The Courtesan's Daughter

by Claudia Dain

  “How much are you down?” Viscount Tannington asked from behind him.

  “I’m up more than fifty pounds, if you must know,” Ashdon said.

  “Saving for something specific?”

  “If you have something to say, Tannington, just say it,” Ashdon said, increasing his bet. “And don’t stand behind me.”

  Tannington moved to Ashdon’s right and said in an undertone, “The word is going around that Lady Caroline is in the market for a pearl necklace.”

  Ashdon felt his stomach clench and worked to keep his face neutral. “Isn’t every woman?” Ashdon said lightly. His left hand was trembling; he fisted it and kept his eyes on the gaming table.

  “I suppose so,” Tannington said. “I suppose it’s also true that whoever gives her pearls first will have her first favors. I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  Out of the corner of Ashdon’s eye, he saw Tannington shrug. “Everyone knows you gave her pearl earrings. It doesn’t seem fair for you to lose out on first favors because you can’t raise the blunt for a necklace. Unless you didn’t. Unless you got fair recompense on the earrings. Did you?”

  Ashdon was out of his chair before Tannington could get out of the way, which was just perfect. Ashdon landed two solid blows to Tannington’s gut before another member of White’s pulled him off, a member who turned out to be Cal.

  “Talk about her like that again,” Ashdon growled in a fierce undertone, “and it’s swords at dawn. You understand me?”

  “Naturally,” Tannington said stiffly.

  “Good-bye, Tannington,” Cal said, his hand heavy on Ashdon’s shoulder.

  “Until Hyde’s,” Tannington responded, and then he left the room, the sound of startled murmuring from the other members leaving with him.

  “What now?” Cal said as Ashdon collected his winnings.

  “Now I go to Hyde House. What else?”

  “Without a necklace,” Calbourne said.

  “Unless Dutton has one on him, without a necklace,” Ashdon said. “What else can I do?”

  “I think the question is, what else can she do?”

  Ashdon’s gut tightened and he said, “I’m about to find out.”

  THE crush was especially heavy at the entrance to the reception rooms of Hyde House, which of course was precisely the point. What other reason to have an assemblie than to see, be seen, and converse? The first-floor rooms of Hyde House were ideally situated for the flow of foot traffic of the assemblie variety. One entered the double reception rooms fronting the house and proceeded to the right to the red reception room, then to the yellow drawing room, to the dressing room, the bedchamber, the closet, the antechamber, the music room, and back to the first reception room, done in an intriguing shade of blue. It was noisy, it was crowded, and it was great fun.

  Sophia, Caro, and Anne were each wearing white muslin gowns with long enough trains to make negotiating the feet of the other guests a purely feminine challenge. Sophia was wearing her Westlin sapphires, a purely symbolic gesture, and wore a plume of blue feathers in her black hair to accentuate the point. Anne wore a pair of delicate garnet earrings and had arranged a petite strand of well-cut garnets in her dark red hair. The effect was striking. Caro, after much convincing, wore Ashdon’s pearl earrings. Her throat was bare in anticipation of the gift of a pearl necklace. Other than her earrings, Caro’s adornment was confined to a shell pink silk cord with hanging tassels that was fastened securely under her rather nice bosom. She looked innocent and virginal, which was completely intentional.

  Sophia was anticipating a rather rousing evening.

  “I don’t see Lord Ashdon,” Caro said from behind her fan.

  “Darling, the point is that Lord Ashdon see you.”

  “And the difference is?” Caro said.

  “Oh, Caro, you simply must learn how to play this game,” Sophia said softly.

  “There’s Lord Staverton,” Anne whispered. “Should we approach him?”

  “No, darling,” Sophia purred. “Let him come to us. It’s so much sweeter that way, and he’ll enjoy himself so much more if he can play the tiger to our gazelle.”

  “Mother!”

  “It’s a metaphor, darling, no need to be alarmed. And here he comes. Darling Staverton, he really is so good at this. You’ll be blissfully happy, Anne, I promise you.”

  “Lady Dalby,” Lord Staverton said with a crisp bow. He had quite a fine leg for a gentleman of his age. “Lady Caroline. Mrs. Warren,” he said, his bow a tad deeper and his wandering eye wandering less than usual when facing Anne.

  “Lord Staverton,” Sophia said with a soft smile, “how well you look this evening. There is not a man here who is not envious of your well-turned leg.”

  “Nonsense,” Staverton said, blushing like a girl.

  Anne smiled to see him blush. It was most sweet of him to do so. He truly seemed a gentle man of good temper. And he was titled, let no one forget that.

  “How is the evening thus far?” Sophia asked.

  “Better since the arrival of the ladies of Dalby House,” he answered. “You are looking rather lovely, Mrs. Warren, if I may say.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Anne said. At Sophia’s delicate cough, she added, “And of course you may say. I welcome all your observations . . . and attention.”

  The result of that comment was that Lord Staverton blushed rather violently. It was completely charming. Whatever reservations Anne may have hidden away in the shadowed depths of her heart, though she was quite certain she had no shadows in her heart, vanished as she considered Lord Staverton’s blush. This man, this gentle man, was her future. Lord Dutton was not going to be allowed to interfere with her future, just as he was not going to be permitted to interfere with her present. Lord Dutton could go drown himself in a vat of brandy at White’s. And that was the last she was going to think of the devilish Lord Dutton.

  “Dare I ask?” Staverton said. “May I enquire . . . is there any chance . . . ?”

  “My darling Lord Staverton,” Sophia interrupted, “you are quite the most romantic man of my acquaintance. Since you are befuddled by hope, and Mrs. Warren is rather too reserved for such discourse, allow me to intervene. I have told Mrs. Warren of your regard, Stavey, and she returns it without hesitation. The wedding may take place at any date which best accommodates you. There. Have I acted out of turn? I do apologize, but one cannot watch two such dear, hesitant souls wander about without trying to guide and direct them. I hope I shall be forgiven for being forward? ”

  Lord Staverton, whose eyes were a very warm and cheery shade of brown, glowed. Anne could not help but glow at him in return. Her heart, far from feeling heavy at her decision, fairly soared above the room. Here was a good man, and she would make him a good wife. All other desires were like opium dreams, distorted and unhealthy and certainly unproductive.

  Anne would always remember that she had begun her new life with Lord Staverton in Hyde House, in the red reception room.

  Caro would always remember that Lord Henry Blakesley had ended her life as she knew it in the red reception room of Hyde House.

  Caro never even saw him coming, which seemed symbolic somehow. As to that, Lord Henry Blakesley had never paid particular attention to her before, all his time being spent with Lady Louisa Kirkland, who was as mysteriously absent as Lord Henry Blakesley was disturbingly present. Yes, disturbingly. There was something distinctly odd about Lord Henry’s manner; he was being entirely too attentive and standing entirely too close.

  Caro, not without cause, suspected her mother had had a hand in this.

  “Good evening, Lady Caroline,” Lord Henry said, standing so that his foot was just touching her hem. It was flagrantly indelicate. She couldn’t move an inch in the crush to disengage herself, and her mother and Anne were too busy fawning over Lord Staverton to even notice that Lord Henry was inching her into the adjoining yellow drawing room.

  “Good evening,
Lord Henry. Are Lady Louisa and Lady Jordan with you this evening? ” It was far from subtle, but then so was his foot, which had now crept into her skirts so that he was half buried in white muslin.

  “No,” he said with a smile. There was something almost sharkish in Lord Henry’s smile. Funny, but she’d never noticed that about him before. “I’m here all alone tonight, acting as something of a host.”

  “Yes, and how is your father?”

  “Hiding in the closet, last I looked,” Blakesley said with a huge grin. He had quite nice teeth. She supposed that was common among sharks.

  “He doesn’t like these sorts of gatherings?” she said, trying to edge back a step and getting an elbow in the ribs for her efforts. It didn’t seem fair that Blakesley was moving her fully into the yellow drawing room without any apparent difficulty, the sea opening before him, as it were. Caro lost sight of her mother and Anne in the next breath.

  And caught sight of Louisa Kirkland and Amelia Caversham in the following breath. They were standing like two pale statues next to the fireplace in the drawing room, looking particularly stunning, unfortunately, as the room was decorated in a wash of pale yellow silk damask that suited them to perfection. Caro was equally certain that she had looked better in the more vibrant tones of the red reception room. Ah, well. Lord Henry didn’t seem to mind.

  “Of course not,” Blakesley answered. “No man does, I should think. These affairs are for women, are they not?”

  “Then why do men come?” she asked.

  “Why, for the women,” Blakesley answered on a short laugh.

  “And a man will do anything in his quest for a woman?” she asked as Blakesley maneuvered her yet again to a spot opposite the fireplace and two pale statues, who were staring at her.

  “Of course,” he answered softly, his golden hair gleaming in the candlelight. Not only did the yellow silk compliment Louisa’s and Amelia’s looks, it did wonders for Blakesley’s. She’d never before noticed how light a blue his eyes were, nor the rather fine quality of his complexion.

  “So a man says,” she answered, giving up all hopes of ever making her way back to the red reception room. The flow of traffic was forward, ever forward, and she was relentlessly being separated from her mother and Anne. It might not be a bad time to practice the game, as her mother so blatantly named it. Lord Henry seemed a willing candidate, and she certainly did not need to worry about offending him. Blakesley was rather known for being thick-skinned. “But when called to task? When called upon to deliver ? ”

  “For God and country?” he said with a lopsided grin.

  “Exactly. For God and country, yes, he will all and more. I have no doubt of it. But for a woman? What will a man truly do?”

  “Lady Caroline, you intrigue me. You truly do,” he said, eyeing her closely. She was not at all sure that she liked it. On the other hand, she was not at all sure that she didn’t. “Shall we put it to the test?”

  Which of course reminded her of what her mother had said earlier. “Tell me, Lord Henry, do men like to be put to the test?”

  “I would say it depends on the test.”

  “Which is to say, it depends on the woman.”

  “If you say so,” he said, staring into her eyes. He had the lightest blue eyes, like a clear winter sky.

  “No, Lord Henry, that is entirely the point. I want you to say so.”

  “Yes,” he whispered hoarsely, “it depends on the woman.”

  A shiver went down her spine. She was completely certain that shivering was an appropriate response to being pressed against a shark.

  “Ask me, Caro,” he whispered. “Test me.”

  “Test you to do what, my lord?” she whispered in return.

  “What is it you want? What is it you would have?” Knowledge shone out of his blue eyes, and she did not like it. “Ask me, Caro. Let me prove myself upon your quest.” Good God, her mother was right! “Say it,” he urged.

  She didn’t know what possessed her. She didn’t know where the words came from. She certainly didn’t know why she was having this conversation with Lord Henry unless it was the power over him he seemed so willing to give her. Heady stuff, that.

  “I want a pearl necklace,” she whispered, staring into his eyes, uncertain what she would see there. She let the words hover in the air between, saw his eyes crinkle in satisfaction, heard him expel a breath she had not known he was holding. What Caro did not see in Blakesley’s eyes was surprise. “Would you like to give me one?” she asked.

  “I would very much like to give you one,” he said, and he lifted his left hand, snapped his fingers, and a footman appeared from the far side of the large room carrying a small silver tray. The footman carried it high in his hand, above the heads of the crowded drawing room. It wasn’t long before a path cleared for him. It wasn’t long before the sounds of conversation stopped. But it was a very long time before the footman reached Lord Henry and lowered the silver tray and held out to the fourth son of the Duke of Hyde a long, coiled, pearl necklace. “Would you like this one?” Blakesley asked.

  “It was just a game,” Caro whispered, ducking her head against the roomful of stares.

  “It is still a game, Caro,” Blakesley whispered in return.

  “I don’t know how to play this game very well.”

  “Take the necklace,” he urged softly, ignoring the entire room to look down at her with his very amused blue eyes. “It is your move, and it is the right one.”

  “Lord Henry, I don’t think I should trust you to give me sound advice.”

  Blakesley laughed under his breath and said, “You are correct, but in this instance, you can trust me. Take the necklace, or better still, let me drape it upon you.”

  “I cannot!” she said, feeling her cheeks flush.

  “Because of Ashdon? It is because of Lord Ashdon that you should take it.”

  Did the whole world know about her arrangement with Lord Ashdon?

  “Why?” she said, staring at him, looking for deceit and seeing only amusement in his eyes.

  “Wear my pearls and see what Ashdon will do next. That is how the game is played.”

  “A rather brutal game,” she murmured.

  Blakesley laughed as he lifted the pearl necklace from off the tray and placed it carefully over her coiled hair and around her neck. “It is that, Caro. It is a very brutal game, but you want to win it, don’t you?”

  She most certainly did.

  “SHE most certainly did,” Dutton snarled softly. “Anne Warren refused to see me. With that sort of help you’ll never see a pearl necklace from me.”

  Ashdon and Calbourne, just arrived and still in the blue reception room, the first room on the assemblie circuit at Hyde House, had been accosted by Dutton the moment their feet had entered the house. It was a less than pleasant start to the evening.

  “Do you have a pearl necklace for me?” Ashdon said softly as they moved through the crush of the blue reception room and into the equally great crush of the red. Ashdon did not see Caro, though Lady Dalby was talking with Mrs. Warren and Lord Staverton in intimate tones. Things did not seem to be going well there, not for Dutton at any rate; whatever it was that was being discussed, Lord Staverton looked delighted.

  “As a point of fact, I do,” Dutton bit out. “Not that I’m going to give it to you to throw away on Caroline Trevelyan. Not when things with Mrs. Warren are fouled beyond reckoning.”

  “You have a necklace? Pearls?” Ashdon said.

  “Pearls, yes, down to her belly.”

  “Where did you get them?” Calbourne asked.

  “Are you in this now, your grace?” Dutton said. “I wasn’t aware we were forming a club.”

  “Where?” Ashdon said.

  “If you must know,” Dutton said, “I sold my thoroughbred, Highstep, to the Marquis of Melverley today. He paid me in pounds and pearls.”

  “No,” Calbourne said in shock, “you didn’t. Why would you sell Highstep? He was the foundat
ion of your racing stock.”

  Dutton shrugged. “I was thinking of selling Highstep anyway as I’ve had my eye on a foal out of Roxanne. This sudden need for pearls, Melverley’s hunger for Highstep, well, the timing came together. It’s too bad that you didn’t hold up your end, Ashdon. These pearls are burning a hole in my pocket. Since Lady Caroline desires pearls, why shouldn’t I be the one to give them to her?”

  “We had an agreement,” Ashdon spit out. “It was your idea to begin with.”