The Accidental Courtesan

Instant awareness zipped through his body like a fox sensing a hare hiding under a nearby bush. His gaze moved from face to face as he searched for his seductive visitor in the swirl of party guests. She was here! He knew it as well as he knew his own name. Never once before had he smelled that combination of scents in the sea of lilac and lavender most women favored.

He might not clearly remember her face, but her scent was permanently etched in his mind. He’d not rest until he found her, even if he had to sniff dozens of necks. A slow grin spread over Gavin’s face. What a stir that would cause among the esteemed guests. He suspected he’d spend the rest of the evening fending off dueling challenges from irate husbands and fathers.

Gavin moved slowly through the crowd, his head turning this way and that. Nothing could distract him from his mission.

He was following her fleeting scent, as difficult as looking for a hairpin in a field of hay. But the little courtesan-thief was near. She’d not get away this time.

It was nearly a half hour before he spotted a woman in pale cream, her flaxen hair upswept to show the perfect curve of her graceful neck. Her eyes shone as she turned slightly and smiled at some witticism spoken by her companion. Gavin’s eyes locked onto the side of her face.

There was something familiar in her fine features. With his eyes he followed her neck downward to her trim back, then to a perfect, graceful rump.

If this wasn’t his elusive courtesan, she was a nearly perfect replica from behind. The only way to know for certain was to cup her buttocks in his hands. He grinned. He had to wonder about the severity of the pummeling he’d receive from her companion if he tried.

The woman was in conversation with a tall man in blue who smiled down at her with affection. The two seemed intimately acquainted as she brushed something off the man’s sleeve.

Gavin scowled. If the man was her lover, it was a complication he didn’t need. If there was an arrangement between the pair, it could be difficult untangling the relationship. With her beauty, she wasn’t the sort of woman a man would give up easily.

There were bits of memories coming together, a piece at a time. Gavin gnashed his teeth. Though he couldn’t recall everything about last night, he saw enough in the curve of her tiny, delightful ears, and the way she tilted her head slightly when listening to her companion, to gain confidence. He was certain his would-be courtesan tipped her head in just that way. It would take a closer look to confirm his suspicion.

Eyes narrowed, he began taking a straight path across the space between them. Not wanting to alert her to his presence, he kept the crowd between them until she was steps away, then veered off to circle her and her companion.

The blur of moving bodies faded as he saw more of her: her bright smile, her husky laugh, and a closer view of her sparkling eyes. She was stunning—and clearly not a courtesan. She was a Lady from head to toe. He didn’t need an introduction to see how well she fit in at this party.

Still, it didn’t mean she was nobility. Many courtesans could blend quite well into society, as some came from impoverished, albeit well-placed, families.

Desperation drew many to that life. Others saw it as a place of power in a man’s world. Either way, this woman was no common doxie.

Gavin watched her place a gloved hand on her companion’s arm a second time, and felt a rush of annoyance pass through him. He wanted to jerk her hand away and drag her from the room. He wanted her touch; he wanted to press his face into her hair to confirm her identity through her scent. To see the intimacy between the pair only succeeded in raising his frustration.

“You must excuse me, Simon,” she said, leaning in. Her lilting voice carried through the din. It was filled with good humor. “I must find Brenna.”

Simon? Gavin blinked as she walked away. Given names were seldom used in society. His curiosity rose tenfold as he shook off his musings, locked onto her swinging hips, and headed off in her wake. If she truly was his mysterious would-be courtesan, he intended to get close enough to find out.

Noelle spotted Brenna, clad in dark green satin. Her cousin was deep in conversation with an animated elderly woman who tapped her cane frequently when speaking, as if to prove a point. She decided not to interrupt. She needed a moment alone to collect herself. To find a place out of the crush of bodies in which to breathe in some perfume-free air.

The evening was warm and the ballroom was stifling. A sheen of perspiration dampened the skin beneath her dress and caused the fabric to itch against her skin. Finding a cool spot to clear her head wouldn’t be too difficult, if she headed for one of the three sets of double doors that led outside.

Of the three, the set farthest to the right appeared to overlook the darkest part of the terrace. She could slip away for a moment of welcome respite.

Then a flash of gray caught her attention as someone stepped into her line of vision. Not twenty feet away, blocking the doorway and clad in a dark gray coat, striped waistcoat, and white breeches, was the earl.

She gasped, and her feet faltered. His gaze locked onto hers. There was something in his eyes that gave her a clear indication he wasn’t just admiring an attractive woman. No, he seemed to recognize her!

It was impossible he could recognize her! They’d spent perhaps ten minutes together with only a small fire to light the room. And he’d been thoroughly foxed.

It took every bit of the training she’d received since birth not to react to his appearance, in spite of the warmth flooding across her skin with the memory of his kisses. She lifted her nose and turned away as if they were strangers.

Several matrons walked past, and she ducked behind them like a coward. A set of doors opened to a hallway on her right. Noelle hoped it led to a hiding place.

The matrons stopped near the doors, and she slipped into the dim light of the hallway. A quick glance behind her confirmed that she’d lost him in the crowd. Relief flooded her mind as she stumbled into the nearest darkened room. With unsteady steps, she followed the trail of moonlight seeping through the drapes to a private corner of the room, behind a large potted plant.

So close. She let her mind drift to the moment she’d caught his eye. Had he been looking at her only out of curiosity, or had he actually thought he knew her?

He’d barely been able to stand last night. Likely the man thought her just a dream. Still, he was watching her as if he knew her, as if he wanted her. As if he wouldn’t rest until he kissed her again.

Noelle groaned. It had been a mistake to attend this party. She should have allowed the full Season to pass before venturing out again. By then he’d have forgotten all about her.

Her shoulders slumped. Why couldn’t she forget him? Why did her mind have to remember his perfect jaw, his blue eyes, and that muscled chest so warm beneath her exploring hands?

A whisper of heat brushed her ear. “I have decided to take you up on your offer, sweet.”

Noelle shrieked and spun around, landing awkwardly against the intruder’s chest. She lifted her gloved hands to ward him off. Her fingertips ended up splayed over firm and familiar muscle beneath his open coat and waistcoat. The earl stared down at her with the same intensity that he possessed in his bedroom. As if she were a meal to be feasted upon.

“Sir, please. Stand back!” Her outrage was genuine. He had no right to accost her in such an intimate fashion. If only she’d not been woolgathering and had heard his approach, the window would’ve been an avenue of escape.

He leaned back slightly and raked his gaze over her face. Her breath came out in little explosive bursts. He was too close, too all-consuming, to the point that she was certain she’d lose the capacity to breathe at all. She smelled his exotic, spicy scent, felt his warmth. Everything about him was burned, unwelcome, in her mind.

It was he who spoke first. He leaned down as if to take her into his confidence, with his cheek pressed lightly against her temple. “I do apologize, love. I thought after the intimacies we shared, a few whispered words in your delightful ear would be most welcome.” He lifted his head to stare at her mouth.

He did remember her! She wanted to cry. She’d be ruined if he decided to make their association public! All she could do now was deny, deny, deny, and hope she could convince him he’d made an egregious mistake.

“Intimacies?” She struggled to find a measure of calm. Difficult to do when her throat closed off and her heart pulsed so hard she was certain it would stop beating altogether.

“I do not know you, sir,” she protested. She was certain he could hear her lies, the guilt in her voice. The press of his body and his wicked grin caused torturous feelings to overtake her body. She was aware of him with a painful ache that she knew wouldn’t subside until his hands were on her again. “W-we have never met.”

He cocked up a brow and flashed a row of perfect white teeth. “Indeed? I remember the night well. Shall I tell you, moment by moment, every detail I remember?”

Deep down she knew she should push him away, but she was pinned between his body and his arms, his hands flattened on the wall behind her. His hint of scent was brutally and sensuously male. It took sheer will not to press her face against his corded neck.

“I f-fear you have m-mistaken me for another, sir.” She forced herself to remain stoic, regardless of his breach of propriety. Any reaction would confirm his assumptions. “I demand you step back, now, before I call for my cousin to eject you from the house.”

He gave a low chuckle. Mirth lit up his beautiful eyes, and she bit back a groan. Laws should be passed to keep such a man from being allowed to move freely through the female populace. Looking down, he ran a hand along her arm and closed it over her wrist. She nearly toppled over.

“Mistaken? Perhaps I thought so once, before I stepped close and smelled your delicious skin.” He lifted her hand to brush his lips over her knuckles. He smiled into her eyes while she gaped like a trout. “You have a distinctive scent, my dear courtesan. There is no mistake.”

Before she could collect her thoughts and issue a sharp retort, he released her hand, pulled her against him, and closed his mouth over hers!

Noelle faltered against him as he stole her breath with his searching lips. Besieged with confusing emotions, she gripped his coat to keep upright as his tongue plunged deeply into her willing mouth.

The image of his wife and children rose unbidden to quell her passionate response. She tore her mouth free.

“You are a married man, My Lord.” Hard bands of sinew bunched in his arms as she tried to break his hold. He refused to give her any freedom. “I will not be your plaything.”

He lifted his head and his eyes narrowed. “I think you are mistaken, mistress.” He shrugged, confused. “I have no wife.”

“We both know that is a lie,” she snapped. At least he could have the decency to be honest. It wasn’t as if marriage stopped men of wealth from taking lovers. “You not only have a lady wife but children as well. You would do well to turn your affections toward your family and leave me be.”

At that moment a couple strolled past the open door to the shadowy hallway. Noelle took the opportunity to free herself with a shove. His hands dropped away. She lifted the hem of her gown and raced to the door, quickly peered out to assure herself she wouldn’t be observed, and then hurried toward the ballroom at a rapid clip.

Just outside the ballroom doors, she pressed her hand to her heart and counted to ten. Once she was certain panic had been removed from her face, she walked inside with the air of a queen. She couldn’t let the earl know how troubled she felt. She must continue to deny their acquaintance. If she fled now, it would further confirm his suspicion.

In the moment she’d pushed free of him, she was almost certain she’d seen a slight, lingering doubt in his eyes. Though he’d accosted her, he wasn’t completely ready to call her out as the erstwhile would-be courtesan. And if he didn’t actually know the truth, then all his behavior over the last few minutes confirmed he was a woman-accosting cad.

Forced gaiety kept her from hysteria for the next two hours as she stayed close to her cousins, never giving the earl a chance to approach her. It was nearing midnight when she walked through the dining hall with Brenna and spotted him leaning against a wall, talking to a group of men.

Her composure slipped, a condition that afflicted her every time she saw his face. She gripped Brenna’s arm and pulled her into a private alcove before he spotted her.

Facing her puzzled cousin, she took Brenna’s arms and whispered conspiratorially, “The Earl of Seabrook. What can you tell me about him?”

Brenna shot her an odd look, then peeked around the alcove wall. She scanned the room for a moment, then turned slowly back to Noelle. A crease appeared between her brows.

“The man you spoke of earlier? The one who has accosted you is the Earl of Seabrook?” Brenna took a second glance. “I don’t see him.”

Noelle poked her head out and saw the earl in conversation with an ancient gentleman in blue. Thankfully, her unwelcome would-be lover didn’t seem aware of their scrutiny. It gave her a moment to glare daggers in his direction. “He is right over there,” she hissed, and pointed.

Noelle scowled. Did Brenna need spectacles? “In the gray coat. Leaning against the wall.”

Her cousin smiled and shook her head. “That man is not the earl. He’s the American import everyone has been twittering about. He’s the earl’s English-American cousin, Mister Blackwell, and he is said to be more American than English. He owns a shipyard and, from what I hear, is very wealthy.”

“There must be a mistake,” she protested. Then the suspicions she’d had about him since their first meeting all made sense: the odd accent, his sun-kissed skin. All the questions that had formed in her head finally came together with a clear explanation. And he’d known of her confusion the first time she called him “Your Lordship.” The cad had failed to correct her even once, knowing she’d mistaken him for the earl.

“He is the man who has taken liberties?” Brenna pressed a gloved knuckle to her mouth in a shaky attempt to hide her smile. It failed miserably. “He is very handsome. I wouldn’t mind him taking liberties with me.”

It was all Noelle could do not to remove her shoe and launch it at his head. The man was a cad, a rapscallion. He took advantage of her misunderstanding to press his attentions on her, knowing she thought him a titled lord. “He led me to believe he was the earl.”

“Well, he is in line to inherit the title, after Seabrook and his two sons,” Brenna said as she took another peek at the exasperating American. “If you don’t want him, I’ll let you introduce us.” She turned to examine Noelle’s face. “By the flush on your cheeks and seeing how upset you are, I would guess you are more acquainted than you’ve let on to me. How is that, by the by?”

“We have never been introduced,” Noelle said sharply. Clearly, introductions were not required before he moved on to kissing and fondling strange women. “We’ve bumped into each other twice, and I find him completely without manners.”

After a moment of silence, Brenna giggled and took Noelle’s hands. “Deny it all you will, but I think, my dear cousin, you are smitten with the seductive American. He has finally broken through my reserved Noelle and melted some of the ice around your heart.”

“I am not smitten. And my heart is not icy.” The protest came too fast, and Brenna snickered. Noelle grimaced. If she couldn’t convince Brenna of her distaste, how could she convince herself? “He is without a single positive attribute to redeem him. He is coarse, crude, and without merit. I have seen feral cats with more charm.”

“I’m crushed, ladies.” A deep, laughing voice startled both women as the American stepped around the wall and into view. “I am usually considered quite charming.”

Noelle’s face burned as Brenna coughed lightly into her hand. From the light in his eyes, Noelle knew he found humor in her embarrassment. He’d been eavesdropping. It was another reason to keep him at arm’s length and practice avoidance. His sins grew with each encounter.

Everyone knew Americans lived like savages. As his recent behavior proved, he was a perfect example of that theory. With a second chance to poke around his room, she’d likely find a deerskin breechcloth among his things. She knew from books that colonists wore animal hides as a matter of course, and the women indulged in snuff. They were a wild lot and best viewed from a distance.

Her flush deepened. The image of him nearly naked, thighs exposed, bare-chested, wearing only a scrap of cloth to hide his manhood, made her weak-kneed. It was Brenna’s unladylike throat clearing that roused her from the beginning of a very hot daydream.

“I’m Gavin Blackwell,” he said, and reached for Brenna’s hand. He pressed a kiss on her gloved knuckles. The lovely brunette smiled prettily. “And you are?”

“Miss Brenna Harrington.” She recovered quickly and reached out to pull Noelle to her side. Her tight grip kept Noelle from fleeing. “This is my cousin, Noelle Harrington, Lady Seymour.”

Gavin released Brenna’s hand and took Noelle’s before she could jerk it out of reach. He lowered his mouth to her fingers, never unlocking his gaze from hers. Thankfully, her gloves kept him from contact with her skin.

Noelle fell into the vortex of his blue eyes. As he pressed his lips to her gloved knuckles, she felt a tingle spread up her arm. His warm gaze promised her much more than a casual press of his lips on her hand.

Beneath his attention, she felt bare, exposed. She knew he was recalling every second of their embraces, their kisses, with the same hunger she felt within herself. She wanted to slip into his arms and press her mouth to his, to feel his muscles beneath her hands, to see what other scandalous things he could teach her. And the light in his eyes told her that he was thinking of something else, too. Perhaps silently cursing Brenna’s presence?

Noelle yanked her hand free, tripped over her gown’s hem, and wobbled slightly. Only embarrassment kept her upright.

A flash of a smile lit his face. He nodded to Brenna, then turned back to Noelle. “If you will excuse me, ladies, my coach is waiting.”

Noelle’s knees quivered. She stumbled to the nearest bench and dropped gracelessly onto it. Brenna joined her on the smooth marble surface and took her hand.

“That man wants you desperately and won’t stop until he has you,” Brenna said simply, and squeezed Noelle’s fingertips. “You are in serious trouble.”

Noelle looked helplessly at her cousin as her body shook under the strain of the stunning encounter. “Yes, I am.”