The Accidental Courtesan

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  There was a party this evening, and the ladies were out en masse, shopping for, well, whatever last-minute fripperies women shopped for. As he eased his horse around a slowmoving coach, a flash of color in an open carriage moving in the opposite direction caught his eye.

  He turned his head and saw a figure in blue, a matching blue hat settled low on her head, with only the curve of a petite jaw exposed to his view from beneath the beribboned and lacy confection.

  Gavin jerked upright, his senses fully engaged. Could it be her? There was something familiar about that tiny hint of her face that caused him to swing about in the saddle and stare after her as her driver skillfully avoided a man who had darted into the street.

  Blast! He had to get a closer look. He went up half a block before finding an opening between equipages wide enough to pass between them. By the time he’d gotten turned around, all he could see when he stood in the stirrups was the top of her hat over a row of carriages. He eased the horse onward, weaving in and out as quickly as was manageable. In the distance, her carriage turned left and took a quiet side street at a rapid clip. A blue feather waved on her hat.

  Teeth gnashing, he pressed on, only to discover, once he made the same turn, that her carriage was gone. He released a string of curses and slammed a gloved fist on his thigh.

  If this was his scandalous beauty, she’d escaped him again. Gavin tapped his heels and turned the horse in the direction of Charles’s town house, careful to stay clear of Bond Street. He’d planned to spend a quiet evening at home, nursing the lingering headache that refused to abate.

  There was little chance his mystery visitor would attend this evening’s party. However, if she was not the courtesan she’d indicated she was, he would miss an opportunity to discover her true identity.

  And have her in his bed by dawn tomorrow.

  His cock twitched at the thought of the lingering feel of her hand fondling him. She was a bold little thing. She’d responded passionately to his kisses and teased him with her caress. Yet, she’d also had an air of innocence, a hesitation that he hadn’t noticed at first. It took a clearer head to see she wasn’t quite the daring seductress she tried to portray.

  A wicked grin split his face. Whatever her motives, it didn’t really matter. By the time he finished with her, he’d know everything she was hiding.

  Noelle fidgeted while Martha carefully placed the last few pins in her upswept hair. Her eyes were red, and tension thinned her lips. An attempt to nap had failed. The seductive earl ruined her peace. Finally, she’d climbed from the bed with a curse and resigned herself to an evening stifling yawns.

  The man was married! Well and completely married! There would be no covert glances across a crowded room, no secret assignation in the garden, no gushing proposal on bent knee. Any attraction she’d felt for him and his perfect male torso had to be buried forever.

  “You must sit still, My Lady,” Martha scolded, jerking Noelle from her unwelcome thoughts. “Unless you want your hair to tumble down during a dance.”

  The middle-aged woman had been with Noelle’s family forever and wasn’t the least intimidated by her title. She always said her piece, and scolded when required. And Noelle adored her.

  “We wouldn’t want that to upset a potential suitor,” Noelle said absently, and plucked at the delicate lace on her cream-colored gown. The best thing that could happen to her this evening would be to meet a stunning unmarried gentleman with whom to laugh and flirt and forget the earl. Though Noelle had vowed never to wed, casual flirtation and stolen kisses in the darkness of the garden would be acceptable, if it meant pushing Lord Seabrook from her mind forever.

  Martha snorted. “It is shocking enough to have you wandering about town without a chaperone. You need to be taken into hand before you find yourself in a disgraceful situation.”

  Noelle met her gaze in the mirror. “I just turned twenty-five. I think I am past the age when I need to worry about appearances. A spinster has certain allowances.”

  The last pin went in and scraped her scalp. Noelle winced. The maid was clearly put out with her. She braced herself for a continuation of the lecture.

  “You are young and lovely, My Lady. Many men have asked to call, yet you refuse them all. There is no reason for you to remain unmarried and alone,” Martha snapped. She patted the coiffure and stepped back to admire her work. “It is your stubbornness that keeps you a virgin still.”

  Noelle stared. “Say what you think, and please do not hold your tongue, Martha.” Mischief welled to replace her annoyance with her outspoken maid. “How can you be certain I do not possess a string of lovers?”

  Martha scowled. “You are as innocent as the day your mother birthed you. I’d know immediately if a man had taken your innocence.” She shook her finger. “You cannot lie to me.”

  Noelle bit back a smile. Martha knew her very well. Still, she didn’t know everything. Some things were better kept a secret; like breaking into houses and kissing strangers. “If it smooths your feathers, my cousin Brenna and her brothers will be at the party. Simon will chase off any men who dare launch a dastardly assault on my virginity.”

  The maid muttered something under her breath about the wild Harringtons not being fit chaperones. This time Noelle did smile. She stood and pulled the older woman into a tight embrace.

  “Fear not, dear Martha. I shall return to you in the same condition in which I left. I have no plans this evening to lose my spinster’s title by accepting any proposals, proper or not. I shall laugh and flirt and find my way home before my coach turns into a pumpkin.”

  Though Martha’s plump arms hugged her tight, her lined face was etched in a scowl.

  “If I thought it would keep you from spinsterhood, I’d pray for a bold man to drag you into the bushes and force a marriage.” She cupped Noelle’s chin and peered deep into her eyes. “You should have more than an empty future without a family to love.”

  “You saw the unhappiness of my parents’ marriage and the misery it wrought.” Noelle flounced over to retrieve her shawl and settled it about her shoulders. “Margaret and Eva have husbands, and soon I will be an aunt. I shall be content to love their children.”

  A couple of tongue clucks followed, but Martha remained silent as Noelle wandered into the hall and headed for the stairs.

  An arranged marriage had made her father and mother miserable. Her sister Eva was the product of her father’s liaison with his courtesan. Still, she loved her sister dearly and wouldn’t change a single moment of history if it meant losing Eva.

  Noelle had vowed long ago that she’d not marry a man she didn’t love and who didn’t love her. She intended to keep that vow. She had family who adored her, and that was enough.

  Some women were not meant to be married and mothers. And if she could spend the evening avoiding the very married and intriguing earl, she’d consider the night a rousing success.

  The coach dropped her at Tipton House half an hour later. The house was an immense four-story sandstone structure with an entrance framed by stately white columns. Noelle followed the flow of guests into the opulent home, pausing beneath an enormous chandelier to get her bearings. Clearly no coin had been spared in the decorations. White roses sat in gold vases on hip-high white tables that resembled Greek columns. Gold silk tapestries adorned the white plastered walls, continuing the white-and-gold theme.

  This was Lady Tipton’s first party of this size. Though Noelle didn’t know the new bride intimately, they had spoken briefly several times and got on well. As Noelle moved gingerly through the house, she didn’t see her hostess but did spot her handsome cousin Simon in a dark blue coat. She headed in his direction. If the dangerous earl was lurking, Simon was the perfect man to keep her safe.

  Gavin clawed at his collar and felt a trickle of perspiration trailing down his spine. He was hot and out of sorts. Didn’t the Ton ever open their windows? With the heat of so many bodies, how was one expected to breathe normally in the stifling sp
ace?

  He reached to tug his high stock away from his neck and wished he could yank off his cravat and coat. However, some guests would find such behavior shocking, and he didn’t need more whispers.

  Though much of the Ton thought him an uncouth American, he was issued an invitation to every soiree because of his proper pedigree and wealth. Normally he avoided these large parties with all the marriageable ladies in attendance and hunting for husbands. Tonight he was on a mission, so he suffered for lust.

  He’d been stalking the halls and rooms on the first and second floors for over an hour and had found no sign of his lovely visitor. The chance she’d be a guest was slim, yet he’d had to try. The time he’d wasted away from the shipyard on this futile hunt raised his frustration. His body had been in a state of partial arousal since he’d pulled the courtesan-thief down onto his bed. It irked him that he couldn’t seduce and forget her.

  With his jaw clenched, and the cloying heat driving him toward the terrace doors, Gavin declared the night a waste of time. If he ducked out into the garden, he could be off without drawing his cousin Charles’s attention.

  Since Gavin’s arrival in London, his cousin had worked hard to find him a bride. Charles had even had the gall to have his bookkeeper, Jones, give a matchmaker a sketch and his personal information, in hopes the woman could find him a bride. A former courtesan bride. Charles even came out tonight, a rare occurrence, in hopes of having Gavin engaged before the clock struck midnight.

  No amount of protesting could keep Charles from his course.

  If not for a fire at the hotel where he’d been staying, Gavin wouldn’t have been forced to stay with Charles. Close quarters gave his cousin ample opportunity to press his case. Gavin needed to find a town house of his own. And soon.

  The only positive of living with Charles was meeting the mystery woman. But she wasn’t in the crush, and his cousin was busy lining up potential wives for introductions.

  Fleeing the party was Gavin’s best option, before his cousin arranged a wedding of inconvenience. Misery loved misery, and Charles desired all the men around him to be just as miserable as he was in his marriage.

  Gavin nodded to an acquaintance and took the most direct route toward the doors. Several young women cast him covert glances that he chose to ignore. He had almost made it to freedom when someone finally threw open the doors and a light breeze filtered across his warm face.

  But it wasn’t the air that drew his attention and caused his body to turn stiff and focused. It was the light scent of lemon and cinnamon that brought him upright in his tracks.

  Chapter Four

  Instant awareness zipped through his body like a fox sensing a hare hiding under a nearby bush. His gaze moved from face to face as he searched for his seductive visitor in the swirl of party guests. She was here! He knew it as well as he knew his own name. Never once before had he smelled that combination of scents in the sea of lilac and lavender most women favored.

  He might not clearly remember her face, but her scent was permanently etched in his mind. He’d not rest until he found her, even if he had to sniff dozens of necks. A slow grin spread over Gavin’s face. What a stir that would cause among the esteemed guests. He suspected he’d spend the rest of the evening fending off dueling challenges from irate husbands and fathers.

  Gavin moved slowly through the crowd, his head turning this way and that. Nothing could distract him from his mission.

  He was following her fleeting scent, as difficult as looking for a hairpin in a field of hay. But the little courtesan-thief was near. She’d not get away this time.

  It was nearly a half hour before he spotted a woman in pale cream, her flaxen hair upswept to show the perfect curve of her graceful neck. Her eyes shone as she turned slightly and smiled at some witticism spoken by her companion. Gavin’s eyes locked onto the side of her face.

  There was something familiar in her fine features. With his eyes he followed her neck downward to her trim back, then to a perfect, graceful rump.

  If this wasn’t his elusive courtesan, she was a nearly perfect replica from behind. The only way to know for certain was to cup her buttocks in his hands. He grinned. He had to wonder about the severity of the pummeling he’d receive from her companion if he tried.

  The woman was in conversation with a tall man in blue who smiled down at her with affection. The two seemed intimately acquainted as she brushed something off the man’s sleeve.

  Gavin scowled. If the man was her lover, it was a complication he didn’t need. If there was an arrangement between the pair, it could be difficult untangling the relationship. With her beauty, she wasn’t the sort of woman a man would give up easily.

  There were bits of memories coming together, a piece at a time. Gavin gnashed his teeth. Though he couldn’t recall everything about last night, he saw enough in the curve of her tiny, delightful ears, and the way she tilted her head slightly when listening to her companion, to gain confidence. He was certain his would-be courtesan tipped her head in just that way. It would take a closer look to confirm his suspicion.

  Eyes narrowed, he began taking a straight path across the space between them. Not wanting to alert her to his presence, he kept the crowd between them until she was steps away, then veered off to circle her and her companion.

  The blur of moving bodies faded as he saw more of her: her bright smile, her husky laugh, and a closer view of her sparkling eyes. She was stunning—and clearly not a courtesan. She was a Lady from head to toe. He didn’t need an introduction to see how well she fit in at this party.

  Still, it didn’t mean she was nobility. Many courtesans could blend quite well into society, as some came from impoverished, albeit well-placed, families.

  Desperation drew many to that life. Others saw it as a place of power in a man’s world. Either way, this woman was no common doxie.

  Gavin watched her place a gloved hand on her companion’s arm a second time, and felt a rush of annoyance pass through him. He wanted to jerk her hand away and drag her from the room. He wanted her touch; he wanted to press his face into her hair to confirm her identity through her scent. To see the intimacy between the pair only succeeded in raising his frustration.

  “You must excuse me, Simon,” she said, leaning in. Her lilting voice carried through the din. It was filled with good humor. “I must find Brenna.”

  Simon? Gavin blinked as she walked away. Given names were seldom used in society. His curiosity rose tenfold as he shook off his musings, locked onto her swinging hips, and headed off in her wake. If she truly was his mysterious would-be courtesan, he intended to get close enough to find out.

  Without her protector looming over her.

  Noelle spotted Brenna, clad in dark green satin. Her cousin was deep in conversation with an animated elderly woman who tapped her cane frequently when speaking, as if to prove a point. She decided not to interrupt. She needed a moment alone to collect herself. To find a place out of the crush of bodies in which to breathe in some perfume-free air.

  The evening was warm and the ballroom was stifling. A sheen of perspiration dampened the skin beneath her dress and caused the fabric to itch against her skin. Finding a cool spot to clear her head wouldn’t be too difficult, if she headed for one of the three sets of double doors that led outside.

  Of the three, the set farthest to the right appeared to overlook the darkest part of the terrace. She could slip away for a moment of welcome respite.

  Then a flash of gray caught her attention as someone stepped into her line of vision. Not twenty feet away, blocking the doorway and clad in a dark gray coat, striped waistcoat, and white breeches, was the earl.

  She gasped, and her feet faltered. His gaze locked onto hers. There was something in his eyes that gave her a clear indication he wasn’t just admiring an attractive woman. No, he seemed to recognize her!

  Her stomach lurched, and the room wavered.

  It was impossible he could recognize her! They’d spent perh
aps ten minutes together with only a small fire to light the room. And he’d been thoroughly foxed.

  It took every bit of the training she’d received since birth not to react to his appearance, in spite of the warmth flooding across her skin with the memory of his kisses. She lifted her nose and turned away as if they were strangers.

  Several matrons walked past, and she ducked behind them like a coward. A set of doors opened to a hallway on her right. Noelle hoped it led to a hiding place.

  The matrons stopped near the doors, and she slipped into the dim light of the hallway. A quick glance behind her confirmed that she’d lost him in the crowd. Relief flooded her mind as she stumbled into the nearest darkened room. With unsteady steps, she followed the trail of moonlight seeping through the drapes to a private corner of the room, behind a large potted plant.

  Once hidden away, she closed her eyes and inhaled to steady her heart.

  So close. She let her mind drift to the moment she’d caught his eye. Had he been looking at her only out of curiosity, or had he actually thought he knew her?

  She hoped not.

  He’d barely been able to stand last night. Likely the man thought her just a dream. Still, he was watching her as if he knew her, as if he wanted her. As if he wouldn’t rest until he kissed her again.

  Noelle groaned. It had been a mistake to attend this party. She should have allowed the full Season to pass before venturing out again. By then he’d have forgotten all about her.

  Her shoulders slumped. Why couldn’t she forget him? Why did her mind have to remember his perfect jaw, his blue eyes, and that muscled chest so warm beneath her exploring hands?

  A whisper of heat brushed her ear. “I have decided to take you up on your offer, sweet.”