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A Counterfeit Courtesan

Page 10

by Jess Michaels


  It was probably on the mark.

  “Because of the woman. Are you happy now?” Ellis ran a hand through his hair and sank down in the chair across from Marcus’s.

  Rivers shrugged. “I have no opinion on the matter.”

  “You have an opinion on every matter,” Ellis grumbled.

  Rivers let out a laugh. “That may be true. Very well, I have no opinion to share on the matter. I think in situations such as this, it’s best to allow you to find your own way. I will say I don’t think I’ve ever seen you choose a mark over your own plans.”

  Ellis jerked his face toward his friend. “She isn’t a mark.”

  Rivers’ eyebrows lifted. “Ah, I see. Well, a lover then.”

  “She isn’t exactly that either.” Ellis bent his head. “Almost, and not without a lack of trying on her end. I didn’t follow Leonard because it would have put her in danger. And I’ve already done that more than enough.”

  “You realize it might have been your only chance,” Marcus said softly. “Since he saw you.”

  “Yes,” Ellis acknowledged, and got to his feet. He walked to the windows overlooking the main hall below and stared with unseeing eyes at the writhing crowd. “It may have been. But at least I have more focus now. I recognized my failing the moment it happened. I have ended things with the young lady in no uncertain terms. She won’t be a distraction again, and I can refocus my efforts. Leonard may not come back here, but he’s somewhere in London. I’ll find him. And when I do, I won’t have to worry about anyone but myself.”

  “Hmm. You’re certain that’s all then. You ended things and she won’t pursue you again?”

  Ellis glanced over his shoulder and found Marcus had also stood and was looking over the crowd. “Yes, why?”

  “Because she just came into the room,” Rivers said, and pointed.

  Ellis followed his motion. There was Juliana, standing by the entryway to the great hall, hands clenched before her, cheap mask balanced on her exquisite face. She was looking around the room, just as she always did when she came here.

  He ground his teeth in frustration. “She is, by far, the most stubborn wench I have ever had the pleasure of…”

  He trailed off, for he’d had quite a few pleasures with her. Even now, aggravated as hell by her, he also couldn’t stop looking at her. Wanting to touch her, wanting to claim her.

  “…the pleasure of knowing,” he finished with a shake of his head.

  “Then your perfect match, it seems,” Marcus said, laughter thick in his voice. “Stubborn and stubborn.”

  “She’s not my perfect match,” Ellis said, sharper than he intended. “She’s a damned menace. You need to ban her.”

  Rivers leaned back. “Ban her? That’s a very serious action to take. For what reason?”

  Ellis rolled his eyes. Damned Marcus would make him spell out every single thing he didn’t want to consider or feel. “As a personal favor to me. And to her, though she might argue that. No, she would argue that because she is, as aforementioned, stubborn.”

  Marcus pressed his lips together. “Hmmm. Another personal favor. Is that three now?”

  “Too many to count,” Ellis said softly. “But I’m still asking.”

  “For her protection,” Rivers clarified.

  “Yes.”

  Rivers stroked his chin as if thinking. “Even though she keeps coming back. Looking for you.”

  Ellis flinched. “Will you do it or not?”

  “I will if it means that much,” Rivers said. “But I will ask a question before I have it done.” Ellis shrugged to get him to continue. Rivers met his gaze evenly. “Do you really want to walk away from this woman?”

  Ellis shut his eyes. He could see Juliana perfectly, green gaze turned toward him, full lips slightly parted. He could see her arched back in pleasure. He could see her vulnerable with confession. He could see her shaking as he kissed her. He could smell her, he could taste her.

  And all that amounted to nothing but trouble for them both.

  “No,” he admitted softly as he looked at his friend. Rivers looked surprised at that answer but didn’t interrupt. “But my entire life has been about what I want, what I need. Now I must do what’s right for everyone else. Even if it hurts them.”

  “I see,” Rivers said.

  Ellis forced a half-smile, trying to find that Handsome persona that had always been his shield. “I know it’s not natural,” he said with a humorless laugh.

  Rivers didn’t respond but walked to the door. He rang a bell, and soon his right-hand man, Paul Abbot, appeared at the door. The two spoke quietly in the entryway for a moment, heads close together. Ellis turned away from them and looked down over the crowd.

  Juliana had come farther into the room, gliding through those around her, pausing to look at the powerful pleasures being shared. He marked what she stopped to see, learning what aroused her, even if he knew he’d never use that knowledge. He couldn’t. He had to keep reminding himself of that truth.

  “It will be done,” Rivers said as he shut the door.

  Ellis’s shoulders rolled forward, though he couldn’t have said if relief or defeat was more prevalent in his mind and body. He was doing the right thing. He was protecting Juliana because she was too upset and broken to protect herself.

  But it didn’t feel very good to crush the one dream she had. To take away the need that drove her and kept the nightmares from catching up to her.

  He turned away from her at the window and glared at Rivers. “Thank you. Now I need to go. I have quarry to hunt and I—” He broke off. “I just need to go.”

  Rivers didn’t say anything, just stepped aside to clear a path for him to leave. As he passed by, his friend murmured, “Don’t throw away everything, friend. Please don’t.”

  Ellis ignored him, pretended he didn’t hear as he moved down the stairs and around to the back exit where Juliana wouldn’t catch sight of him. No matter what Marcus thought, no matter what he wanted, he had nothing left to throw away.

  Only his life. And that wasn’t worth anything anyway, except to trade for the safety of those he cared about.

  Juliana’s gaze darted around the main hall of the Donville Masquerade, taking in the overwhelming sight of everything around her. There were the lovers, of course. Impossible to ignore because they were here to play out every fantasy for the world to see. She shivered as she hesitated to watch two men grinding against a woman, their bodies all writhing together.

  But as she broke away from staring at what made her tingle, she also sought out other things. Winston Leonard, for one. She needed to know if he had returned to Donville, not just for her own protection, but to alert Ellis when she found him.

  Because, oh yes, she had every intention of finding him. He would argue and try to tell her that he didn’t want her, but she didn’t believe him. He had pleasured her and taken none of his own. If he were truly using her, he could have ruined her and never thought of her again.

  Instead, he’d taken care of her, soothed her, listened to her tale and her fear. Those weren’t the actions of a man who didn’t give a damn. So she refused to let him pretend he didn’t.

  She turned sideways, edging between a tightly packed group of patrons gawking at a woman dancing on an elevated stage in the back of the room. Just as she managed to pass through and turned to walk normally again, a tall gentleman with extremely straight posture stepped into her path.

  “Good evening, miss,” he said, all formality, almost like a military man.

  She didn’t know the man but felt immediately comfortable with him. “Yes?”

  “I’m Paul Abbot. I manage the daily activities of the club. Will you step away with me a moment? I need to speak to you.” He motioned to a quieter corner where none of the commotion and scandalous activity was happening. It was well lit, though, and still felt safe.

  “Certainly,” she said, following as he took her aside. When they were away from the others, he turned and smiled
. Almost apologetically. Her heart thudded.

  “Miss, I am afraid I must ask you to leave the club,” he said, kindly but without room for argument.

  Her brow wrinkled. “I-I’m sorry, you want me to leave? I don’t understand.”

  He nodded. “I realize that. And I do apologize, but we have determined that you must be asked to leave tonight. And not return. I do not think you have a long-term membership.”

  She shook her head, still confused. “No, I have been paying my nightly entry fee each time I came here. Is it…is that not allowed? I will pay for a membership if that is required.”

  “It is not,” he said. “Ladies who wish to attend can pay a nightly rate, as you have been doing, or a membership fee. It isn’t the money that is the issue, I’m afraid. It has simply been determined that you are not a good fit for the club.”

  She couldn’t help but lift her hand to where her scar was hidden beneath her mask. She felt the heat of embarrassment fill her cheeks as she stared at the gentleman before her. He was so kind about all of this, but that didn’t make her feel any better about it.

  “Why?” she asked. “Do I not deserve an answer as to why?”

  He drew a breath, and his gaze darted toward the stairs at the back of the hall. The ones that led up to the office where Marcus Rivers, the notorious owner of the club, kept his watch. Everyone whispered about the man. He was more legend than human.

  She shifted. How would a man like that know anything about her? Why would he care enough to ban her? Unless he had been told something about her by…

  She jerked her face back toward Mr. Abbot. “Mr. Rivers is a friend to Mr. Maitland,” she said, recalling when Ellis had told her the same.

  Abbot’s expression didn’t change. “I do not speak about the patrons here, miss. You understand.”

  “That bastard,” she grumbled, clenching her hands at her sides. “How dare he. How dare he!”

  “Miss, making a scene will not change anything,” Abbot said, still kindly, but more firmly. “Let me escort you to your vehicle. I will return tonight’s entrance fee to you with our apologies and have you on your way.”

  “I want to talk to Marcus Rivers,” she said, folding her arms and widening her stance a little.

  He leaned back, and for a moment Abbot looked almost impressed. Then he gave a small smile. “I’m afraid that is not possible.”

  “You seem the kind of man who can make anything possible,” she retorted, glad that her shaking hands weren’t so obvious when they were tucked away. “I assume your job is to do exactly that. I want to speak to him now.”

  Abbot took a deep breath to argue, but before he could, another deep, rough voice interrupted from behind her. “I will discuss the matter with the lady if she wishes. Thank you, Abbot.”

  She pivoted and found herself staring at a very tall, very intimidating, very handsome man. He had a calm, unreadable expression and the darkest green eyes she’d ever seen. She swallowed, intimidated by his size and his presence.

  “M-Mr. Rivers?” she stammered.

  He inclined his head. “At your service.” He leaned closer. “It would be best if we have this conversation in my office, don’t you think? My appearance in the hall tends to attract attention, and I think you might not want that.”

  She glanced around and found every nearby head had indeed pivoted to watch the club owner as he spoke to her. She swallowed, praying she would not be recognized despite her mask, and nodded. “Yes. Lead the way, sir.”

  He did so, guiding her through the crowd, which parted almost magically for him. They moved up a small staircase in the back of the hall, and he motioned her into a tidy, organized office at the top of the stairs. She moved to the bank of windows that overlooked the debauchery below and shook her head. “You watch over your domain very carefully, Mr. Rivers.”

  He didn’t speak until he shut the door. “I must, Miss Shelley.”

  She gasped as she turned to face him. “You—you know who I am?”

  He smiled, albeit faintly. “It’s my business to know everything. I’m very good at my business.”

  She glanced at the door and then back to him. “I assume you must be. But I will tell you that I have…I have no desire to—to—to—”

  His eyes widened a fraction and then he shook his head. “I’m not interested in seducing you. Lovely as you are, I don’t pursue my pleasure in these walls. And our mutual friend wouldn’t be happy with me if I tried.” He chuckled. “He might kill me for it.”

  She drew in a long breath. “Our mutual friend. I think you mean Ellis Maitland.” Rivers inclined his head slightly. She glared in response. “He isn’t my friend. He’s made that very clear. Doubly so considering I think he is the reason you are attempting to ban me from your club. Do you deny it?”

  Rivers folded his arms, and his look was stern but for the slight twitch of his lips as he watched her. “I do not confirm or deny anything, my dear. It’s better that way.”

  She fisted her hands at her sides and huffed out a breath as she paced away from the distracting view at the window and crossed his office. She stood staring into the fire for a moment and then glanced at him again. “How do you know him?”

  Rivers was silent for what felt like a very long time. Then he shifted slightly. “I’ve known him almost all my life. We were on the street together.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, surprised by his candor. Then she tried to picture what that would be like. She had been so very sheltered all her life, she knew that. A life like Ellis’s felt so strange when she tried to imagine it. “So, you really are friends.”

  “Yes. We’re friends.” Rivers sat at his desk. From any other man, it would have been rude to sit before she did. But when he did it, it felt like a kindness. He was less intimidating when he was seated. Though his focused gaze still watched her. “He doesn’t think this is the place for you.”

  She shook her head. “There are ladies aplenty here. Some from my sphere, even.”

  “Indeed, there are,” he said. “But you are an innocent.”

  Her cheeks flamed and she took the seat across from him with a thud. “He told you that.”

  “No.” Rivers leaned back. “I can just see it. Innocents…” He looked off past her, and for a moment he looked very pensive and far away. “He isn’t wrong that you don’t belong in these walls.”

  “So he gets to choose what I do?” she asked. “You think he has that right?”

  “Not at all,” Rivers said. “But it’s more complicated than he merely wants to spoil your fun, isn’t it? I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you. When he talks about the stakes.”

  Her anger dissipated a fraction at that observation, so quietly given and so powerfully felt. “Perhaps it is more complicated,” she admitted. “What do you think of that?”

  “I can’t tell yet,” he replied. “I don’t have enough information. I do know him. But you…you are an interesting one. What is it you want from him?” She felt the heat burn into her cheeks and folded her arms. Rivers smiled, and this time there was less hesitation in it. “Besides that.”

  She bent her head. “I want to…to help him. I want us to help each other.”

  “Hmmm.” He seemed to consider that a moment, and then he nodded. “Perhaps that is something he needs, after all. Especially now. You know he has a place here in Town, do you not?”

  “He does?” she asked, and then felt foolish. Of course Ellis had a place to stay here. She’d viewed him as transient when she pictured him anywhere but in a bed beckoning to her or out on the street playing some kind of swashbuckling criminal.

  Rivers stifled another smile as he withdrew a small sheet of vellum from the top drawer of his desk, wetted a quill and scratched something out on the paper. He blew on it, waving it to dry the ink. As he did so, he said, “You can’t stay here.”

  She pushed to her feet, opening her mouth to argue.

  He waved the paper at her to silence her instead. “I pr
omised him. And even if I hadn’t, I tend to agree that this place is not…not for you. But if you want to encounter him, there are safer places to do it. Later, perhaps. A day or two. When you have both had some time to let cooler heads prevail.”

  He held out the paper and she stared at it, knowing it would provide a much more intimate connection to Ellis Maitland. “You would do that?”

  He nodded and pushed the paper even closer. She took it without looking at the address and folded it.

  “Be careful, Miss Shelley,” he said, his gaze suddenly more intense. “Not necessarily of him. He’s no monster, no matter what he tells himself in the dark. But this world…” He shook his head. “It is far more dangerous than perhaps you understand.”

  “And I have seen more danger than you know,” she retorted.

  He looked at her through eyes that had seen a thousand pains and threats. He shrugged. “Perhaps you have at that. Now let me arrange for your carriage to be brought around and escort you to the safety of it.”

  She nodded, and he left to make the preparations. She sat back down in the chair and closed her eyes. Whatever happened next, she was diving far deeper into this world. And no matter what she said to Ellis or Rivers about it, it was a place she knew she didn’t belong.

  But there was no going back now.

  Chapter 11

  Ellis sat on his mount, peering through the spyglass at the fine home across the park. His stomach churned at the false veneer of decency and value there. One that had given power to a man who lived to damage everyone around him.

  “So he has not returned to his townhouse for three days?” Ellis asked.

  The man on the horse next to him glanced at him like he had gone daft. Golden Mitchell was one of Ellis’s network and had been for years. He’d left the Royal Navy injured and been all but abandoned by King and Country. He’d gone underground with Ellis and was the best man to gather information.

  Well, second best. Rook had always been the best.

  Ellis flinched at the sense of loss that internal caveat caused and glared at his partner. “I asked a question, Golden.”

 

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