The Courtesan's Daughter (19 page)

“You do know,” Cal said, shoving along behind him, nodding politely to the mamas on the wall, their unmarried chicks clustered close and smiling breathlessly in his direction, “that since she’s made her decision to become a courtesan that any man who can meet her price will be the man who—”

“Yes, right,” Ashdon interrupted. He didn’t believe it, that was all. He didn’t believe that Caro, no matter what she said, wanted to be a courtesan. Or rather, that she wanted to be a courtesan with anyone but him. There was something about the way she lit up when he looked at her, at how she melted into his kiss, that told another tale.

Of course, it was entirely possible that a skilled courtesan could make any man feel that he was
the
man. But it was also true that Caro was not a skilled courtesan. She was not a skilled anything, unless baiting him mercilessly was a skill.

“You want her, don’t you?” Cal asked.

“That’s rather obvious, isn’t it?”

“Why do you want her?”

“Again,” Ash bit out, “obvious.”

Calbourne nodded and mumbled something into the folds of his pristine cravat.

“Speak up, Cal,” Ash said. “Where
has
Dutton gone? Do you see him?”

“Just into the yellow drawing room, I believe. Actually, there’s something of an uproar happening in there. Do you hear it?”

Cal, the tallest man in any gathering, always had the advantage of perspective.

“Yes, I believe so,” Ashdon said. They’d lost sight of Dutton as he entered that room and now there was a bubble of noise drifting toward them. The combination of the two occurrences did not produce a feeling of contentment. Far from it.

“Ashdon,” Calbourne said, “you are certain you want her? No matter the path, no matter the outcome?”

“’Tis not as serious as all that, Cal,” Ashdon said. “I shan’t need to slay any dragons for her, surely. She is a woman, a woman with a price.”

His gut twisted a bit as he said it, but what of that?

“A woman with a price,” Cal said softly, “and according to the gossip coming out of the yellow drawing room, a woman whose price has been met.”

“Damn Dutton for his blasted interference!”

“No, Ash, not by Dutton,” Cal said. “By Blakesley.”

 
“THIS can’t be happening,” Louisa Kirkland said, her chilled lips barely moving. “What has Blakesley got to do with her?”

“A pearl necklace to start,” Lady Amelia Caversham whispered, staring at the spectacle of Caroline Trevelyan wearing Blakesley’s gift of pearls. When Louisa stared in fury at her cousin, Amelia added, “Well, you can’t have expected him to trail after you forever, Louisa, especially as you were chasing after Lord Dutton with his full knowledge. And speaking of Lord Dutton, here he comes … and there he goes.”

Lord Dutton, looking rather more handsome than usual and certainly more determined, pushed his way through the increasingly crowded drawing room, for who could blame the entire assemblie for wanting to witness Lady Caroline’s fall from grace with the most famous cynic among them, to join Blakesley and Caroline. Blakesley looked less than amused by the intervention of a third party. Caroline looked only slightly surprised and very much delighted.

It really was very hard to like a girl who attracted so much male attention.

“Let’s get closer,” Louisa hissed, dragging Amelia behind her through the throng.

“We don’t seem to be alone in that wish,” Amelia mumbled.

In truth, the entire room seemed to have shifted in the general direction of the far wall. It would have served Caroline Trevelyan right to look like a trapped hare faced with all that concentrated attention. Unfortunately, Caroline had the irritating quality of looking exotically beautiful no matter the occasion. Louisa had really never known a girl who was so difficult to warm to.

“What’s he saying?” Louisa said, pushing past Lady Dalrymple, who stumbled against Lord Tayborn, who caught her clumsily. They were both past fifty. Lack of grace in movement was to be expected.

“I can’t see them, let alone hear them.”

“Oh, I can see them, just,” Louisa said, sliding between the Lords Clybane and Darington. Lord Darington may have brushed his hand against her right hip, the lecherous fop.

It was when she was making sure that Lord Darington had his hands properly at his sides that Louisa heard Amelia gasp.

“What?”

“He’s given her pearls!” Amelia said.

“I
know
that,” Louisa said. “The whole room knows that.”

“Not Blakesley,” Amelia said, yanking on Louisa’s hand so that she stumbled against a particularly knobby chair; Louisa felt her stocking rip. “Dutton!”

Louisa used her very pretty fan to force her way through the crush and to almost the very feet of Lord Dutton, Lord Henry, and Lady Caroline. What she saw was beyond belief.

There Caroline stood, her black hair piled high and her white bodice cut low, with
two
strands of pearls around her throat. It didn’t seem possible for things to get any worse. Here were the two men she spent the most time with, one unwillingly, but still it was intolerable that Caroline should snag them both.

Louisa had a healthy interest in Lord Dutton; she could admit that. In fact, she wasn’t the only woman in town to find the beautiful and elusive Lord Dutton fascinating. Which only made her friendship with Henry Blakesley more vital. Who else knew where Lord Dutton was likely to be? Who else could advise her? Who else could lift her flagging spirits when Lord Dutton ignored her very existence at yet another dinner or ball or assemblie? Why, none other than Lord Henry, ever faithful, ever reliable.

A reliable cad, that’s what they both were, to run to Lady Caroline and pour pearls upon her, just because the silly chit had voiced an appreciation for pearls! And let none be fooled; there was no one in the room who was such an innocent as to believe that Lady Caroline would come out of this pearl arrangement with anything left to her but pearls. Her reputation was shattered. She’d never again be welcomed anywhere that anyone of taste and breeding would care to be welcomed.

Actually, it might be a good thing to let Caroline have her moment, as it was surely to be the last moment she ever had in Society.

Louisa had almost completely talked herself into a calm and rational deportment when she looked again at the pearls that Dutton had given Caroline. Rationality deserted her with a thud.

“Those are
my
pearls!” Louisa said. It was her misfortune that everyone in the room heard her. Including Lord Ashdon.

“WHAT’S she done now?” Ashdon said as he and Calbourne pushed their way into the drawing room.

“She’s got herself two strands of pearls, that’s what she’s done,” Cal said. “She’s lovely, I’ll admit, but are you certain you want a woman who attracts so much—”

“Competition? ”

“I was going to say ‘attention.’ Though, now that you mention it, competition does seem right on the mark.”

“I’m going to kill her,” Ash said under his breath.

Cal nodded. “Understandable. But, given all the trouble she’s caused you, I’d take my pleasure of her first. You might as well get your money’s worth.”

“I don’t think she can give pleasure. All she can do is cause trouble. And give me a blistering headache.”

“Yes, women are rather good at that. One wonders where they learn it. From what I can tell, they’re nice enough as children. Must be something about the budding of breasts, must turn some nasty part of them on. Pity it can’t be turned off.”

“Cal,” Ashdon said, “I appreciate that you’ve obviously put a lot of thought into the physiology of women, but I have more pressing concerns at the moment.”

“Right,” Cal said, nodding again. “Like how to get away with murder.”

“Exactly,” Ash said solemnly. “And how to lay my hands on a pearl necklace in the next ten seconds or so.”

“I can help you there,” Cal said. “I happen to have ignored just about everything you’ve said as it pertains to Lady Caroline. Everything except your determination to have her and your need for pearls to accomplish the deed. I have brought you pearls, Ash. Now, take them, and debauch the lady nicely.”

Ashdon stared into Cal’s eyes. “You don’t want to be involved in this, Cal, you know you don’t. I
will
debauch her, ruining her beyond all aid. How will you live with that? ”

“Ash,” Cal said softly, “how will you? This will eat at you every day until you are eaten through.”

“I have no choice, Calbourne,” Ashdon said stiffly.

“Of course you do. Take this girl, this girl you want so much, and marry her. It’s what a man does when he wants a woman and the woman is suitable.”

“Hardly suitable,” Ashdon grumbled. “She accepts pearls like other women accept water.”

“Then give her pearls, but make her yours. Ignore Westlin. Listen to your heart.”

“I cannot ignore Westlin. I also cannot ignore her,” Ashdon said. “These were your wife’s pearls, were they not?”

“Given in good cause. Take them. I have no need of pearls this night, nor any other.”

“I’ll take them,” Ashdon said, “because I must. The lady demands pearls. I demand the lady.” Ashdon shrugged, his blue-eyed gaze as sharp as Venetian glass. “I will repay you.”

“I know you will. Now, go and claim your prize before Dutton flies off with her.”

Ashdon needed no encouragement. He slid through the drawing room as easily as a snake, the crowd making way for him almost magically. It was not magic. It was merely the ton letting the key player in this little drama attain his place upon the stage for the next scene. The scene in which Lord Ashdon presents the demanded pearls to the Lady Caroline, a lady who suddenly was awash in pearls.

That would change, immediately.

“Hello, Ashdon,” Dutton said. “What brings you to this corner of the room?”

“Lady Caroline,” Ashdon said in greeting, bowing stiffly in her direction. Caro curtseyed as much as her limited space would allow. Blakesley and Dutton had her hemmed about most tidily. That would change as well.

“Oh,” Dutton said, “you must have pearls to join this party, Lord Ashdon. Have you any?”

“Pearls are the price, are they?” Ashdon said, staring at Caro. She had the good manners to blush. “How fortunate that I have come prepared. You wanted pearls, Lady Caroline?” he said, opening up his palm in front of her. “I have brought you pearls.” The necklace lay in glimmering softness against his palm, overflowing it, spilling out in luminous globes of creamy white. They were extraordinary pearls, now that he looked at them.

“Thank you, Lord Ashdon,” she said, her gaze locked onto his, her dark eyes unreadable and mysterious.

“Put them on,” he commanded.

The room had stilled, watching this exchange play out. It was extraordinary, really, to see a lady of the realm sell herself in the public view. It was like watching a slave being tangled in chains, chains of pearls.

Caro took the pearls he held out to her and placed them over her head. They fell in a heavy line to her breasts, lost within the dark valley of her cleavage. Her head came up, her eyes smoldering and smoky, her gaze trapped in his. She remembered. He would see her, touch her,
have
her to the length of his pearls.

God bless Calbourne’s wife for the length of her pearls.

“A most extravagant length,” Blakesley said with a suppressed grin. “Mine can hardly compare.”

“It is not the length, it is the quality,” Dutton said. “One must never judge by size alone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Ashdon said, his eyes firmly fastened on Caro. She looked a goddess, Venus, certainly. She would never pass for Athena. “You have my pearls,” Ashdon said to Caro. “Take the others off.”

“Why should she?” Blakesley said. “I precipitated you, Ashdon, certainly that must count. First come, first served.”

Caro flushed again and looked down at her feet; she began to sidle away from them, skirting the back wall and making for the Hyde dressing room, the next room on the assemblie circuit. The crowds let her move, as long as they could move with her, which they did.

“You have no part in this, Blakesley,” Ashdon said. “This arrangement was between Lady Caroline and myself, none other. You have stepped where you have no right.”

“But wasn’t the whole idea that my pearls bought me the right?” Blakesley said, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

“Exactly,” Dutton said. “The price was pearls. I’ll grant you that you met the price, but late. You are preceded, Ashdon. You must wait your turn.”

“You are too crass, Dutton,” Blakesley. “The lady will faint if you keep on.”

The lady would run screaming from the room if they kept on. Why Ashdon wanted to protect her from that, he didn’t know. Surely she had brought the whole thing down upon her own head. How else had Blakesley found out about the pearls if not from her lips?

“You must choose, Caro,” Ashdon said. “You have set the price. You must choose the winner in this contest. Unless you prefer to entertain all three of us? At once?”

“Gad, Ashdon, but you’re mean when you’re crossed,” Blakesley said. “Does competition so distress you? Must the field be cleared for you to win?”

Dutton laughed under his breath. It was then that Ashdon hit him in the breadbasket. He had to hit something, after all, and Dutton was such a convenient and worthy target.

Dutton bent over, Blakesley burst out laughing, Caro ran into the dressing room, and Calbourne said, “That’s hardly like you, Ash.”

Yes, well, very little was like him lately.

Seventeen

“THERE you are, Lord Westlin. I wondered where you were hiding,” Sophia said with just the merest trace of a smile.

“Hiding?” he growled. “I was merely trying to avoid you.”

“Is that so?” she said, letting her gaze travel from his grizzled head to his well-shod feet. “It’s obvious that
one
part of you is very glad to see me again.”