Mary Blayney - [Pennistan 04]

by Courtesan's Kiss

  ALSO BY MARY BLAYNEY

  Traitor’s Kiss / Lover’s Kiss

  Stranger’s Kiss

  Mary Jean Murray Walker

  and

  Barbara Zurawel Wallner:

  All through high school we

  plotted stories together with

  no idea where that would lead.

  Contents

  Other Books by this Author

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Excerpt from One More Kiss

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  A Travelers’ Inn

  The Cotswolds

  July 1819

  “NO IS THE most valuable word in the English language.” Mia Castellano raised two fingers to her mouth and tried to think of someplace, anyplace on earth, where women were as powerful as men. “Indeed, no is the most valuable word in any language.”

  “You cannot mean that,” Miss Cole protested, her sweet face losing much of its charm when she frowned. “Shouldn’t a young lady always be obliging?”

  Mia knew she would say that. She just knew it. Mia stood up and walked to the sideboard, drawing in the scent of the rose-filled arrangement. When everything else went awry, the scent of roses always refreshed her heart. She poured herself some tea and offered some to Miss Cole. After serving her, Mia began to put some of the sweet and savory treats on a plate.

  She paused, turned back to this chance acquaintance, and looked her straight in the eye. “Of course, one likes to be obliging as often as possible, but think how often we are compelled by good manners to do something we do not truly wish to do.” She could sum up most of her life with that thought, at least until she herself had realized the power of “No.”

  “Oh, yes.” Miss Cole’s words echoed with long suffering.

  “It is the curse of being a lady, is it not?” Mia continued.

  “Even this trip to London,” Miss Cole went on with growing enthusiasm for the subject. “I want nothing more than to start my first Season. I thought we should leave next week after Aunt Marjorie’s birthday, but Warren insisted that he had to be in Town this week.”

  “If you had said ‘No’ quite firmly, what would have happened?”

  “Why, I do not know.” Miss Cole thought through the conundrum for a moment. “My brother would have gone without me, I expect.”

  “Precisely.” Mia set the plate on the table between them.

  “You know, I do believe you are right. Mama would have allowed me to stay to help her with her packing and I could have come with her. We would have been very crowded, but I could have sent most of my trunks and even my maid ahead with Warren.”

  “That is proof, is it not? No is the most important word in the world.” Despite her initial annoyance at not having privacy, Mia found it rather enlivening to share the inn’s sitting room with a girl as young and unformed as Miss Cole. Someone she could actually help, if not tutor, in ways to make the most of her Season.

  “Excuse me,” Mia began as she took her seat again. “But why are you going to London in July? The Season has ended and the new one will not begin until next winter.”

  “Yes, I know, but my older sister lives in London and has just given birth. Mama insists that we need six months to prepare for the Season. The truth is she cannot wait to see her first grandchild.”

  Miss Cole did not seem to mind that a baby would upstage her Season. What a generous soul.

  The two young women sat in companionable silence. Mia considered what to suggest next. It was so much more worthwhile than dwelling on her wounded heart.

  The door burst open with a rudeness that matched the manners of the man who entered. Lord David Pennistan came into the parlor with his usual ill humor. He was nothing if not belligerent. Add to that unfriendly, closemouthed, and secretive.

  How perfectly awful that Elena’s husband had chosen him to act as her escort. But if she were ever to say “No!” to the Duke of Meryon, it would be over something much more important than the company of a man who regarded her with disgust. She hoped he could feel her disdain. His opinion meant less than nothing to her.

  “We will leave now, Miss Castellano.”

  Lord David did not bow or in any way acknowledge Miss Cole, manners being completely foreign to him.

  “The horses are ready and we have another seventeen miles to cover before we stop for the night.” The clamor of the hectic posting house added to the sense of urgency.

  If he had asked politely, Mia might have agreed, but his idea of conversation consisted of a series of commands that would annoy the most amiable of women.

  “No, Lord David.” Mia flicked a glance at Miss Cole. “I am not quite ready.”

  Lord David gave a curt nod. “Five minutes and we leave.”

  He closed the door without waiting for her agreement. That would cost him. “You see how well ‘no’ can work.”

  “Yes, but if you will excuse me, how can you say no to such a handsome man?”

  “Quite easily.” Oh my, this girl had so much to learn, Mia thought. What a shame that she would not be in London to show her the way. “Yes, his expression is compelling and the broad shoulders impressive.” Blond and handsome could be said of all the Pennistan men, Lord David included. “But he never smiles, has no conversation, and when he does speak it is to tell me to do something that I would rather not, and he is traveling without his valet.”

  “Without a valet!”

  Mia knew that would shock the proper Miss, and it was so much more polite than the truth.

  “Yes, indeed he is. He says that since this trip is so short, it is more efficient to send his valet ahead with his trunks. But, I ask you, how can a man manage alone? He must shave himself and tie his own cravat, not to mention polish his own boots.”

  Miss Cole nodded. In truth, Mia agreed that a man could manage for himself for a few days, but the list of what the ton considered essential would convince Miss Cole of Mia’s most important point. “The word no was invented for men like him.”

  Mia picked one rose from a small vase on the table, held it to her nose, and then tucked it into the buttonhole of her traveling gown. “I promise you that halfway through your first Season, you will realize that making a match is about more than how a man looks at you and how many flowers and sweets he sends.”

  “Yes, I am sure you are right.” Miss Cole spoke as though the conversation made her uncomfortable. That was unfortunate. This subject was
too important to ignore.

  “Miss Cole, your Season is about finding the right match. And to that end it is in your best interest to collect as many admirers as possible. To make it clear that you have high expectations and more to give than they can even imagine. And I assure you, Miss Cole, men have very good imaginations when it comes to women.”

  “You mean I should be a flirt?” Shock echoed in her voice.

  “No, I do not. I mean you should charm every man you meet and not stop until all of the ton is at your feet. Then you shall have choices.”

  Miss Cole laughed. “I do not see how using the word no will have all of society bowing before me.”

  “It will make it clear that you are more woman than girl and that you know your own mind. Men find that very attractive. It implies that you are not constrained by society.” Mia leaned across the table and touched Miss Cole’s hand. “Promise me you will use the word no at least four times today.”

  “I shall try.”

  Miss Cole agreed easily enough, though Mia would have liked to hear a more determined tone.

  “I shall try after we reach London.”

  That meant never. “Are you afraid that if you say ‘No’ your brother will abandon you?”

  “Not precisely, but if he is irritated he will not give a thought to my comfort and it will be a miserable trip. He is prone to bursts of temper that leave me in tears.”

  “But once you see the power in the word, you will not need to cry because he will be doing as you wish.”

  Miss Cole bit her lower lip.

  Mia wished she could think of a way to convince this girl that future success merited the initial discomfort. She was proof of that. What could be worse than ending an engagement? And yet, after just two months, she was beginning to see that it had all been for the best.

  Finally, Miss Cole nodded cautiously. “It seems to me, Miss Castellano, that the tone is as important as the word.”

  “Oh, very good.” Hope lived! “Sometimes imperious works best. I pretend I am a queen. Other times my ‘No!’ is a command and I pretend I am Wellington and the word carries all the authority of his rank and success. And there is the ‘No’ that is a contest of wills. I think of a courtesan whose lover is begging for her favors.”

  “Oh my. I have never even seen a courtesan, much less heard one speak.”

  “Well, you will when you reach London. You will not socialize with them, of course, but you’ll see them in shops and at the theater. Indeed, from my observations I think courtesans have a very advantageous way of life.”

  “That cannot be!”

  “Think on it.” Mia ticked off the reasons, raising a finger for each one. “They decide with whom they will sleep. They have their own houses. They make the rules. They have control of all their own money, and they can dismiss a lover far more easily than a woman can rid herself of a husband.”

  Miss Cole giggled.

  The girl showed more embarrassment than intrigue at the frank discussion. Mia reached out and patted her hand again.

  “I am sorry if that offends you. There are times when I speak too bluntly and this is one of them. Please, forget I made the comparison. If marriage is what you want, then I encourage you to take your time and consider all your choices. All the possibilities. The Season is ideal for that. I myself am headed in a different direction.”

  “You’re not going to London?”

  The girl had a brain, Mia could tell that, but she did seem to take everything quite literally. “No, I am going to Derbyshire to see the Duke and Duchess of Meryon.” She picked a small bit of the lemon bar and nibbled, enjoying the sweet tart flavor she loved as she decided how best to explain the visit. “You see, the duke’s wife is my guardian. Indeed, she has been my guardian since long before she married the duke last year. The duke’s brother is escorting me as he has just finished business in the Cotswolds near where I was visiting.”

  “A house party. You are going to a house party at the Duke of Meryon’s estate?”

  “Yes, yes. It will be grand,” Mia lied. She picked at the rest of the lemon bar on her plate and Miss Cole did the same.

  Mia would not call a gathering of family a house party. Especially one where she would have to explain why her engagement had ended. Please, she prayed, not in front of Lord David. But no matter how private the discussion, the facts would dampen everyone’s good spirits. Mia is back and we have no idea what to do with her.

  Well, she now had an answer for that. If she did not, never had, fit in anywhere, she would create her own life and live it on her own terms.

  No tears, she commanded herself as she felt them threaten. If you cry people will think William broke your heart.

  The door burst open, again, and an even more impatient Lord David leaned into the room. “Miss Castellano, the horses grow restless.”

  “No, my lord, I am not yet ready.”

  “Yes, you are, Miss Castellano. Now.”

  He aggravated her so much that she did not even deign to answer the boor.

  Lord David came fully into the room and she could feel his anger. She stood up to face him.

  “No, Lord David. We can leave after I have finished this conversation.”

  “Miss Castellano, this conversation is finished.” Lord David grabbed her cloak from the hook on the wall, swirled it around her, and then swooped her up in his arms and headed for the door.

  Oh my. The sensation of power overwhelmed her even in the arms of a man she detested. A thrill flashed through her and she wanted to struggle against him with the secret hope that he would know her rebuff was really a longing for more. How romantic it would be to be mastered by someone who could read her mind and not take no for an answer when she did not mean it, someone she actually found attractive. Not a man who had witnessed the most hideous moment of her life.

  Not Lord David Pennistan.

  Mia looked over his shoulder at the shocked Miss Cole and made herself smile. She might have lost the battle but the war had just begun.

  The rose crushed between them did little to mask Lord David’s scent. Not cologne. Only a gentleman would use something that refined. His coat smelled of tobacco as well as leather and pine as though he spent a lot of time out-of-doors, in a saddle.

  Thinking of herself as an actress on an informal stage, she buried her face in Lord David’s shoulder and trusted that other travelers would think her overcome with fatigue or grief.

  Mia decided that, under the right circumstances—that is, with a different man—this could have led to a very interesting adventure.

  The way he dumped her into the carriage and slammed the door made it clear that Lord David Pennistan did not share her excellent imagination.

  Chapter Two

  DAVID SLAMMED THE DOOR and threw the rose she had been wearing to the ground. Crushed between them, its sweet smell had blended with her perfume. The scent lingered, tangy, steeped in spices that reminded him of incense and flowers like carnations and jasmine. A heady mix that aroused him almost as much as her beauty.

  Damnation, I have work to do. Work that did not include accompanying a stubborn woman to Pennford.

  The cotton mill, he reminded himself. Forget her and think about the mill. He was so close to securing what he needed, so close to success.

  Tonight he would complete his presentation for Thomas Sebold. The man’s financial support was as essential as the plans he was going to share for the mill.

  David set a pace to match that of the much-too-slowly-moving coach. The letter that made this trip mandatory lay burnt to a cinder in Gabriel’s fireplace in Sussex. David did not need it in front of him to remember the wording.

  Since you are coming north, the duchess would appreciate it if you would escort her ward. Since she and Viscount Bendasbrook have ended their engagement, we both feel it would be wise for Miss Castellano to retire from society, for as long as a year, and spend the time at Pennford with us.

  David wondered how much the duke
and duchess knew about the scandal. The ton lived for details behind the obviously unhappy end of the engagement between Miss Castellano and Lord William Bendasbrook. No doubt someone would have sent the details north to Derbyshire.

  Surely Lord Arthur had known she was engaged to the viscount when they kissed. What David had wondered for weeks now was whether Mia Castellano had wanted Lord William to find them in the embrace. Surely she had not expected him to be with William.

  God only knew what either Arthur or the girl had been thinking, if they had thought at all. Reasoned thought did not appear to be one of Miss Castellano’s strong points.

  Escorting her was not a test of his control, merely a chore he could not refuse. Meryon’s last line made that clear.

  If you write to the trustees, I will have the estate’s half of the funds for the support of your first manufacturing effort ready when you arrive.

  The duke knew David would balk without the promise of that reward. His brother could have saved ink and paper if he had just written “Bring her and you can have the money.”

  David reminded himself of the greater goal. The cotton mill would take him one step closer to financial independence on his own terms. He ignored the irony in the fact it would take his brother’s money to do it. He refused to even consider the truth that he had failed at a bid for independence once before. Only in his nightmares did he consider the consequences of failing again.

  Mia Castellano should be the least of his headaches. Would it be better to ignore her antics or force her to accept that he was the one in charge?