Tempting the Bluestocking: A Gentleman Courtesans Novella

by Victoria Vale

  “What else?” he prodded, turning the conversation onto a safer path. “We have watches and geological minerals. What else have you got stashed in that room?”

  “Porcelain figurines—Dresden and Sevres specifically. More porcelain from the Orient, tea services and vases and such. Oh, and this doesn’t qualify as a collection, but there is a small conservatory built off the back of the house. It takes up most of the courtyard in place of a garden—another one of Aunt Helene’s extravagant birthday gifts.”

  Edward propped himself up on his elbow and gazed down at her, his interest piqued by the mention of her birthday. “You alluded to your aunt’s birthday gifts before. I assume she always makes such a big production of celebrating it.”

  Clare snorted. “Always. When Alice and I were girls, she began the tradition of treating our birthdays as some sort of grand holiday. Looking back, I do believe she was doing her best to ensure we did not miss our parents so much on those days. Such times were difficult in the beginning—birthdays, Christmas, New Year’s Eve. Even though it was hardly necessary as we grew older, she persisted. Each year she tries to outdo herself.”

  “And what of this year?” he teased, gently tugging a lock of her dark hair. “Has this year’s gift outshone that of your last birthday?”

  With a giggle, she turned to face him, snaking a hand around his waist and molding her soft body against his. The arousal he’d been trying to ignore for the past hour became even more urgent.

  “Most certainly,” she murmured, winding her hips in a wicked motion that had him pressing even closer. “After all, that hot air balloon ascension lasted a mere hour.”

  “Never let it be said that I cannot outlast a hot air balloon,” he murmured against her mouth just before engaging her in a kiss.

  She opened to him readily now, hooking one leg over his hip and arching against him in invitation. He palmed her arse and ground against her, enjoying her soft whimpers against his lips at the brush of his cock against her tender, wet inner flesh.

  He entered her with ease, groaning into her mouth at the tight, hot clench of her cunny around him. After their first frenzied encounter, he was content to take his time now, gliding in and out of her with slow, languid strokes. He drew it out for as long as he could, eventually rolling her onto her back, then arranging her on her hands and knees, ensuring she knew without question that there was so much more to making love than her first bedmate had shown her. He held back his own climax for as long as he could, bringing her to completion three times and ensuring he put in a more spectacular performance than a bloody hot air balloon. Pulling away from her at the last possible second, he spilled on the sheets, then gathered her into his arms again as she began drifting off to sleep.

  As he lay there sinking into slumber himself, it occurred to Edward that if he weren’t careful, he might find himself in a precarious situation. After all, what man could hold a living, breathing flame in his arms and not become consumed? If he allowed it, he could become obsessed with a woman like Clare Cecelia Dunnaby.

  * * *

  “May I ask you a rather personal question?” Clare asked hours later from across the dining room table.

  After they’d awakened, his growling stomach had sent her into a fit of giggles, then prompted her to invite him to stay and dine with her. Since he knew his sister had plans with a friend and her chaperone for the evening, he had no pressing reason to return home. He also had no desire to dine alone, so he had taken her up on her offer.

  Retrieving his discarded clothing, he’d put himself together as well as he could manage while she had retreated to her dressing room. Before long they were ensconced in the dining room with several dishes spread out between them and lit tapers casting a warm glow over the intimate settling. She had banished the servants so they could be alone, and they’d been serving themselves from the various offerings filling the table.

  They had eaten in companionable silence until now, when Clare’s question had broken through the quiet.

  “Of course you can,” he replied.

  After all the things she’d revealed about her family and her first unremarkable experience with intercourse, he certainly didn’t feel as if he had the right to hold back. Besides, they were as well acquainted physically as two people could be at this point. What could it hurt to let her know something about him other than the feel of his hands, mouth, and cock?

  Pausing with a cluster of peas in her spoon, she glanced up at him, seeming prepared to mince words for the first time since he’d met her. Which could mean only one thing.

  “You want to know how I became a courtesan,” he stated, taking the burden of finding the right words off her shoulders.

  She flushed pink, but gave a swift nod. “I’m simply curious. I never knew male courtesans existed, so I find myself wanting to know how a man comes into such a profession.”

  Slouching a bit in his chair, he reached for his wineglass. “I actually did not know male courtesans existed either, until very recently. I happen to be friends with a man who’s been at it for a year, and he told me it’s been quite lucrative for him. I decided it wouldn’t be such a hardship, bedding a beautiful woman for money.”

  For a moment, he wondered if she would find such a sentiment distasteful. Bedding a man who’d been bought with a bank draft was far different than discussing it over dinner.

  But, he ought to have expected her to simply peer at him through her spectacles with an inquisitive look and launch into her next question.

  “So…I am your first keeper then?”

  “You are.”

  She took a sip of her wine and then smiled at him. “Am I what you expected?”

  “No,” he replied. “You’re better than I expected, in more ways than one.”

  “I do take pleasure in surprising people,” she quipped.

  “Well, you achieved that the moment you burst out laughing after learning why I was naked in your bed. In all my twenty-seven years of life, I’ve never been more shocked.”

  She winced. “That was not well done of me. I hope you didn’t take it as an insult to you as a person, Edward. Truly, I was convinced Aunt Helene was having me on.”

  He waved away her concern. “That much was clear enough. Besides, I found your laugh to be as enchanting as the rest of you.”

  “I’ve been told it’s too loud, not ladylike enough,” she said with a derisive snort. “Alice was always warning me that it would scare prospective suitors away. Can you imagine such a thing? A room full of men, intimidated by a laugh of all things.”

  Edward could actually imagine it. He could see how everything about her might intimidate some men, and that laugh revealed more about her than she likely realized. It said that she cared nothing for the judgment of others, that she was as boisterous and free as that laughter, and that she could not be made to fit the mold of the other London chits. Most of all, it said that she would never be content to live under anyone’s rule, be it the dictates of society or a husband’s dominance.

  “I think it ridiculous to stifle something as natural as a laugh just to keep from drawing attention to oneself,” she continued, her knife and fork clinking against the plate. “So I laugh as loud and as often as I want.”

  “Well done,” he murmured, raising his glass to her before taking a sip.

  They lapsed into silent eating again, but that did not seem to suit Clare, for she soon came up with another question to volley at him.

  “The amount my aunt is paying for these thirty days. Will it be enough? I assume there’s a pressing need for it.”

  Thinking over the pile of unpaid bills overrunning the office of Norton & Rivers, he experienced a bitter taste in his mouth. “Honestly, I am not certain. You see, my father recently died and left the family business in my hands.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, perusing his austere black attire as if just noticing it for the first time.

  “It has been a difficult time for my family�
�or what’s left of it anyway. We lost my mother years ago, so I’ve been left with the care of my little sister as well as my younger brother, who has recently completed university.”

  Her brow furrowed with concern, she reached out to lay her hand atop his. “That’s a devil of a burden for one man to bear alone.”

  It was, and damn if he wasn’t already exhausted from holding it up. Between Caroline and her complaints over their diminished fortunes, and Jacob’s obliviousness to it all, he’d begun to feel as if he weren’t up to the task to taking over the family business as well. Even with his pockets filled for the time being, it all seemed so insurmountable.

  Edward found it easy to confide in her due to the comfort they’d seemed to fall into, so he shared his thoughts without reservation.

  “It might not be so bad if not for the fact that the business is failing. My father was a good man—a wonderful father, and a kind person—but he was abominable when it came to managing money. What I thought I knew about the state of the family finances turned out to be only a fraction of the truth. So, I am now the proud owner of a shipping company without warehouses to store goods in, ships that are incapable of carrying cargo, or a partner. There is also a mountain of debt, which has ruined the reputation of the line. In short, none of it could be mended without money—which I had very little of until your aunt hired me for you.”

  Clare did not respond at first, folding her hands atop the table and staring at him with a pensive expression. When she finally spoke, her voice held not a trace of humor or artifice.

  “I think what you’ve done is very admirable.”

  He blinked, momentarily taken aback by that praise. “It is?”

  This time, her smile was soft and small but no less genuine as she met and held his gaze. “Of course it is. You’ve been faced with a difficult situation, and rather than lament the cruelty of fate or allow everything to fall apart around you, you’ve found a way to turn things around. Quite an inventive way, and one that takes advantage of your talents.”

  He grinned. “By talents, do you mean seducing scholarly women with the use of scientific terms?”

  Her gaze grew heated, the brilliant irises darkening a shade. “Among other things.”

  Laying his fork beside his empty plate, he shrugged. “I suppose it is easy to think of what I’m doing as some sort of noble effort for the sake of my family when you have been my one and only keeper thus far.”

  She shook her head in disagreement. “If a hundred women had come before me, my opinion would remain unchanged. Though, I cannot say I might not suffer a bit of envy.”

  “Do not worry, CeCe. You’re the only woman I’ve ever seduced with talk of science.”

  Raising her glass, she beamed at him in a way that made him feel ten feet tall. “To making the best of things, even when they’re at their worst.”

  Lifting his glass, he clinked it against hers. “To being taken by surprise.”

  Chapter 7

  Clare sat across the small, rough wooden table from Edward, watching as he dug into the bowl before him with enthusiasm. A few days following their first night together, he had suggested they have their dinner at one of his favorite haunts. According to Edward, the intimate coffee house nestled in Covent Garden had the best Indian cuisine to be found in London. Downstairs, the men enjoyed their tea, coffee, or curries. Meanwhile, Edward had requested the use of a private room, sneaking her in through a back entrance to avoid Clare being noticed. He’d wanted her to enjoy the food without having to worry over the ruin that would be made of her reputation by setting foot in a male haunt.

  While traveling Europe with Aunt Helene, Clare had tasted a variety of new foods. But, she’d never sampled the robust, spicy fare laid out before them in various dishes and platters.

  “Try the curry,” Edward urged between bites. “I wager you’ve never tasted anything so good.”

  Glancing down at the heavily sauced chicken and mound of steaming rice before her, she lifted her spoon. Edward watched her with parted lips, as if anticipating her taking the first bite. She obliged him, scooping a portion of the chicken, the aromatic spices wafted up her nostrils. Her eyes widened at the abundance of flavors exploding across her tongue, accentuated by a burst of heat that she found both pleasant and tear-inducing. Blinking her watering eyes, she met Edward’s gaze.

  “Oh my,” she murmured, taking a spoonful of the rice, then reaching out for a disk of the flat bread resting between them. Edward had referred to it as naan.

  “Do you like it?” he asked with a smile.

  “Very much,” she murmured, following his lead and taking both the rice and the curry onto her spoon to combine them. “I must send for some to be delivered at home so Aunt Helene can try it.”

  “The two of you are sure to become as enamored with the food as I am. An old school friend of mine would invite me home with him between terms, and his cook was from Calcutta. I leaped at the chance to join him every chance I got, even though I knew I’d fall prey to the matchmaking schemes of his mother. She had three young daughters, two of whom were nearing marriageable age.”

  She giggled at the face he made, as if his curry had suddenly turned sour. “I take it that like most bachelors you’ve spent years avoiding the matrimonial noose.”

  He paused for a moment, fiddling with his spoon. “Perhaps not avoiding it in the way you might think. I’m not opposed to marriage, and if the right woman were to come along at the right time, I’d be happy to settle down and begin a family of my own.”

  She supposed that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. The more she came to learn about Edward, the clearer it was that family meant a great deal to him. Caring for his siblings was what had driven him to become her courtesan.

  Curiosity urged her to press further.

  “Has there ever been anyone…a woman you considered for marriage?”

  He tore his gaze from hers, staring down into his bowl. “I haven’t let myself consider it. Not now, when my life is in shambles. I have nothing to offer a wife and my family name is now synonymous with shoddy business practices.”

  The dejection in his voice pricked her somewhere deep within her chest. It wasn’t pity, exactly. It was more of a deep sorrow she felt knowing that his family’s financial woes had hindered him from opening himself to the possibility of love and marriage.

  “Any woman who can’t look past your family name or temporary circumstances isn’t worth marrying,” she declared, her voice grown heavy and thick with emotion.

  Edward wasn’t like her, she could see that clearly. She had closed herself off to the idea of a husband and children, had made up her mind that it simply wasn’t as important as she’d first believed. But his words had been revealing, and now she could all but see the need radiating from him in visible currents. The need to have something of his own that hadn’t been handed down by his father—something that wasn’t a failing business, or a mountain of debt, or two siblings who needed his care.

  Reaching across the table with his free hand, he intertwined his fingers with hers. “I am flattered you think so. But I cannot blame any woman for wanting a secure future. Once I am able to provide that, I suppose I can then turn my mind to marriage.”

  “Whoever your bride happens to be, she’ll be fortunate to have you.”

  The moment the words fell from her lips, Clare’s mind overwhelmed her with thoughts of Edward with another woman. Kissing her. Holding her. Making love to her without pulling away at the end with the hopes that it would result in a child. Clearing her throat, she pulled her hand from his grasp. It was ridiculous of her to feel a bit of jealousy over a nonexistent woman, especially when their association was based on nothing more than carnal desires and a bank draft.

  “What of you?” Edward asked.

  Pausing after a sip of tea, she frowned. “What about me?”

  “You made it clear that you had no interest in intimate relations. Does that indifference apply to marriage as wel
l?”

  “I’m not really indifferent,” she replied. “Merely resigned to the fact that what I want might not really exist.”

  She glanced up to find him watching her, his stare pensive and probing.

  “And what do you want?”

  Clare mulled that over for a moment before answering. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what she wanted—she’d always known. She simply did not know how to express it out loud in a way that wouldn’t make her sound completely insane. Still, she gave it a most valiant effort.

  “Well, I am not keen on the idea of being married just for the sake of it. It does not bother me one bit to be called a spinster or to be viewed as somehow less than my peers for failing to secure a match. If I ever marry—a prospect that becomes less likely with each passing year—it will be because I’ve met the man I simply cannot live without. It does not seem worth it to me otherwise. But, as I said…I am not certain such a phenomenon truly exists. Love seems like such an abstract notion to me. Elsewise, why would it be so elusive?”

  She looked away then, certain he would think she was mad. People married for all sorts of reasons that had nothing to do with love. Especially women, who must consider their futures as well as things such as status and money. Men needed heirs to carry on family legacies. Rarely did any of it involve love, and married couples seemed to get on just fine without it.

  However, she was surprised to glance up and find Edward’s gaze still locked on her, the intensity of it deepened as he brushed his fingers against hers in a feather-light gesture. Her breath caught and held as he did it again, tracing the tip of his finger along the edge of hers, sending shivers racing up her arm.