A Courtesan's Scandal

by Julia London

  “She is not a possession, she is a person of free will … unless the laws of Britain have changed.”

  “You forget, old friend,” George said angrily, “that I bought her services from Cousineau. And I will one day be your king.”

  “You barter human flesh,” Grayson said acidly. “You are no better than the slave traders. What you demanded of me was most reprehensible, but ironically, I must thank you for it. I love Kate and I will not allow you to use her ill.”

  The prince blinked with surprise, then laughed wildly. “Are you a bloody fool? Speak carefully—there are many who would suffer in the wake of your folly!”

  “Your Grace?”

  Grayson jerked an angry gaze to his butler’s intrusion. “Not now.”

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but a messenger has arrived with imperative news.”

  “Imperative?” Grayson snapped, whirling around on him. “What is so damned imperative?”

  “Lady Eustis has had an emergency and begs you attend her.”

  George laughed derisively. “She would have a true emergency if I were to invite her lord husband to dine,” he said. “What do you think would become of your Lady Eustis then?”

  “That is all, Roarke,” Grayson said, and the moment the man left the room, he turned on the prince. “You are wrong to believe you will intimidate me. Do what you will, George, but don’t dare threaten me.”

  “Do you ask for ruin?” George said incredulously. “Because that is precisely what you will receive!”

  “You will threaten to ruin me no matter what I do or say. But I think you are bluffing, George. By your own admission public sentiment is widely against you. If you ever hope to be king, perhaps you ought to think twice about threatening me.” With that, Grayson walked out of the room without further conversation. He had too much on his mind to waste another moment on George.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Diana anxiously paced the floor of her suite, unable to sit still, unable to think. She glanced at the mantel clock over and over again, wondering if Grayson would come, fearful that Charles might have forgotten something and returned home. She had convinced him to pay a call to his gentlemen’s club today since the weather was clear. She had a two-, perhaps a three-hour window of time.

  She had to see Grayson today, for Charles had declared he and Diana would be returning to the country the day after the prince’s fête, a decision for which Diana had had to barter heavily with Charles. He wanted her home, having been encouraged by her gift of a new hunting coat. But Diana had insisted she needed to be fitted for her Season’s wardrobe and to help Prudence with some charitable endeavor. Fortunately, Charles never asked her which charitable endeavor, as there was none.

  Charles did not want to attend the fête, and that was another battle. He said it was too extravagant and too indulgent when the Crown faced such controversy surrounding the Prince and Princess of Wales. “The prince has no conscience,” Charles complained.

  Diana didn’t care about all that. “All my friends will attend,” she’d said.

  “Very well. You may go, Diana, but the following morning, we will depart for Shropshire. The air is too thick in London, and I do not believe it is conducive to conceiving a child.”

  Diana had wished he’d find the air so thick that he’d choke on it.

  When she heard Millie’s voice, she whirled toward the door. Grayson had come. She rushed to her mirror to check her appearance once more.

  Millie knocked. “Come,” Diana said and in the next moment, Grayson swept into the room, still holding his hat. Millie stood behind him at the threshold. “Thank you, Millie,” Diana said.

  Millie looked at Grayson’s back and slowly backed out, pulling the door closed with her.

  Diana smiled as brightly as she could, given the circumstances. “I am so very happy to see you.”

  “What has happened?” Grayson asked, frowning with concern. “Are you all right? Have you come to harm?”

  She shook her head. “No, I—I desperately needed to see you.”

  His face darkened. “There is no emergency?”

  “The emergency is you and me.”

  Grayson pushed a hand through his hair and looked at the carpet a long moment. “Have you lost your mind?” he snapped. “I thought something had happened, that Eustis had discovered us and threatened you!”

  Diana had foolishly imagined him rushing to take her into his arms, but as that was clearly a fantasy, Diana did the next best thing—she rushed into his. She ran to him, grabbed his head between her hands, and kissed him.

  Grayson gripped her arms and tried to push her away, but she held tightly. He gave her a stronger push, setting her back on her heels. “Stop it, Diana.”

  But Diana couldn’t stop. The moment he let her go, she reached for him again. Grayson put her back much more firmly. “Stop.”

  His rejection was so stinging that she reacted without thinking—she slapped him.

  It stunned Grayson. He stared at her as he touched his fingers to his cheek where she’d struck him. “You have indeed lost your mind, madam.”

  “Bastard!”

  “Did you summon me here and risk everything to seduce me? Or to call me a bastard?”

  “How can you do this to me?” she cried. “How could you leave me so utterly alone?”

  He sighed impatiently. “I haven’t left you alone, Diana. I have said this to you the best way I know how— it’s over between us. Our affair is over, just as we always knew it would be! I am not going to sweep in here like some chivalrous knight and take you from him!”

  She had hoped he would do precisely that. “I hate him, Grayson,” she said, suddenly tearful. “I hate him with all my being.”

  He at least had the decency to look as if that pained him. “Do you hate him so much that you might ask him to divorce you?”

  “You know I can’t do that!” she said angrily.

  “Then what is it you want from me?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “I cannot care for you as I once did. I no longer bear you in my heart, Diana, and frankly, I’m not certain I ever did.”

  She gasped.

  “I do not want to be so blunt, but you have forced me to it.”

  “I love you, Grayson. Does that not mean anything to you?”

  “Of course it does,” he said. “But it doesn’t change our situation. You have made it very clear from the beginning that divorce would never be an option for you. I did what I had to do to protect you from scandal. Yet it made me realize how fragile our affair is, Diana. It was built on risk and we cannot sustain it. We cannot nurture it. It is best we end it. Please try and accept that.”

  The sound Diana heard was her strangled cry; she turned around, fearful that she would be ill.

  “Diana,” Grayson said, and put his hand on her arm and forced her around. “I have admired you, cared for you, and I will be forever grateful for our time together. But I never gave you any reason to believe there would be more, or that it would go on forever. Nor did you expect it. You know you didn’t—you have said as much to me. Now you must accept what is.”

  “What is?” she said hatefully. “That you have ended our affair for a merchant’s whore?”

  His expression turned hard. “I ended it because it was time. Don’t send me more messages, Diana. I will not respond to them.”

  “You are a bastard.”

  He let go of her arm and walked out.

  “Bastard!” she shouted after him. She hated him. She hated him with a white-hot fury, so hot that she crumbled, sliding down to her knees on the chaise, sucking in deep breaths.

  “Are you all right, mu’um?”

  It was Millie, conniving Millie. God, but Diana hated the world just now. “I am fine.” She forced herself up and wiped her face. “Where is that blessed sailor?” she demanded, glaring at Millie.

  “The ship will dock on the morrow.”

  “I want him here, just as soon as that ship docks, and
by God, Millie, if he is not on the ship, you best not come home.”

  Millie’s face darkened. “Very well, mu’um,” she said. “But I’ll need ten pounds.”

  “Whatever for?” Diana cried. “Have you not extorted enough from me?”

  “He won’t come along just for the asking, eh?” Millie said.

  God in heaven, Diana had no idea how she would ever extract herself from this vicious cycle of extortion, but at the moment she hardly cared. She had one thought on her mind, and that was to destroy the Duke of Darlington in any way that she possibly could.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Kate knew the prince had come when she heard a ruckus on the street. She walked to the window of the drawing room and saw people gathering around his carriage, thrilled to see the Prince of Wales emerge and stride to her door.

  Kate turned away from the window and swallowed. This was it, then. This was the moment she’d been dreading for almost a week now. She drew a deep breath.

  A moment later, Aldous walked into the drawing room and bowed as the prince sailed in behind him. Kate instantly fell into a curtsy. “Your Highness, I am so very pleased to receive you.”

  His gaze flicked over her before he turned to Aldous and nodded toward the door. Aldous instantly went out, leaving them alone. Kate smiled at the prince. He did not smile back. He walked slowly to her, his gaze raking over her. He put his hand to her chin and held her head still while his eyes roamed her face.

  Kate smiled, but inside, she was shaking.

  “It’s over,” he said quietly, and Kate’s shaking turned to panic. She felt short of breath and tried to lower her head, but the prince held her firmly. “The king refuses to allow me to seek a parliamentary divorce. That is unwelcome news for me,” he said, his gaze drifting to her mouth. “But then again, it means that I am free to pursue what I think shall be a long and lusty association.”

  Kate gasped softly and instinctively tried to move away, but he captured her mouth with his, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She cried out against his mouth and wrenched free of him. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as she thought desperately of what to do.

  “What’s wrong, ma petite?” he asked coldly. “Is my house not to your liking? Are the gowns I put on your back not of the finest quality? The jewels not shiny enough?”

  “They are perfect,” she said quickly. “You have been too generous.”

  “Perhaps I have, for I thought you understood clearly what accepting these gifts means you would give me in return.” He reached for her again, gripping her arm tightly as he pulled her into an unyielding embrace. This time, she could not wrest herself free as he kissed her and roughly caressed her arm and hip with one hand.

  Somehow, she managed to get her hands between them and pushed hard against him. The prince glared at her, his eyes ice cold. “Why are you behaving in such a displeasing manner?” he snapped.

  “There is something I must say,” she said.

  “Save it. I’m in no mood for talk.” He reached for her again.

  Kate quickly moved out of his reach. “Your Highness … I cannot …” God, what was she about to do? “I cannot in good conscience provide you with what you need.”

  That admission seemed to startle him—into laughter. “I don’t give a damn about your conscience. You are mine in fair agreement.”

  “But I am in love with someone else.”

  He surprised her with another awful laugh. “Darlington? You fancy yourself in love with the Duke of Darlington?”

  “I do,” she said, her voice shaking. “And I beg your pardon for it, for that is certainly not what I intended—”

  “Don’t be dull-witted, Kate,” he said sharply. “You should know the truth about your bloody duke. I left Darlington House before coming here and your lover was on his way to pay a personal call to Lady Eustis.”

  Kate’s stomach dropped. She gaped at the prince.

  “Did you think he would risk all for you?” the prince scoffed. “That he would dare bring dishonor on his esteemed family by having some sort of open affair with a courtesan? You stupid girl.”

  His words devastated her, but Kate refused to believe him. She looked the prince square in the eye. “That may very well be true, but nevertheless, I have lied to you, Your Highness. I gave myself to him.”

  “I know you lied to me!” he exclaimed angrily. “All of bloody London knows you lied to me! Have I not suffered enough from the lies of women? Must I be made to suffer your perfidy as well? You? For whom I have provided dearly in the hope that you, at the very least, could be true?”

  She flinched inwardly. “I never meant—”

  “I don’t care what you meant! I bought your services fairly and I will have them. Those services require your loyalty! Turn your heart and your mind from Darlington—he is in Lady Eustis’s bed at this very moment, and if you don’t believe me, you might send your man around to Eustis House on Park.”

  Kate felt sick. She took a shallow breath and felt her heart start to pound uncomfortably.

  “I will present you at the fête as mine,” the prince continued. “Buy whatever gown or jewelry you need and have the bills sent to me.” He took her chin in his hand again and forced her head up to look at him. “I will have the entire guest list believing you are utterly devoted to your prince, do you understand?”

  Yes, she understood. She understood that the prince’s pride was at stake. She nodded.

  He dropped his hand. His angry glare swept from the top of her head to the tips of her slippers, lingering on her abdomen. “There is one last thing. Get rid of that bastard in you.”

  Kate gasped, covering her mouth with her hand in horror.

  “I don’t care how,” he said, entirely too easily. “Just rid yourself of it if you want to keep your house and your position of privilege. If you don’t do as I say, you will have none of this, for I will see to it that no one will have you, especially not Darlington.”

  He ignored her soft cry of shock and strode out, leaving her gasping for breath.

  Over supper that evening, Digby dragged the details of the prince’s visit out of Kate while Aldous listened silently. When she told them what he wanted of her, Digby was vociferous in his opinion that Kate do as the prince demanded. “He clearly intends to give you another chance, Kate, and thank God for that. You cannot afford to turn away from it, can you? You haven’t enough to strike out on your own. Darlington is not coming for you. What else might you do?”

  “Darlington came,” Aldous said between bites of potatoes.

  The news startled Digby. “He came here? When?”

  “Around tea,” Aldous said. “But Kate wouldn’t see him.”

  Digby shifted his surprised look to Kate.

  She shrugged and looked at her plate of untouched food. How could she have seen him, knowing he’d just come from Lady Eustis? How could she hear him offer her essentially the same arrangement the prince had offered her, save the demand of aborting her child? “I don’t want to see him again. Ever,” she said resolutely, and avoided Digby’s gaze.

  “Kate, love,” Digby said, covering her hand with his. “At least consider what the prince requests. How will you ever raise a child?”

  A tear slid from her cheek and onto her plate. Kate didn’t look up at either man.

  Aldous and Digby accompanied Kate to St. Katharine’s the following afternoon so that she might take some food and candles to the women. As they walked through the crowded streets of St. Katharine’s, Aldous kept a close eye on Kate. She was even paler than she’d been, and she seemed to be fighting a constant flow of tears.

  He didn’t think Digby was helping in the least. “Won’t you at least speak with Agnes Miller?” he’d urged Kate. “She’d at least know what to do.”

  But Kate shook her head. She couldn’t seem to bring herself to speak, much less make such an extraordinary decision. Fannie Breen had died at the hands of the rat catcher’s wife, and Aldous wasn’t g
oing to allow Kate to put herself in harm’s way. Fortunately, Kate seemed to share his opinion of what Digby was suggesting—it went against nature and God.

  When Digby seemed to finally accept that Kate wasn’t going to pay a call on Agnes, he sighed, put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her fondly. “Buck up, love,” he said. “You’re going to need all your wits about you.”

  Aldous couldn’t bear to watch her suffer. Later that afternoon, he found her sitting in the drawing room, staring into space. He couldn’t help himself. He’d put on his best suit of clothing and had tried to tame the unruly ginger curls on his head. He’d even practiced what he might say, as he was a wee bit anxious.

  When he asked Kate, he did it properly, by going down on his good knee.

  Kate’s divine eyes widened with surprise.

  “I know you don’t love me,” Aldous said quickly. “Or ever would. But I’d gladly give you and the bairn my name, Kate. Will you marry me?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She slowly stood and offered her hand to Aldous to help him to his feet. She didn’t speak at first, but wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly to her. Aldous knew she’d not accept his offer, and closed his eyes and bent his head, touching it to hers, savoring the moment of feeling her body so close to his.

  “Thank you for your offer,” Kate said. “It means more to me than you will ever know.” That was all she said, but it was enough for Aldous to know she had refused him. And while it pained him, he didn’t feel awfully bad about it. He knew she loved the duke with all that she had.

  It was the following afternoon at the St. Katharine’s quay that Aldous heard talk of The Princess. It had come into the West Indies dock. One chap told Aldous that there was quite a lot of commotion around it, as Wilber-force and his followers had staged a protest against the crippled slaver, trying to keep it from docking.

  Aldous told Digby that while Kate napped he was going to the Isle of Dogs and the West Indies dock to find Jude.

  “That’s what our girl needs,” Digby said, and reached into his pocket and withdrew several coins. “Here, take this. You’ll need something to persuade him to come round to his sister. Look for a man who resembles Kate— fair hair, green eyes. Quite handsome, I’ve been told. He’ll undoubtedly head for the nearest tavern.”