The Accidental Courtesan (20 page)

A smile tugged at her mouth. She drew a slow, measuring gaze down his body and then back up to his face. “Yes, but it will not bring me nearly as much pleasure.”

The direct hit to his manhood flared his nostrils. Teasing a man to arousal wasn't a brilliant idea. However, when the man was her outlandish Mister Blackwell, and he had no compunction about teasing her back with his own seductive words, she felt it was her duty to torment him in return.

His blue eyes turned stormy. “You worry me, Milady. You are enjoying your part as a courtesan far too much for comfort. I fear trouble is brewing ahead if you're not careful.”

Noelle screwed up her face. With Gavin at her side, how much trouble could she get into? “Are you warning me that I am not safe with you?” she asked innocently. She might not be safe with him, but she didn't fear the thugs. Gavin had taken on three and won. “Should I have the metalsmith fashion a chastity device that I might wear beneath my drawers?”

If it was possible for a frown to deepen to a dangerous level, his did. She almost stepped back beneath the intensity of his glare. She didn't know why she was teasing him, outside of the amusement it brought her. The wicked adventuress in her wanted Gavin to yank her into his arms and kiss her silly.

There were several places in the garden where the feat could be accomplished quite nicely.

Gavin shifted from foot to foot. She dared not look down at the front of his breeches for proof of his arousal.

“I'm warning you, My Lady Noelle. If you stoke the fire too high, you will get burned.” He gave her a terse nod and left her with the slam of the garden gate. Thomas fitted him with the blindfold, and Gavin awkwardly climbed inside the coach.

She wondered if he actually kept the blindfold on during the ride, and suspected he did not. Still, the painted windows and curtains would keep him from finding his way back.

“Oh, dear,” she whispered as the coach pulled away. His warning rang loudly in her ears. He was telling her she just might get what she was asking for if she wasn't careful. Gavin had made it clear that if she didn't want to remain innocent, she should continue her bold behavior.

A shiver raised the fine hairs on her arms. What
did
she want? Did she hope for an affair with a deliciously seductive man? Did she want this one opportunity to feel fully and completely desired before she became an old and dusty spinster?

She did. Lud, she did!

 

N
oelle managed a weak smile for the pair of women, Blythe and Sally, sitting opposite her in the coach. The third woman never showed up at the bookstore, so she didn't have to explain the presence of four women to Thomas. Truthfully, she was grateful he didn't recognize her.

How could he? She was fluffed, laced up, and powdered to such a degree that she'd make the bold Marie Antoinette envious, were the ill-fated queen still alive. The cream-colored vintage gown was slightly yellowed with age and smelled a bit musty. After spending decades in her attic, buried in a trunk, it needed more than one hour to air out.

Time Noelle hadn't had. The bookstore owner, Mister Potts, had been a client of Eva's and was married to the first courtesan Eva had rescued. Satisfied with the outcome of his marriage, he'd offered to help Eva collect the courtesans at predetermined times each month for transport to the school. Unless there was an emergency and a woman was in danger; then he'd send a note around to Eva and the woman was sent immediately to the school.

Bliss had somehow convinced him of her emergency. That was how she'd arrived unannounced.

If the other women found Noelle's appearance odd, covert glances aside, they kept their opinions to themselves. They chatted amiably about gowns and shoes and left her to herself. A few minutes later, the trio was ushered into the town house and directed to the parlor. Sophie joined them for an introductory tea. As she explained the rules of conduct and poured tea, Noelle let her mind drift. She'd spent much time in the town house of late but never had seen it through a courtesan's eyes. If she was to live as a courtesan, she had to see things as they did. She examined the uninteresting room and smugly realized the walls needed a new coat of paint.

Not exactly a stunning revelation.

So she sipped her tea and watched the four courtesans, Bliss and Edolie included, trying to focus on Sophie's words. The four shot her curious glances, trying not to be impolite. Per Eva's instructions, all were dressed in subdued colors. She was the only “courtesan” with enough lace and bows on her gown to sink one of Gavin's ships.

She bit back a sigh. She'd fully forgotten rule number one. Subdued. As she looked around the parlor, she knew, regardless of the muted color of the gown, that she stood out like a peacock in a pen of chickens. Sophie had arrived late and flustered to start the first lesson, so Noelle hadn't had a chance to speak with her alone. Although Sophie expected her to make an appearance at some point during the day, Noelle was amused to discover that Sophie didn't immediately recognize her. Perhaps the woman was so stunned by Marie Antoinette's appearance in the parlor that she couldn't bring herself to openly stare into Noelle's face for fear of appearing rude.

“You will carry yourself as ladies. Clothing with fabric thin enough to see through is forbidden,” Sophie said. Noelle's attention drifted in and out. The former courtesan knew her part well.

“You are here by choice,” Sophie continued. “If at any point you decide you do not want to obey the rules, you are welcome to le—” A commotion in the hallway interrupted her speech. After a flurry of rapid footsteps, Sophie broke into a smile. She stood.

All pairs of eyes turned toward the door as Eva, the Duchess of Stanfield, glided through the door in a simple gown of gray muslin, a wig similar in color to Noelle's that hid the true copper-gold color of her hair, and a pair of spectacles perched on her perfect nose.

Noelle almost let out a gasp of alarm.

“Sophie.” The two women embraced. In a year they'd become old friends. “Mother has recovered nicely, and I had to come back. The fresh country air was getting tiresome,” Eva said with a smile. She swept her gaze briefly around the room and seemed satisfied all was in hand. The courtesans would know her only as Miss Eva, spinster and courtesan savior. No hint of the beautiful duchess showed through her drab disguise.

Although she'd missed Eva, why did she have to return now and ruin everything?

Noelle's stomach clenched, and she slid down in her seat.

N
oelle watched as Eva moved from woman to woman, introducing herself as Miss Eva and welcoming them to her school. The young women seemed pleased to be part of the new class and twittered excitedly, knowing they were just weeks away from altering their lives forever.

Seated a bit off to the side, Noelle was last in the row; not close enough to launch herself out the narrow window, and farthest from the door, making an unnoticed escape impossible. She was trapped, fully and completely, beneath her high, stiff wig.

Unfortunately, no matter how desperately she wished it, and how many silent prayers she frantically rolled through her mind, the floral-patterned settee did not open up and swallow her whole.

She'd have to hope against hope that the disguise was enough to fool her painfully observant sister. Not likely!

What was Eva doing back so early? Noelle had received a letter from her sister just two days ago, advising her that she and Nicholas would not be back for almost two weeks. And unless time had sped forward while she was sleeping last evening, she still had twelve days! Twelve days to find out what she could about courtesans without her sister hovering over her like a hawk circling a hapless mouse.

All too soon, Eva stepped over to Noelle and extended her hand. She might as well have handed over a dead cod, for Noelle looked at the outstretched hand with the same enthusiasm.

“Welcome to my school. I am Miss Eva.”

Staring down at Eva's sensible hemline would only delay the inevitable. She breathed deeply and lifted her face. It took all of two heartbeats for Eva's breath to catch, and two more to recover from her surprise when Noelle shot her a pleading stare.

“How very nice to meet you, Miss Eva. I am Grace Templeton,” Noelle said smoothly, and took her hand. Her sister smiled tightly and pulled her to her feet. They bumped together as skirts and feet tangled.

“If you will excuse us, ladies, I would like to speak privately with Miss Templeton.” Noelle watched as finally a dawning came over Sophie's surprised face, and she shot Sophie a silent plea for help that went unanswered. Eva all but dragged her from the room and didn't release her until she'd closed the parlor door tightly behind them.

Noelle winced.

“What are you doing here, Noelle, dressed like you just stepped out of Napoleon's court?” Eva's voice was tight. “Did I miss the note about today being costume day at my school?”

Noelle forced a sheepish smile and patted the powdered wig. “I am in disguise. A pretty good one, if I say so myself. Even Sophie didn't recognize me.”

Noelle kept silent about Sophie being in on her plan.

Eva spoke through gritted teeth. “We are not here to discuss the height of your wig or the cut of that gown. I want to know why I came back from nursing my sick mother to find you seated among my courtesans.”

How much information should she share? If Eva knew what Noelle had been up to these last few days, what she'd done in the coach with Gavin, she'd be outraged.

Still, Eva was her sister and they shared a bond. Though they hadn't known each other long, Eva could read her very well. Lies wouldn't come easy. The best way to settle the matter would be to tell Eva the truth and take her lumps.

Besides, she'd been dreadfully lonely lately. Confiding in Eva would certainly help ease the burden of her secrets. And Eva might be able to help with the case. She was privy to all sorts of gossip.

Noelle slumped onto a narrow padded bench near the door. “I got myself into a pickle, and now I am working to get myself out of it.” She began the tale with Bliss and continued with the edited version until the entire tale was exposed—well, she left the coach part out. No sense ruffling Eva further. “After Mister Blackwell was attacked, we knew this was more than a simple theft. There are some dangerous characters hunting for the necklace.”

“Why would they attack Mister Blackwell if the earl is the owner of the piece?” Eva pressed a palm to her forehead.

“I can only surmise that when Bliss disappeared with the necklace, they thought perhaps she'd gone to return it to his lordship.” Noelle screwed up her brow. Another thought came to mind that helped explain the mix-up between Gavin and Seabrook. “I wonder if one of them was watching the house that evening and saw me climb the trellis. They might have seen me come and go and thought I was Bliss.” She paused. The puzzle had grown much larger. “If it is true, then someone was lingering outside. I'm lucky to have gotten away unmolested.”

“You were very lucky you weren't killed,” Eva said tightly. “Are you certain no one followed you home?”

Noelle shook her head. “I was careful. I didn't want the earl putting Bliss and me together. I paid a hackney driver to wait for me two streets over, and kept watch out the coach window for anything suspicious. There was no one on my trail.”

Eva put her hands to her mouth and joined her on the bench. Her eyes were both troubled and angry. “And now you have offered to become Mister Blackwell's courtesan as a way to flush out the criminals? Isn't there any other way?”

Noelle shook her head. “It is like acting a part in a play,” she rushed to explain. She brushed past images of Gavin's mouth on her nipples. “I am not about to become his courtesan in truth.”

She hoped if she kept her eyes averted, Eva wouldn't see guilt on her face. She'd never consider herself his courtesan. It wasn't proper. However, she'd acted like one in the coach. If Eva found out, she'd have Noelle locked in her cellar.

There was a long moment of silence while Eva pondered everything she'd learned. There was no indication of the direction of her thoughts.

“Who is this American, and can you trust him not to attempt to seduce you? I understand colonists live by an entirely different set of rules. Some actually live like barbarians in log huts. Or so I've been told.”

Rules that didn't exclude kissing, and fondling, and sucking the nipples of virginal spinsters, Noelle thought, and those very same nipples began to tingle beneath her bodice.

“He isn't actually an American. He was born here and
is
first cousin to the earl,” Noelle said weakly. It was impossible to think clearly when her body was recalling his seduction. “He's in your book. I've been instructed to remove him.”