The Accidental Courtesan (19 page)

“Not by choice, I assure you.” Gavin snorted. “My cousin's bookkeeper was matched last year and is blissfully happy. Or so I hear. Charles thought I needed to be shackled myself and arranged the matter without my consent. Sketch included. And since I am in no danger of inheriting the title, he deemed a former courtesan as good as any other woman to become my wife.”

“You don't sound enthusiastic at the prospect.” The grim line of his mouth was a clear indication of his displeasure.

“I have nothing against courtesans.” He turned back to her. “I just have no desire to wed one. If I were inclined to shackle myself to a bride, which I am not, it would have to be to a woman of impeccable reputation.” He watched her expression. “As a gentleman, I do have a bloodline to preserve.”

Noelle tried to hide her dismay. Oddly, she'd attended the party he spoke of. It was the day Harold proposed to Margaret and Nicholas proposed to Eva. How close she'd come to crossing paths with Gavin then.

“I shall see that your picture and biography are removed at once. The men in her book must be actively seeking wives.”

His mouth quirked, and his eyes dipped to her bodice, where the slightest curve of pale flesh was pressed up to view. “I'd appreciate your assistance in the matter, My Lady. I am most certainly not looking for a wife.”

A hot blush slipped down her body. Wifely was not how she'd behaved last evening. She'd been bold and scandalous. Clearly, by the look in his eyes, he'd gotten over his reluctance to face the situation head-on. He was staring at her as if he meant to gobble her up, and it was only the close proximity to the house, and Thomas, that cooled his ardor. She took some feminine satisfaction in knowing he still found her attractive.

Had they been alone, Noelle was certain there would have been a repeat of last evening. She gulped. Her core pulsed, and she regretted the lack of privacy.

Why did he have to affect her so?

His chuckle spilled over her. “You needn't worry I will accost you behind the hedge, my dear Lady Noelle.” He took her arm and tucked it under his. “Should you decide to repeat your delightful actions of last night, I assure you we shall not be rolling about in the dirt.”

Her face burned. It wouldn't do to have him think she was so overcome by his manliness that she couldn't control herself. His arrogance was already at too high a level. She forced her chin up and her eyes to hold steady.

“I fear I may have acted inappropriately, sir. I was merely playing a part, and it went too far. It will not happen again.”

One brow cocked up. “Truly?” His handsome face above a high white stock was filled with what she could only guess was . . . regret? “I was hoping to share with you many, many more of the delights I have learned during my travels.” He shook his head. “I shall have to live with my disappointment.”

Delights? He was far too confident of his skills and her response to him. “I am convinced there are many women in London who would be pleased to be the recipient of your teachings. Our dealings will be businesslike from this moment forward.”

 

G
avin watched as Noelle walked off, her back stiff and her demeanor stiffer. His teasing had gotten under her skin and prickled her to ill humor. He'd planned to treat her respectfully and as if he'd forgotten her passionate hour in his arms. It took but one look at her, and he knew he could never, ever again treat her with casual indifference.

A grin broke wide across his face. Even now, he longed for a private moment to see if he could draw out the passionate lady he'd discovered in the coach. He'd never known a woman so uninhibited, so untamed. She'd cast off her veil of propriety and sought—no, demanded—her pleasure as if it was her right. And he'd willingly given it to her, as if it was his right.

His smile wavered. So caught up with the game, he'd almost forgotten she wasn't a courtesan and never would be. This school belonged to a friend. Noelle's bloodline likely went back as far as the first man who'd stumbled onto these fair shores wearing nothing but a bearskin robe.

If only she'd been born on the other side of the blanket, he could seduce and cherish her as a lover. Then the heavy weight of societal rules wouldn't bear down on his sensual thoughts as if he had no right to think them.

The best thing that could happen was to flush out the conspiracy behind the necklace as quickly as possible and return to what he did best: building ships and avoiding emotional entanglements.

The first would prove easier than the second, he thought, as he followed the path toward the town house. There were already enough entanglements between them to last for years. And Noelle wasn't the kind of woman easily forgotten. She'd hooked him in the gut, and he'd need more than the butchering of a surgeon to get the steel barb out.

B
liss proved to be no help at all. Gavin cajoled, outwitted, and occasionally battered her with his forceful glare, yet she had no new information to offer. It was like she was only a casual observer in her own life. If he wanted to know her favorite frock or all about Charles and his proclivities in bed, he suspected that she could expound for hours on both matters. But ask her what she knew about the woman who had lived in her house for months, and she could hardly remember what the mysterious maid looked like.

“Other than dark hair, you have nothing?” He wanted to take her by the shoulders and give her a shake. “No moles, no scars, no limp? Anything that might help identify her?”

“She was a servant,” Bliss whimpered. “She fixed my hair and dressed me. What else was I supposed to notice about her?”

Gavin looked at Noelle, and she felt the weight of his frustration. He turned back to Bliss and pressed her with several more questions.

Finally, when the girl was near tears, he motioned for Noelle to follow him into the hallway.

“I think Bliss
is
innocent,” he grumbled. He raked his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. “The chit would have difficulty deciding which pastry to eat with her tea. I cannot see her leading a ring of thieves.”

Noelle agreed. “I told you as much. I've spent enough time with her to discover quickly that she is incapable of such complicated deceit. She simply became entangled in this affair and saw Eva as a way out. When I informed her Eva was away, she crumbled. When she dropped at my feet on the stoop, sobbing and clawing at my skirts, I couldn't refuse to help.”

Gavin's mouth thinned. “I think your first hunch was correct. Her maid is the key. I have an investigator searching for her now.” His shoulders slumped and he leaned against the wall. “It's easy to see what Charles found attractive in her. She is a fetching chit, if one has no desire for intelligent conversation. If only she'd been wise enough to see she was being manipulated and put a stop to the matter before it went too far.”

“Many mistakes have been made from the start,” Noelle said. “Bliss's theft and failure to return the necklace immediately to the earl, before he'd left her town house, started the downward tumble. Looking back, my ill-conceived plan to return the necklace might have been better accomplished if I had sent the necklace anonymously, by courier.”

Gavin grunted. “The fact that Seabrook had possessed the audacity to slip Bliss into his own home, the same home he occasionally shared with his wife and children, made you confident that Bliss had information about the floor plan to make returning the necklace in person possible. Outside of the address, Bliss clearly hadn't gotten much else about the property right.”

“True,” Noelle replied. Mistakes aside, the earl now possessed the necklace, and though he'd likely suspect Bliss, there'd be no proof she had a hand in the theft. Gavin promised to keep the matter between them. For now. “Still, I could have planned better. I have always been impulsive.”

He shot her a funny look, and she smiled. “I guess that comes as no surprise to you, Mister Blackwell.”

Reaching out a finger, he touched her under the chin. “It is one of the things about you I find most compelling.”

Noelle couldn't regret all aspects of the situation. If she hadn't stumbled into Gavin with the stolen necklace hidden in her pocket, she might never have met him. She'd gone halfway through the Season without once catching sight of him.

“What is our next step?” she asked.

Gavin scratched his fingertips over his chin. “I shall check back with Mister Crawford, the investigator, and see what he's learned about the missing maid.”

“I know Mister Crawford. He is very competent.”

“He is,” Gavin agreed. “If we discover no new information before Saturday, we will attend the ball.”

“And use yourself as bait.” Noelle saw him stiffen. “The footpads know who you are. That's why I instructed Thomas to use care when bringing you here.” She paused. “They likely follow you everywhere. The ball is in a public place. It will be safer for you, for both of us, if they confront you there.”

“Charles has the necklace,” Gavin protested. “They should be chasing him.”

“Unfortunately, the footpads think you have it. They probably assume Bliss gave it back.” Noelle shrugged. “You said they weren't bright. I suspect they've mixed up you and your cousin. You do look a bit alike, and you live in his town house. With His Lordship in Bath, you are their focus.”

Gavin shook his head. “They did call me ‘Your Lordship' while pounding my face.” He touched his bruised lip and darted a glance at Bliss. “I should give Charles a beating for getting me involved in this. He never has thought with his head around women.”

Noelle ignored the salacious insinuation. “Having me with you at the ball will help cover our trap. They will not suspect you are drawing them out if you are with your new lover. That is why I must learn my part.”

From his expression, Noelle knew he hated the idea of putting her in harm's way. If she hadn't pushed him to allow her a part in the investigation, she would be home now, walking grooves in the parquet floors and resenting that he was digging up clues without her.

She wanted to run her fingertips along the jerking muscle, and some kisses, too; anything to soothe the tension on his face.

“Sophie has mentioned that three courtesans are expected to arrive today,” she said, mentally shaking herself free of her musing. “I shall return home, get into costume, and join them at the meeting place. They will not suspect another courtesan joining their group. Perhaps there is some gossip I can glean from the women.” She smirked. “We women do love to share news. By the night of the ball, I will be a perfect courtesan.”

Gavin's tension finally faded, and a smile emerged as he stepped close. He leaned in and said, “If you learn anything of, shall we say, an intimate matter, I'd be happy to discuss any questions you may have. Perhaps I may start a school of my own. What can innocent young society wives learn from courtesans to keep their husbands home and in their own beds?”

Noelle choked mid-swallow. Gavin thumped her gently on the back, chuckling as he did so.

“You are a libertine, Mister Blackwell.” Glowering, she peered at him through watery eyes. “Have you no morals, no sense of propriety?”

His mouth lowered dangerously close to hers. “If I did, I don't think you'd find me quite so appealing.”

The man was maddening! “You assume much, sir. Perhaps I find little about you appealing. You cannot read my thoughts. A few moments of madness does not make me yearn for you with the intensity of a thousand suns.”

“Who said anything about yearning?” He smirked and drew a hand down her arm. “I think you find me every bit as fascinating as I do you. One day, when we have time to explore your, ah, yearnings to their fullest, I will be a very happy man.”

“I do not yearn for you,” she snapped. The man was too confident and enjoyed knowing his seductive power over her. He needed to brought down a peg. “I am not your courtesan. We have no arrangement. I am playing a part to gain information, nothing more.” She turned and headed through the house with her boots
clack-clacking
as she went. She didn't look behind her but assumed he had to walk at a brisk clip to keep up.

Though he held his tongue, she felt his humor, and it rankled. She led him through the garden to the gate where the coach stood just outside. Thomas pushed off the side of the coach and waited patiently at the door. There was a rumor he'd been in the army with Harold. It certainly explained his ramrod-stiff way of standing. And his serious demeanor.

“The servants are the ones who seem to know every scandal before it happens. Perhaps disguising yourself as a maid would be a more fitting avenue to overhear gossip.”