The Accidental Courtesan

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The Accidental Courtesan Page 19

by Cheryl Ann Smith


  He looked at Noelle. It was impossible to see how deeply she’d suffered when the only outward sign was four knuckle bruises lined up in a row on her skin. “I sent word, as I knew you’d want to see her for yourself.”

  Noelle was pale as death. His chest tightened. Despite the physician’s assurances, and his positive assurances to the duchess, he was terribly worried. It had been hours since Noelle first came around, and with every passing minute, he feared she would never awaken from her deathly sleep.

  Her Grace clasped Noelle’s hand to her chest, but her gaze was locked onto him. “I should horsewhip you for getting her into this fix, but I know much of this situation happened because she is intensely stubborn. I told her this was a terrible idea, but she cannot see reason when her mind is set.” She looked down at Noelle and bit her lower lip to stop its trembling. “However, should she fail to recover, I will hold you responsible.”

  It didn’t take Her Grace’s admonition to make him feel guilty. The weight of his part in this debacle was like an anvil. “I should’ve made good my threat and locked her in a wardrobe.” He cursed under his breath. “She trusted me to watch over her, and I failed.”

  Noelle had been lying there still as death for over fourteen hours while Gavin anxiously focused on her every shallow breath as proof she lived. If there was a pause between breaths, he shot to his feet and pressed his fingertips to her neck. He never left her bedside for more than a few minutes, certain his vigil was what kept her alive.

  No amount of pummeling the man whom Crawford watched downstairs could assuage his guilt or rage. Eventually the responsibility came back to him. If he hadn’t kissed her, or rather, allowed her to kiss him, she wouldn’t have been frightened off by his desire and fallen into the arms of the footpad.

  “I want her brought to my home,” Her Grace said sharply. “I can better care for her there.”

  “No.” Gavin slumped into a chair. His temples pulsed and pain shot through his brain. “The physician said she shouldn’t be moved. To do so could cause greater harm.”

  The duchess frowned. “I cannot leave her unattended and under the care of two unmarried men. I’d attend to her myself, but having me living under this roof would draw attention to this house, and there would be an irreparable scandal if the gossips took notice of our presence here. There would be no reasonable explanation.” She sighed. “Though I know and trust Mister Crawford to a small degree, and don’t think either of you will harm her while she is ill, it is unseemly. And you have her attacker a floor below!”

  What a muddle he’d dropped into. Perhaps sending for the duchess hadn’t been a grand idea. She hadn’t been happy with him before, because of his indecent attentions to her sister. Now she was fully enraged, and he was wearing a target on his back.

  “Crawford will take up temporary residence at an inn and will see to the footpad. He refuses to speak, but Crawford knows a man who can get him to talk.” Gavin rubbed his temple and felt the headache pulse beneath his fingertips. There were men who knew techniques of torture from the Far East that could break a man’s spirit and leave him a body without a mind. Gavin found such measures abominable. Still, if it meant saving Noelle from further harm, he’d leave Crawford to do whatever was needed. “I have faith this matter will be resolved quickly.”

  “Excellent. Now not only is my sister’s situation dire, but we can add torture to the list of crimes.” The duchess turned away and touched her knuckles to Noelle’s florid cheek. Deep worry etched tight lines around her mouth. “When you discover the person behind this thievery, I would like to have a hand in the confrontation. My driver has a fine new horsewhip I’d like to try out on his back.”

  “If there is anything left to use it on.” The headache was nothing compared to the ache in his stomach. He’d give all he had to rewind the last several hours. All he could do now was flush out the thief-master and care for Noelle.

  He refused to believe her state was permanent. His world would be a dismal place without this beautiful and stubborn chit around to keep him engaged.

  Gavin’s heart tugged. He was startled by the realization he’d grown to deeply care for her. He wanted her to awaken and give him one of her exasperated glares, then smile unbidden under his teasing; as though to do so was a crime against everything she stood for. He wanted to see her scowl at him for his improper behavior, then sigh the instant his lips covered hers.

  Deep down, he had the feeling she didn’t find him as distasteful as she’d led him to believe. There were times when he’d spoken or behaved outrageously and was certain he caught a glimpse of humor in her eyes. He knew she saw him as little better than a savage. However, it didn’t keep her from melting in his arms and kissing him whenever he pressed his attentions.

  “The fewer people who know where Noelle is, the safer her reputation will be,” he agreed. His tone brooked no argument. To move her could mean her death. Since he was responsible for this attack, it was up to him to see that she was saved from any further difficulties. “I can care for her myself.”

  “Absolutely not,” the duchess snapped, then immediately lowered her voice. “It is like giving the weasel the key to the chicken coop. Why would I trust you not to take advantage of her weakness?”

  Now he was shocked and truly offended. Did he look like the kind of man who would paw at her body while she slept? “You cannot believe me such a lowly wretch as to molest her while she cannot defend herself.” He seethed. “I assure you, Your Grace, I prefer my lovers willing and conscious.”

  She glared. “Who undressed her?”

  Gavin dropped his hands to his sides. The woman was impossible. “She needed less clothing to breathe comfortably. And as I’m certain you noted, she is still covered by her chemise.”

  “And what are your qualifications for tending the infirm, Mister Blackwell?” the duchess pressed. “There will be certain delicate needs that will come up. You have no staff here except a housekeeper. Are your prepared for that eventuality?”

  More than prepared. “Though my mother had maids to tend to her as she lay dying, I often assisted with her care. I assure you, Your Grace, I can manage quite well.”

  Her eyes softened perceptibly when he mentioned his deceased mother. It was a human side of the starchy duchess he hadn’t seen until today. And she had every right to be concerned. The conditions here were less than ideal. But he would save Noelle. He owed her that much.

  “I’m sorry about your mother.” She leaned to caress the side of her sister’s face. “Please make her well,” she said softly. “I would hate to see you hanged.”

  Gavin snorted. The sisters were as close to a set of twins as two women born a year or so apart, to different mothers, could be. Both were willful, stubborn, and ill-humored at times. And very lovely, too. There were hints of each other in their eyes and features, but enough of a difference that they could hide their sisterly connection. He hadn’t been frightened when he’d been attacked by the trio of footpads. But the thought of meeting the two women in a darkened alley, while they were in a rage, could strike fear in the most toughened heart.

  He bit back a grim smile. Noelle would be proud of her sister. She’d enjoy seeing him taken down a peg.

  It took another few minutes to convince the duchess to leave Noelle in his care, and a few more to agree to send for her immediately if Noelle’s condition changed in any way.

  “I will be visiting, and often.” With a parting glare, she left him alone with his patient.

  Gavin shook his head. Under other circumstances, he knew Her Grace wouldn’t allow this state of affairs. But they couldn’t move Noelle, and to bring in a chaperone or servants would risk gossips’ getting word of her injury. Once that happened, it wouldn’t take long for the stories about Noelle to race throughout the Ton.

  Crawford assured him his housekeeper was discreet and lived elsewhere. For much of the time, they’d be alone.

  With one last check to see that Noelle was comfortable,
he left the room and set off to make final arrangements with Crawford to remove from the town house the filthy piece of cow dung who’d attacked Noelle.

  It wasn’t more than an hour or so before a sharp rap sounded on the town house door. A middle-aged woman with a stern face and a sterner demeanor rudely announced herself as Noelle’s maid, Martha something-or-other, brushed past him, and took over the majority of Noelle’s care with quiet efficiency.

  Despite her seeming acceptance of his promise to take great care of Noelle, the duchess had sent a bulldog to nurse her. He’d managed to learn Martha had been with Noelle forever and wasn’t about to allow Gavin to hurt “her girl.”

  The only time he was allowed near Noelle was when he forced the issue and sent the maid off for food and rest. The next two days were long, and the nights were worse. Noelle was as still as death. He spent most of his time with her, watching her chest rise and fall, and hearing the soft ticks of a clock breaking the silence. He prayed and held her hand and made God and Noelle all sorts of promises if only she’d open her beautiful eyes.

  The duchess, dark circles framing her eyes, came twice. After the first morning, Gavin stopped offering assurances of Noelle’s recovery. He was losing hope.

  Even the physician had little to say. With a head injury, patients either recovered or they didn’t. And even when patients came out of the sleep, many were no longer able to care for themselves and seldom lived long.

  Gavin appreciated his candor even as he wanted to shake some hope out of the man.

  “You should take some rest, Mister Blackwell,” Martha said as she set a tray with a bowl of broth beside the bed, in case Noelle awakened and needed nourishment. “I had the housekeeper make you a tray of bread and cheese, and she took it to your room.”

  Gavin looked at the maid through weary eyes and sensed a crack developing in her dislike for him. He suspected that once she realized he wasn’t about to impregnate Noelle in her sleep, and that his intention was only to see her well, she’d allow him time alone with their patient, without hovering outside the open door.

  They both had the same purpose, and it drew them together, albeit reluctantly.

  He scratched a hand over his head and arched to release the crick in his spine. He needed a bath more than food. He was still wearing the clothes he’d worn the night of the ball and was starting to find himself offensive.

  “I think I shall.” He squeezed Noelle’s hand, then stood up. “If anything changes, please fetch me immediately.”

  He felt the weight of Martha’s curious perusal as he left the room to heat some water.

  It was nearing morning on the third day when he woke to a slight stir beside him. He’d lain down beside Noelle last evening as he had the night before, when Martha was sleeping, taking comfort in the soft sound of her breathing. As long as she breathed, he could continue to pray for heavenly intervention.

  He listened for some sign of awakening, but there was no other movement in the darkness. He slumped and slid an arm around her. Gently, he pressed his face into her hair. The scent of lemon and cinnamon was no longer present.

  Anguish threatened to undo his composure. But throwing chairs about and smashing china wouldn’t help her recover. He had to stay positive.

  Cursing fate was better left for when he was alone.

  “I am sorry, love,” he whispered, then curved his body against hers and gently snuggled her into his warmth. He held her tight in the circle of his arm. “If you come back to us, I promise to make amends for the way I mauled and mistreated you.”

  “Including removing your hand from my left breast?” came a weak reply.

  Gavin was startled. “Noelle?” He pulled back and rolled from the bed to light the lamp. When he rushed back and knelt by the bed, her eyes were open. He’d never seen anything as lovely as the small half smile on her perfect lips. “You scared ten years off my life,” he scolded, then clasped her hands together in his and pressed two firm kisses on her knuckles.

  She looked into his eyes and then moved her attention to his temples. “I see a gray hair,” she croaked, her voice thin. “Please explain what happened to me.”

  Taking the glass from the table next to the bed, Gavin poured some tepid tea and lifted the glass to her lips. Noelle sipped gratefully, then settled back on the pillow. She was pale, and dark circles curved under her eyes. She had never looked more beautiful.

  The tight band around his heart eased. “You were kidnapped, and the thug cuffed your temple.”

  She grimaced. It was a long moment before she spoke again. “I do remember that part. But why was I taken? The men were after you.”

  Gavin returned the glass to the table and took her hand. “You were a tool. The kidnappers planned to use you to force me to hand over the necklace.”

  Noelle grimaced. “I never planned for that eventuality. And how long have I been sleeping?”

  “You’ve been unconscious for more than two days.” Gavin wanted to whoop from the rooftops. She was frail and weak, but he knew she’d live to scold him another day. Gathering her hand, he pressed it to his mouth. “If you ever worry me like that again, I will turn you over my knee and paddle your buttocks red.”

  Her eyes twinkled, and she managed a weak scolding. “I thought you had other plans for my buttocks.” She narrowed her eyes. “I seem to recall you handling them several times without my permission.”

  He offered a sheepish grin. “I promise never to take any more liberties. I have treated you badly. You will never have to suffer my ill attentions again.”

  The frown deepened into a crease between her brows.

  “Never?” The corners of her mouth drifted downward. “Then I shall live the rest of my life under crushing disappointment. I have discovered your manhandling and kisses are the most exciting part of my days.”

  Noelle wanted to giggle when his brows shot up, but she was too weak to do so. She wasn’t sure how long she’d lain in the dark in this tiny white room, perhaps as long as an hour or two, listening to him sleep while taking comfort in his warm body beside her in bed.

  The shock of discovering she wasn’t alone under the sheets had quickly turned to pleasure when she caught his scent and realized it wasn’t a stranger beside her. Well, as much pleasure as one could take when one’s head hurt and every small movement creaked painfully along stiff muscles and bones.

  It had also allowed her time to think about her situation. Having been close to losing her life at the hands of the kidnapper, she realized how tenuous life was. She could fret about her virginity, or rules, or possible heartbreak until her head spun, but none of it mattered. Happiness, even a few stolen moments, was more important than anything else.

  All jesting and verbal sparring aside, she wanted Gavin, and she wouldn’t be satisfied until she learned if his seductive wager had been bluster or truth. She’d love him for as long as she could and cherish the memories of those stolen moments for the rest of her life.

  “You have certainly come to some conclusions since we spoke last. How long were you awake?” he asked.

  Gavin looked haggard and in real need of giving attention to his appearance. Obviously her infirmity had taken a toll on him. She wanted to lift her hand to his face but didn’t have the strength. In time she’d run her fingers through his glossy hair and down his face and give thanks she’d survived her ordeal to kiss him again.

  “I was awake long enough to know I enjoyed the feel of your hand on my left breast. Unfortunately, the right one wasn’t so blessed.” She locked onto his stare. From the fresh smell of her nightdress over unwashed skin, she knew she’d been cared for. Still, she couldn’t remember the details of anything more than a hazy recollection of three men in a room, one of whom was Gavin, and a brief conversation. After that, the last days were blank.

  Whatever else had happened since the courtesan ball, it was obvious that Gavin had spent time at her bedside, his rumpled clothing showing that he’d not been attended to by a proper
valet.

  “I was holding you,” he countered. He darted his eyes away from her face. “I didn’t realize the placement of my hand over the coverlet was also on your breast.”

  “So you didn’t enjoy cupping my breast?” she teased grimly. “I think I have suffered the greatest injury I can suffer. I have lost the ability to entice a man.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Noelle watched his face and bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. There were all sorts of emotions playing on his handsome countenance, none of which was disgust. He wanted her, she knew, but in her weakened condition he had to feel like a cad for thinking lecherous thoughts. And he was thinking them, she had no doubt, when his eyes dipped of their own volition to her breasts before they snapped back to her face just as quickly.

  She loved him. When she’d been lying there after awakening, she’d realized she wanted to share his bed, not for happily-ever-after but for one night, a string of nights. Maybe they could keep their relationship secret, all theirs, like a pair of star-crossed lovers hiding from the world, unable to give each other up. It would be her grandest adventure of all.

  “Your injury has certainly rattled your brain, My Lady,” Gavin said, his voice serious. He kept his attention on the wall behind the bed, as if the plaster was infinitely fascinating. “You don’t know what you are saying. It is not ladylike to tease a man in such a manner unless you are prepared to accept the consequences.”

  “Consequences? You mean what happens when a man and woman come together in bed?” She opened her eyes wide. If she was to break through his newly misguided sense of honor, she had to force him into action. The only way to do that, she mused, was to keep him focusing not on what his mind wanted him to do but on what his body wanted. “I must admit I do lack that knowledge, other than a few general points of the act itself. However, I have decided you should be the man to teach me.”

 

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