful now. It is not something every woman in your position would receive from her family. But do not mistake me, Juliana.” He stepped closer, and she found herself retreating an equal distance. “I expect you to behave yourself. You shall not bring any more shame on this house than you and your sisters already have. If you do, there will be consequences.”

  She swallowed and all she could taste was bitterness. Her own. His.

  “My entire life is nothing but consequences,” she spat. Then she turned on her heel. “Good night.”

  He let her go without responding and she marched up the stairs with her hands shaking. When she reached her room, she flopped herself on the bed, pressed her face into her pillow and let out a scream she felt like she had been holding in forever. Once she had made herself hoarse, she rolled over and stared up at the ceiling.

  She didn’t want this life. And yet it was the only choice left. Either her father was right and no one else would want her, or he would create that very future by refusing to take her out on the marriage mart anymore. Whatever hopes she’d once had for a life of her own choosing, a life with love in it, were fading. It didn’t matter how she got to that spinsterhood future, all paths now seemed
to lead there.

  Except for one. And that was the one she’d been trying to guide herself down with Ellis. Only he had rejected her too.

  She pushed to her feet and paced her chamber. Her thoughts kept returning to Ellis. His face as he pleasured her, that same face as he all but pushed her from the carriage and told her she wasn’t wanted. But mostly she thought of his expression when he saw Winston Leonard in the crowd at the Donville Masquerade.

  That expression was a cacophony of pain and regret. She might not know what else was real when it came to Ellis Maitland, but that moment had been. And she knew that because she had felt the same combination of emotions. So many times in her life.

  They were the same in some ways. No matter what he said to try to make her go away.

  She folded her arms and looked at herself in the mirror. Yes, she had a scar. Yes, it drew the eye. And yes, she was changed from the terrible actions that had brought that scar about. She was stronger now. She was more aware of what she wanted.

  And she was just stubborn enough not to give up on it.

  “We can help each other, even if he resists that out of fear,” she said, forcing herself to speak it out loud so that she could hear it. Her voice shook, but it still strengthened her resolve. “I have spent my life fixing things and I will fix this. For me. For him. For everyone.”

  Now she just had to figure out how.

  Chapter 10

  “He bloody saw me, Rivers,” Ellis shouted as he paced Marcus’s office the next night. “He looked me in the eye and every fucking thing I had planned was dashed in a goddamn second.”

  Marcus had been listening to him rail for at least a quarter of an hour, leaned back in his office chair, arms folded. Silent, of course. He offered no advice. Ellis wasn’t certain if he should be pleased or upset at that fact.

  “Why didn’t you follow him?” Marcus asked at last, but his tone was so flat that it was clear he already had a theory about why.

 

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