The Courtesan Duchess (4 page)

“Oh, that story is tiresome. I did no such thing.” Julia raised her glasses again to blithely peer out at the crowd. “I sent it back because it was ugly.”

Nick gave a short, genuine bark of laughter. “Well, I shall endeavor to be more selective in my gifts.”

“Are there to be more gifts, Your Grace?” She meant for the comment to be playful and flirtatious, but her voice betrayed her with a husky and intimate tone.

His lids dipped and he edged closer. “Whatever you wish for, Mrs. Leighton, shall be yours.”

Julia couldn’t prevent the shiver that traveled the length of her body. Thanks to Pearl’s instructions, the sensual promise in his words was not lost on her. While she knew exactly what he wanted from her, she could only be grateful that Nick had no suspicion of what
she
wanted from
him
.

The music swelled, sparing her the need to respond.

With her husband’s leg tucked snugly against hers, any effort to concentrate on Rossini’s heroic opera failed. She used the opportunity to think over her plan.

First, gain Colton’s interest. Next, stage a falling-out with Simon in public. Colton would then pursue her and, a few days later, she would allow him to catch her. All that remained would be to engage in activities as old as time, as often as possible.

Julia was nervous, but not scared. Pearl had given her the basic details of what took place, plus ways to increase a man’s pleasure. She’d also learned, despite her initial embarrassment, about her own pleasure since Pearl maintained that a courtesan as successful as the mythical Mrs. Leighton would ensure both partners enjoyed the experience.

But Julia had been unprepared for what it would feel like to sit next to this compellingly handsome man, her husband, while the heat from his muscled thigh warmed her leg through layers of clothing. His well-proportioned body so near, their shoulders lightly touching, had her insides now throbbing in time with the beat of her heart. She hadn’t expected to be so attracted to him. After all, he had ignored her for so long that she’d built up a sizable amount of resentment toward him. But those feelings were fast receding in the face of his wickedly powerful presence.

Struggling with the idea of actually
liking
him, Julia wondered if such a thing made her goal easier or more difficult to accomplish.

In the end, it didn’t matter. Templeton must be stopped and producing the Colton heir was the only way to do it.

She decided to tempt him a bit. After all, she needed to seduce the man.

Julia let her opera glasses fall from her fingertips to the carpeted floor between them, where they landed with a thud. “Oh!” she whispered.

The duke’s head turned her way, a black eyebrow raised in question.

“Your Grace, I seem to have dropped my opera glasses. Would you be so kind?”

Nick politely inclined his head before he bent over, his fingers searching in the semi-darkness for her glasses. Julia waited a beat and then lifted the hem of her skirt and petticoats up to her shins. Sliding her leg toward him a bit, she was rewarded when his fingertips brushed her stocking-covered ankle.

His shoulders tensed, as if she’d surprised him, and then she felt his hand, ever so slowly, slide up the back of her calf, his touch a white-hot charge through the silk. She couldn’t prevent a gasp from escaping. When he reached the back of her knee, his fingers lingered there, drawing a delicate pattern on the soft underside. Julia closed her eyes and bit her lip while trying to maintain her composure. Something hot and needy unfurled low in her belly, a feeling she suspected was unbridled arousal for her husband.

He seemed in no hurry to remove his hand and Julia wasn’t sure how much more she could take without moaning in sheer bliss. “Do you see them, Your Grace?” she breathed.

His hand fell away, and a second later he straightened. “Your glasses, Mrs. Leighton.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, and accepted the glasses from his hand.

“Anytime,” he returned, his husky tone making the meaning quite clear.

Her cheeks flooded with heat, and she was grateful for the low light that hid her blush. She attempted to calm herself throughout the remainder of the first act.

Just before the second act began, Nick leaned over again, and his now-familiar scent of citrus and musk teased her nose. “May I escort you home later, Mrs. Leighton?”

“Simon shall escort me home. And as
helpful
as you’ve been this evening, I’m not currently seeking another bed partner, Your Grace.”

“Oh, no. It’s much too soon to become lovers.” He drew closer to her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin. “When I finally take you, Juliet, when I finally have you naked underneath me, the memory of every other man you’ve been with will be forgotten. You shall think of only me . . . and beg me to make you mine.”

All the air left her chest in a
whoosh.
A rush of desire swept through her, so strong her knees surely would have given out if she’d been standing. He was the very devil, everything dark and forbidden and wanting in her life.

And she was way out of her depth.

She searched for something witty to say but came up empty.

Until words she’d heard spoken by Pearl months before came to mind. They tumbled out of Julia’s mouth. “I wonder if you truly possess the skill to back up your arrogance.”

His eyes heated to liquid silver. “If you find a private alcove, I’ll happily demonstrate my abilities before the end of the performance. After all, it’s only fair to know what you’re getting.”

The mention of the alcove was like a douse of cold water. How many alcoves and how many women were in his past? No doubt he’d trysted in buildings from Paris to Pisa. Still, she played her part. “An alcove? I hadn’t thought you so unoriginal.”

She’d intended to offend him, but he merely winked at her. “Then I look forward to proving exactly how creative I can be.”

After the opera the entire party traveled to a nearby coffeehouse. Simon escorted her between locations, but once there, Nick deftly maneuvered the seating in order to ensure the two of them sat together. Simon ended up at the other end of the table, next to Veronica, his companion at the opera.

The after-theater crowd was lively and loud, and the smell of coffee permeated the open space. Julia ordered plain coffee, while Nick asked for
caffè corretto,
coffee with a shot of grappa.

As she chatted with the mistress of a local painter, she could feel Nick’s eyes, intense and dark, watching her like his next meal. Every bit of her skin came alive, crawling and itching with awareness. Pearl Kelly had instructed Julia never to waste an opportunity to flaunt her charms, so since Nick was watching . . . She slid her fingers under the long double strand of pearls around her neck and toyed with them, dragging the smooth, creamy balls back and forth over her exposed bosom while she conversed.

She felt Nick lean in, his mouth near her ear. “Oh, to be a pearl at this very moment.”

Julia looked up at him through her lashes. “Indeed? I shouldn’t think you’d want to be anything so . . . small, Your Grace.”

He flashed her a wicked smile, his voice a deep rumble. “I never said a word about being small.”

Thankfully, their drinks arrived at that moment. Julia busied herself with adding cream and sugar to her coffee, grateful to have something to focus on other than her husband.

After the group settled with their drinks, Nick turned to Julia. “Well, Mrs. Leighton, what did you think of Rossini’s work this evening?”

“Exhilarating,” she answered, and all eyes turned her way. “A real maturation from his earlier pieces and the perfect essence of bel canto. The work is quite a rigorous test of his mezzo-soprano’s abilities, who must possess true vocal agility and endurance in order to carry out the part. I particularly enjoyed
‘Di tanti palpiti,’
although I believe the ending of the story needs work.”

No one spoke. Somewhere, a spoon clattered against a saucer. Julia sipped her coffee, reveling in the surprise at her response. She’d never admit it, but she’d been arranging her thoughts since the curtain fell in the hopes of impressing the duke.

“Needs work?” someone from down the table asked.

Julia nodded. “It’s too dark. Rossini would be better served to have Tancredi learn of his lover’s innocence and return home in triumph. Don’t you agree, Your Grace?” She snuck a glance at Simon, who gave her an encouraging wink.

“Yes.” Nick leaned back in his chair. “Though such a twist would hardly be consistent with Voltaire’s story on which it’s based.”

“Since Voltaire is dead, one can hardly worry about his disapproval with taking liberties.” Julia grinned, unable to contain her enjoyment at the exchange.

“Well, taking liberties is something Colton is certainly familiar with,” said the current British ambassador to Austria, Lord Lanceford, from across the table. The whole party laughed.

“Indeed. After all, how else would one earn a nickname like the Depraved Duke?” Julia wondered aloud.

“I’ve never taken liberties,” Nick murmured only for her. “They’ve always been offered freely.”

“I believe it,” she replied. “I cannot see you ravishing innocent maidens.”

“Innocent maidens bore me to tears. I much prefer to ravish saucy, red-headed women with blue eyes as clear as the Mediterranean.”

“How . . . precise your tastes are, Your Grace.”

“I know what I want, Mrs. Leighton. And I want
you
. Naked. Shuddering beneath me, screaming my name.”

Julia tried not to blush, but between her fair skin and his naughty words, heat crept slowly up her neck. She sipped her coffee and prayed her husband would not notice.

“My dear Mrs. Leighton,” Lanceford began. “How charming to see a woman of your experience can still blush.”

“Oh, I fear it’s nothing but a combination of the hot coffee and the warm air,” she lied. “I’ll recover in a few moments.”

She risked a glance at Colton and found him studying her carefully, the edges of his lips turned up into the barest hint of a smile. Embarrassed, her eyes slid away and she attempted to distract herself by listening to the other guests.

Conversation turned to politics and Julia’s attention wandered. In an effort to think about anything other than Nick, she imagined the third bedchamber in her small house in Mayfair. It would make a splendid nursery for her son. How should she decorate it? Perhaps she’d have the walls painted with tales of knights and maidens—

Julia felt her skirts suddenly shift. A large foot made its way underneath the fabric to rub against her leg. Swallowing a squeak, Julia tried to move away but the foot followed. She immediately suspected Nick, but a quick glance down revealed his legs were not moving. When she looked up, Lanceford caught her eye and gave her a slippery smile.

Julia narrowed her gaze to let him know exactly what she thought of his advances. Instead of retreating, however, Lanceford daringly moved his foot even higher up her calf. So Julia did the first thing that came to mind: She kicked his stationary leg as hard as she could.

“Ooph!” Lanceford grunted and jerked his feet back to his side of the table.

Everyone stopped. “Apologies,” the ambassador muttered. “Old injury acting up.”

Nick’s face darkened, his attention now riveted on Lanceford. Figured her husband would know what Lanceford had been up to. He’d probably played the same flirtatious game himself many times over, the cad. Though right now, Nick looked so angry, there was no telling what he might do. Julia put a hand on his arm and gave him a small shake of her head to let him know she’d handled Lanceford.

“Mrs. Leighton,” Veronica began in a thick Venetian accent, “have you made the friendship with Sarah Siddons? I hear many stories of her talent on the stage.”

Julia coughed to cover a gasp. If she, a duchess, associated with an actress—even the famously talented Mrs. Siddons—a horrific scandal would result. But she reminded herself that Juliet Leighton was not a duchess. She sipped her coffee and decided to answer diplomatically. “While we are not friends, I have seen her perform many times. She is truly talented.”

“I hear she’s retired,” another woman at the table commented.

“Yes, that’s true, though she’s retired many times,” Julia answered, and pushed the dratted wayward lock of hair out of her eye once more. “I attended her last farewell performance, and even from the seat in my box I could see not a dry eye in the house.”

“Have you a box at Covent Garden?” Nick asked.

Yes, yours,
she wanted to reply. “Indeed, Your Grace. How else is one to see and be seen in London?”

“Mrs. Leighton is quite the actress in her own right. I daresay I’ve hardly seen better,” Simon drawled. Even from down the table, she could see the devilish intent in her friend’s blue eyes.

“Is this true?” Veronica leaned forward. “You must tell me what parts you play.”

Julia was momentarily surprised, and before she could make light of Simon’s words, he answered for her. “I particularly enjoyed you in Molière’s
School for Wives.
”

She nearly dropped her china cup. Of course Simon would take the opportunity to poke at her lessons with Pearl. If he were closer, she would have kicked him, too. “Really? How sweet of you, my lord. Although I much preferred my role in his later play,
The Learned Ladies.
”

Simon let out a sharp burst of laughter. Everyone else in the group appeared puzzled, so Julia smoothed over it nicely by turning back to Veronica. “And what parts have you enjoyed, Miss DiSano?”

Veronica began a long-winded explanation of her short acting career, and Julia used the opportunity to shoot a glare in Simon’s direction and discreetly tip her chin toward the door. She’d had enough tonight. Between her bedraggled coiffure, Simon’s barbs, Lanceford’s foot, and Nick’s powerful presence, her energies were drained. Simon gave her a slight nod in return, and they both stood.