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Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith

BOOK: The Accidental Courtesan
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Noelle considered confiding in Brenna. However, she couldn't be absolutely certain her cousin could keep the secret from her brothers. The more people who knew of her midnight climb up the trellis, the better her chances of arrest.
Still, Brenna would not be assuaged by a shrug and some silly excuse. So Noelle decided to produce some weak halftruths.
“There is a man, an earl, whom I stumbled across last week at the Billbury tea. He was most disagreeable.” She cast her gaze down to her feet. Noelle hated to lie to her favorite cousin, but the truth was worse. “I have tried to avoid him since.”
“I see.” Brenna frowned. “He is married?” At Noelle's nod, Brenna's mouth thinned. “Then you should attend the party with your head high and show the cad a Harrington will not be intimidated by his boorish presence. And if he makes an inappropriate advance, I shall summon Simon to beat him senseless.”
Noelle smiled widely. “That will be entirely unnecessary.” She couldn't bring herself to see such a handsome face damaged. He might be an unfaithful cad, but he was pleasant on the eyes. “I can handle the earl myself, thank you.”
“Then you will attend the party?”
Reservations tightened Noelle's stomach. Until last evening, she'd never seen the earl. His wife lived most of the year in Bath, and he spent most of his time there. His presence at the town house last night had been a surprise.
Bliss had assured Noelle he planned to be away for many weeks. Clearly, her information had been flawed.
Noelle's vow to withdraw from society faded with the pleading in Brenna's eyes. Perhaps she could attend this one last party before her exile. If she kept watch for him and avoided a chance meeting, she could enjoy the party without qualms. This was her first summer without her mother shoving every available dandy under her nose as a potential mate. Noelle just couldn't let the earl ruin it for her. He'd taken enough from her already.
She sighed. “I will.”
Brenna let out a squeal that drew the attention of several people strolling down the walk.
Noelle laughed at Brenna's open enthusiasm, said a brief good-bye to her cousin, and climbed into her carriage. As she slumped back in the seat, she hoped she'd have enough time for a short nap before the evening's festivities.
 
G
avin sat atop his gelding, his mind filled with the shadowy woman, berating himself for not having a clearer image of her face to work with. He remembered finding her enticing and delightfully sweet-tasting. Unfortunately, he couldn't recall enough to believe he could recognize her if he passed her on the street. Nor could he discover her identity with discreet inquiries in all the places they'd drunkenly weaved their way through last evening. She was truly a mystery.
If the woman had spoken truthfully about becoming his (er, Charles's) courtesan, she'd clearly changed her mind. There was no sight of her, nothing to clue him to her whereabouts.
So he picked his way gingerly down Bond Street after a fitting for a new coat, annoyed with the knowledge he might never see her again. He should be focused on his shipyard and the naval contract anyway. Still, the idea of a large payout in business didn't soothe the frustrating ache she'd left in his loins.
The street was jammed with shoppers and their conveyances of choice. Dust hung heavy in the air, and the smell of the masses and lathered horses assaulted his senses. He kept his hat low in hopes he'd not be accosted by anyone he knew and have to spend time in lengthy conversation.
The noise and the heat of the sun made him long for the days when, as a boy, he could swim nude in the chilly Atlantic whenever he pleased and lie on the grass looking at the clouds.
He casually tipped his hat at a young woman and elderly matron on the walk, both of them up to their knees in boxes. From beneath her bonnet, the chit leveled on him a less-than-innocent invitation with her eyes.
Gavin frowned and turned away. He wanted no part of the games virginal misses played to snag a husband. That trap had almost been sprung on him once, and he knew well the signs to avoid. He was content to remain a bachelor rather than shackle himself to an unfaithful miss who cared more about his fortune than the cut of his character.
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.
 
N
oelle 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.
 
G
avin 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 space?
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.

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