The Courtesan's Secret (26 page)

"And he confessed all this to you? Today?" Blakes insisted, clearly not believing that any man
could
find her so instantly and completely compelling, the sod.

"I
was
so bold as to ask him," Sophia admitted, "but, yes. He confessed it all most readily. One might even say
happily
. That surprises you, Lord Henry? How very... peculiar."

"Damned peculiar," Dutton muttered and slumped down in his chair. As it was a very delicate chair of feminine proportions, he didn't look at all comfortable. Louisa was flatly delighted.

"I beg your pardon, my lord?" Sophia said.

"Nothing," Dutton said in the merest undertone.

"You did something," Blakes said, staring hard at Sophia. Sophia didn't look alarmed in the least. "You arranged something with Penrith."

"I?" Sophia asked innocently, her sable brows raised in query. There was no hope for it; Sophia Dalby was capable of many things, but looking innocent was not one of them. "What an odd remark, Lord Henry. If you are looking for the cause of his interest, she sits right in front of you. Don't tell me that you've never noticed how lovely and how original Lady Louisa is. Penrith certainly had no trouble recognizing her particular charms."

Louisa felt herself flush with pleasure. She wasn't inclined to believe a word of it, but they were such very nice words. Being occasionally drowned in flattery just had to be beneficial. She felt better than she had in years.

"What exactly did you say to Penrith?" Blakesley said, leaving Louisa so that he could stand in front of Sophia, who was standing not too terribly far from Dutton.

"Such suspicions, Lord Henry," Sophia drawled, smirking at him almost flirtatiously. "One would think you'd had experience in conspiracies of all sorts, but that couldn't possibly be true, could it?"

Upon which, Blakes scowled politely at Sophia and cocked his head in a gesture of impatience. Louisa had seen that particular look on his face before. It was only slightly alarming, which meant that Sophia would likely find it amusing.

"I merely pointed out to him the obvious," Sophia said lightly, "which is that it would only help his reputation as a man of discerning taste and impeccable breeding to be on cordial terms with Lady Louisa. Which it certainly shall. Or do you disagree?"

"No," Blakes said sharply, turning from Sophia to stare for a moment at Dutton. Dutton returned his look briefly and then dipped his gaze downward. Louisa still could not fathom why Dutton was in the room. He certainly had no part in this... negotiation. Unless he wanted to...bid...on her as well?

The thought should have given her chills of rapture. Strangely, she was only mildly curious as to what, if anything, he would say. She watched him from her seat, studying him for signs of what could only be called a breakthrough.

He was, as ever, completely silent in regards to her.

Oh, well.

Perhaps there were others who found her of intense and, dare she say it, matrimonial interest?

"I'm so glad to hear it," Sophia said cheerfully, promptly ignoring Blakesley to turn her attention to the Duke and Duchess of Hyde. "But before we allow this discussion to proceed further, I feel I must mention the Duke of Edenham."

At that, Amelia gasped.

All eyes, almost in unison, turned to Amelia, who had the grace to pretend to cough lightly and make something of a pretense of trying to catch her breath. But her eyes told it all. Her eyes were aimed right at Louisa and they had the most profound look of betrayal in their soft blue depths.

Well,
really
, she had done nothing to cause any sort of... animation in the Duke of Edenham. She hadn't even spoken to him!

What would have happened if she
had
?

The idea was positively delicious.

"Yes?" Molly said, still casting Louisa dark looks over Sophia's shoulder. "What of Edenham? You can't mean that he's taken with the girl. I had no idea she got around so much," Molly said. It was not at all flattering, not the way she said it.

"Oh, he hasn't actually been introduced to her yet," Sophia said blithely. "Or has he? Have you been introduced to the Duke of Edenham, Lady Louisa?"

"No, not that I recall," Louisa said, trying to sound as casual as possible. She thought she did a good job of it.

"She meets dukes every day, does she?" Dutton muttered to no one in particular.

"Well, I've met her and I like her," Iveston said, which really, considering the situation, was a remarkable bit of good manners. She could have kissed him for that, a chaste and proper kiss, naturally. She had no intention of kissing anyone as she had kissed Blakes ever again. Even Dutton did not tempt her, which in any other circumstance she would have considered remarkable. In the present circumstance, he was, oddly, merely a distraction at best.

"You're not a duke," Dutton said, which really was entirely too rude of him.

"And happy to wait it out," Iveston said, giving his father a very affectionate bow of acknowledgement.

Wasn't Iveston the most lovely of men? Such a shame that Blakes was nothing at all like him.

Louisa heard Amelia sigh a trifle loudly, turned to see what that was about, and was gifted with the most irritated look on Amelia's face. She then followed it by a less than subtle jerk of her head.

Apparently, even though she had not yet met him either, Amelia considered Edenham, as dangerous as he was,
hers
to either reject or accept.

The marriage mart was such a tangled wood on the best of days.

Actually, this might go down as one of the best of days. Certainly, she'd never had even a sliver of this much interest before... before visiting Sophia this afternoon.

Perhaps Blakes was correct. Perhaps this was all to do with Sophia and nothing whatsoever to do with her.

The best of days just got a little bit dimmer.

"As I was saying," Sophia continued, "the Duke of Edenham and I had such a lovely chat just before dinner was announced and Lady Louisa's name came up. I was given the impression that he came not only to celebrate Lord Iveston's birth, but to finally have a chance to meet Lady Louisa. He is a very forward-thinking man and would so enjoy marrying again. In any regard, I do feel his name, however lightly, should merit consideration in these deliberations. Perhaps he should be present?"

Louisa could not help herself. She primped, just slightly, but she did primp. Edenham, for all of his dangerous reputation as a literal lady-killer, was an extremely handsome man. And his estate was supposed to be in the finest condition, requiring no major updates for at least a decade, which had to be considered, naturally, as having a good income that went fully back into the estate was almost like having no money at all.

Blakes, who kept moving about the room like a shark in a bowl, laid a hand, a very firm hand, on her shoulder and said, "There's no need. This has all been very interesting, Lady Dalby, even amusing, but as I've said from the start, I will marry Louisa. I, and no other."

"But surely, Blakes," Molly implored—she actually
implored
; it was something of a miracle that she did not get down on her
knees
— "if there is interest from other quarters, I know it is not done, not in the usual cases, but this is hardly usual. This woman"—and here she looked daggers at Louisa. Aunt Mary snored on—"this woman has certainly manipulated events, and she kissed you, not the other way round, and, oh, Blakes," she said, actually managing to squeeze out the odd tear or two, "I did so hope for you to marry well."

Which, really, was the cap to the entire evening.

Dutton chose that moment to snort in derision.

That
was the cap to the entire evening.

Upon which Blakes lifted her chin with his hand, and as he was standing behind her, she was forced to look back and up at him. Muttering what she assumed was an apology, Blakes leaned down rather more swiftly than gently, and kissed her. Hard. On the mouth.

Full on the mouth.

She even felt the slightest sweep of his tongue against her startled lips.

And still, he kept kissing her. Rather more thoroughly than was required to make the point, still, after a moment or two, she almost forget where they were and found herself relaxing deliciously into his kiss.

It wasn't quite the same with all the candles lit, but it was quite wonderful in a different way altogether. His hand held her chin quite firmly and his other hand came round and caressed her cheek so that she was quite completely encompassed and he was quite clearly in charge of the whole affair of what she would likely call
the music room kiss
, so there was no possibility of anyone in the room thinking that she had maneuvered Blakes into anything.

It was quite, quite the most extraordinary kiss in the most extraordinary of circumstances.

When Blakes finally lifted his mouth from hers, he kept her face captured in his hands and stared down at her, his eyes more gentle than she would have thought possible. She found herself smiling up at him and really couldn't think why. He had just ruined her completely and publicly and in so doing, he had saved her reputation.

It was so completely like Blakes.

It was so completely like him and so completely lovely that she took his hand from her cheek and kissed his palm in what was certainly more tenderness than she'd ever shown anyone.

The room was silent, heavily silent, which seemed to suit the moment somehow.

Amelia sighed.

Aunt Mary snored.

Louisa grinned into Blakesley's sweetly sardonic face.

"There you are," Blakes said, straightening up to face the room. "I have kissed her without any provocation whatsoever, beyond the obvious provocation of Louisa's blatant allure. I trust it is now obvious that I am fully capable of ruining a girl without any help."

At which point, Blakes winked at her almost cheerfully.

"You'll have to marry her now," Molly said glumly.

"Yes, I shall," Blakes said, looking across the room to where Mr. Grey stood.

Mr. Grey nodded his head once and crossed his arms over his chest in what appeared to be gracious defeat.

And
that
was the cap to the entire evening.

It should have been, but Dutton, who really did not know when to let things alone, something she had somehow missed in her two years pursuing him through the salons of London and two country house parties, said, "This is all to get back the Melverley pearls, you understand. A wager was made today. It's on the book at White's. In order to get her pearls, it must be proved to the Duke of Calbourne that Lady Louisa prefers Blakesley to me. That's all this is."

"Absurd," Hyde said. He had been a general during the revolt in the American colonies so he had quite an efficient way with a phrase. Terse, yes, but very decisive and oddly authoritative, even for a duke. "No girl ruins herself on a wager, not even for pearls."

"Check the book!" Dutton said. "Ask your son if it's not so."

The sons of Hyde looked at their brother and at her, clearly not at all certain whom or what to believe. It was particularly galling as it was apparently no secret to Dutton that she had wanted to marry him for far longer than was flattering to her.

She couldn't help but look to Blakes, to see his reaction, to gauge whether he was amused, enraged, or ashamed. She would kill him if he were ashamed for it would reflect so badly on her and on their imminent marriage. And they were getting married, no matter what Dutton said. She was ruined. He had ruined her. And she liked kissing him.

That was all there was to it.

"But, darling," Sophia said to Dutton, clearly amused and at Dutton's expense. It did much to calm Louisa, which was a frightening thought in and of itself. "Calbourne isn't in this room, nor was he in the yellow drawing room. By your own definition of this wager, Calbourne must be present to make a determination. And he is not. Clearly, this delightful conflagration of two hearts finally meeting is the result of pure desire and nothing less. Certainly whatever wager has been struck regarding the Melverley pearls is an altogether different situation and has nothing to do with this."

"No," Dutton said, pushing his hair back with a single hand, a gesture Louisa had always found dashing until this moment. "No, it's all about those pearls. Ask Blakesley."

At which point, Mr. Grey left his quiet corner without anyone noticing him, crossed like a shadow to Lord Dutton, and, before anyone, most especially Lord Dutton, knew what was happening, Mr. Grey hit Lord Dutton square on the jaw and then again in the vicinity of his eye.

Lord Dutton went down with a gush of expelled air.

Mr. Grey turned to Louisa, who stood with Blakes at her side, his arm about her in the most gloriously possessive gesture, and said, "My wedding gift."

And
that
was the cap to the entire evening.

Truly.

THE only thing left to do, besides the actual marriage, was to tell Melverley. Everyone, it seemed, was very eager to do so. Everyone except Louisa.

She didn't like having anything to do with her father, for any reason, on any occasion. This occasion, the occasion of her ruination and hasty marriage, was not one to promote any eagerness on her part.

Sophia, naturally, took the complete opposite view. She almost insisted on being present, even though there was no logical reason for her to be there and, strangely, for that very reason, Louisa could think of no reason to exclude her. Sophia was a force on the subject and Louisa, who was responsible for excluding her, could find no energy to do so.

She was to marry Blakesley.

Looking at him now, his hair gleaming in the light of music room candles, his blues eyes looking at her with a very clever twinkle, she could not quite believe it. What was more, she couldn't quite believe that she wasn't more upset about it. In point of fact, she wasn't upset at all.

She should so like to get him alone again and return that kiss he'd taken off of her, in front of his mother, no less. She'd pay him back for that. Somehow. She wasn't at all certain how a woman used her body as revenge against a man, but she knew someone who did know.