The Courtesan’s Daughter and the Gentleman: The Merry Misfits of Bath ~ Book Two

by Hutton, Callie

  Unable to bear any more hugs and kisses between Addie and her mother, Lottie swiped at her eyes. “Enough of this,” she said, waving her hand around. “I believe it is time for the church.”

  The four women made their way downstairs where Addie’s father, Mr. Mallory, and brother, Marcus, waited to escort the ladies to the church.

  “What a bevy of beauties,” Marcus said as he made his bow to the ladies.

  Lottie immediately froze at the man’s words. A quick look in his direction assured her that he was not looking directly at her, but at his sister. Lottie let out the breath she’d been holding. She’d been nervous when she and Pamela had first been introduced to the young Mr. Mallory, but he didn’t seem to know her, much to her relief.

  She would be happy when this wedding was over, and she and Pamela were on the rail back to Bath.

  They all trooped down to the two carriages to carry them to the church. Lord Berkshire had loaned one of his rented carriages so they could all travel at the same time to St. Paul’s Cathedral where the wedding would take place.

  The time passed quickly, and the ceremony was lovely. Lottie tried very hard not to wish for things she would never have. She was truly happy for her friend and was looking forward to helping her out by minding her store while she took her wedding trip and dealt with a legal problem involving her new stepson.

  Lottie and Pamela had been taking turns running Addie’s bookstore while Addie had been in London with Lord Berkshire. Lottie managed to take several shifts in addition to the work she did teaching young girls every week on the finer parts of being a lady. She tried not to laugh every time she thought of that term and how fast her student’s parents would pull their daughters out of her lessons if they ever found out about her mother. They wouldn’t be able to get their daughters far enough away from her.

  But Lottie’s years of training at the exclusive school she attended in France gave her the knowledge and confidence to take young girls under her wing and teach them dance, manners, watercolors, polite conversation, embroidery, and all the other things their parents wanted them to know before they were launched into Society.

  The attendees at the wedding ceremony were joined by about fifty other guests for the wedding breakfast at Mr. and Mrs. Mallory’s townhouse. Lottie was seated between Lord Berkshire’s elderly uncle, Mr. Filbert, and the man who acted as witness for Lord Berkshire, his friend and business partner, Mr. Carter Westbrooke.

  Mr. Filbert was slightly deaf and charming, trying his best to keep up a conversation even though she suspected he missed just about every other word. On the other hand, Mr. Westbrooke made her extremely nervous.

  He was young, not deaf, but unquestionably charming. And quite handsome. His black as night wavy hair fell in loose curls around his head. As startling as his hair was, his blue eyes were of a shade so deep she had not seen it before.

  Mr. Westbrooke was the sort of man who gave his entire attention to the person he was speaking with, making them feel as if they were the most important person in the room. His eyes were riveted on her face when he looked at her, and she felt as though he looked at her far too much.

  He was dressed quite fashionably in charcoal gray trousers, a silver and blue waistcoat with a crisp white shirt, black ascot tie, and a fine wool jacket in black.

  “So, Miss Danvers, the new Lady Berkshire tells me you have been friends with her ever since she moved to Bath.”

  “Yes.” She picked up her fork and continued to eat, staring at her plate. If any of her students saw her, they would be aghast. She gave several lectures on polite conversation at balls, dinner parties, and other social events. Every rule she gave them was slowly but surely being broken by their teacher.

  “Do you live with your family in Bath?” Mr. Westbrooke took a sip of his wine and continued to look in her direction.

  Be polite. This is your best friend’s wedding.

  “No.” She wished the blasted wedding breakfast over. So far no one had approached her to see if she was Mrs. Danforth’s daughter. In fact, no one even gave her more than a glance. Except for Mr. Westbrooke.

  The man in question was apparently not daunted by her abrupt—and very impolite—answer. He continued, “I don’t remember seeing you about town.”

  She sucked in a breath in horror. “Do you live in Bath, Mr. Westbrooke?”

  Please say no.

  “I do. I have a legal practice in Bath where I run my various businesses as well. Lord Berkshire and I are long-time friends. We attended Harrow together.”

  “How very nice.”

  Blast it.

  Avoiding men had been her strategy from the time she had fled London and made her home in Bath. She did not want to have anything to do with someone who might have spent time in her mother’s bed. Just the thought made her stomach cramp. Since she had no way of knowing who Mama’s clients had been over the years, it was best to avoid all men.

  “Lady Berkshire also said you and Lady Pamela, have been running her store since she’s been in London. That is quite nice of you.”

  It appeared Addie had done quite a bit of chatting about her and Pamela to this man. “I would do anything for Addie.” She hesitated. “I apologize, I mean Lady Berkshire.”

  Mr. Westbrooke laughed and took another sip of wine. She decided at that point that his smile should be illegal. “You need not apologize to me. I’m sure no one would be surprised to hear you refer to your close friend by her first name.”

  “Nevertheless, it is poor manners and not the correct thing to do.”

  He leaned in close, causing her to move back. “Do you always do the correct thing, Miss Danvers?”

  She did not want this man’s attention. She wanted no man’s attention. They were always after one thing. That one thing had destroyed her mother’s life and consequently her life as well.

  “Please excuse me.” She stood abruptly, knocking her glass of wine onto his leg. One look at his surprised expression and she turned on her heel and left the room.

  Carter jumped back as the contents from Miss Danvers’ glass of wine hit his thigh, the glass bouncing off and landing at his feet. The liquid—thankfully a white wine—splashed a bit onto his waistcoat as well, but not too much damage had been done, for which he was grateful, since he and a change of clothes were in different locations. Luckily, Miss Danvers had consumed most of her wine. He reached out and accepted a napkin from the footman’s hand.

  “My goodness, Mr. Westbrooke, what happened?” His hostess, the new Lady Berkshire viewed him with concern.

  “Nothing to trouble yourself over, my lady. Miss Danvers merely had an accident with the wine.” He blotted the liquid, hoping it would dry before the meal ended.

  Lady Berkshire moved to stand, but her husband placed his hand over hers. “I think Miss Danvers is fine.” He glanced over at Carter, a slight nod telling him he’d witnessed the mishap.

  With everyone resuming their meal, Carter considered what had just occurred. Miss Danvers had looked both terrified and repulsed when she scrambled from her seat and made her quick exit. He felt the need to follow her and assure her whatever he’d said that caused her to run like that was meant in jest and he had no intention of harming her or seducing her.

  Truthfully that last part wasn’t quite accurate. Even with the spectacles, Miss Danvers was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And he’d seen, danced with, conversed with, and slept with, enough of the fairer sex to make such a statement. He would not be a healthy young man if he didn’t like the idea of bedding her.

  She fascinated him. He’d been watching her since she’d caught his eye as she arrived at the church with Lady Pamela and the Mallory family. She was skittish, and nervous around him, but seemed quite relaxed when conversing with Lady Pamela and Lady Berkshire. She had remained with the receiving line once they’d entered the house, chatting with her friends, giving Carter an opportunity to study her further.

  For a woman with such beauty, she d
id not seem at all vain or self-centered, which he’d seen in so many women who had more than average looks. In fact, given her dress for the occasion, it was almost as if she was trying to downplay her unusual countenance.

  Odd, that.

  Carter glanced at Miss Danvers’ plate which still had quite a bit of food on it. He hated to think he caused her to miss her meal. He argued with himself and then finally, wet trousers or not, he pushed his chair back and stood. “Please excuse me for a moment,” he said to the lady on the other side of him.

  Perhaps what he was doing was foolish, but nevertheless something he felt he needed to do. A quick search of the house brought him to the drawing room where Miss Danvers stood, gazing out the window, a peaceful look on her face. So very different than she’d appeared when she had hurried off.

  In order not to startle her, Carter cleared his throat. When she turned, he said, “I hope whatever it was I said didn’t chase you from the celebration for your friend’s nuptials.”

  She didn’t appear quite as jumpy, and that encouraged him to slowly enter the room.

  “I apologize if I alarmed or upset you in any way. That was certainly not my intent.” He was mesmerized by her deep brown eyes and delicate demeanor. He wanted more than anything to wrap his arms around her and assure her he would never allow any harm to come to her.

  She offered him a slight smile. “And I apologize for drenching you with my wine. It was accidental, you know.”

  He grinned, pleased to see she didn’t move back as he approached her. “I believe you. I see no reason why you would purposely want to douse someone you just met with wine, unless he was truly offensive.”

  “No. That was not the case.” She turned back to look out the window again.

  “You left quite a bit of food on your plate. If you don’t return, I shall feel guilty all day for denying you sustenance.”

  That brought a delightful laugh from her. The sound flowed over him like warm water: comforting yet enticing. Then she said, “I hardly think missing one meal will see me wither away.”

  He held out his hand. “Please. I will feel much better if you rejoined the party. I believe Berkshire and his bride are getting close to cutting that delicious looking wedding cake, and I do not want to miss the opportunity to assuage my sweet tooth.”

  She ignored his hand and moved around him, giving herself a wide berth. “In that case, I must return.” She glanced back over her shoulder and smiled, stopping him dead in his tracks, his jaw slack. “You see, I have my own sweet tooth to satisfy.”

  Carter followed behind her like a puppy panting after its mistress. He had never in his entire life reacted this way to a woman. He knew deep inside it was not just her beauty, but her vulnerable demeanor and the sense of sadness that surrounded her. She’d been deeply wounded, and if it had been another gentleman to cause her such pain, he would find the man and teach him a lesson in behavior toward women.

  Especially this woman.

  “Is everything all right, Lottie?” Lady Berkshire glanced at the two of them as they arrived together. Hopefully, being alone with him for a few minutes would not cause a problem for Miss Danvers. The last thing he wanted was to endanger her reputation.

  Carter pulled out Miss Danvers’ chair. He eyed her plate with the now cold food and waved a footman over. “Please bring Miss Danvers hot food.”

  The man whipped away the plate, bowed, and left.

  Miss Danvers shook her head. “That wasn’t necessary. I had enough to eat.”

  “No. You didn’t, and I don’t wish to be subjected to you swooning because of a lack of nourishment.”

  She lifted her adorable little nose in the air. “I do not swoon.”

  “Never?” His brows rose.

  “Never. A proper young lady keeps control of herself at all times.”

  Carter’s eyes grew wide. “You sound like a teacher or a governess. Have I guessed correctly?”

  “You are quite clever, Mr. Westbrooke. In fact, I am employed to prepare a group of young ladies who will shortly make their debut into Society.”

  Another footman appeared with a new glass for Miss Danvers and then proceeded to pour wine for them both. Carter raised his glass. “Here is to wine that lands in one’s stomach, and not one’s person.”

  Miss Danvers offered that mesmerizing smile again and lifted her glass. “Here is to women who accidentally upend their wine onto gentlemen who do not return the favor.” After taking a sip, she said, “You don’t intend revenge, do you?”

  2

  Lottie could not believe she was flirting with Mr. Westbrooke. She never had the chance to flirt, but she assumed that was what she was doing. She hated to admit something about the man charmed her. And it felt quite good, actually. She had behaved foolishly in jumping from the table and running off like a skittish colt. Quite childish, in fact, and somewhat disastrous for Mr. Westbrooke’s trousers.

  When she finally calmed down, she realized if he knew who her mother was, he would have said so immediately. That was not the type of thing a man kept to himself if he hoped to entice a courtesan’s daughter into his bed.

  She had the feeling that Mr. Westbrooke was honorable. A gentleman, whether by birth or behavior it didn’t matter. She had acted like a lady her whole life, but she certainly wasn’t one by birth.

  Far from it, as she had learned.

  “Thank you,” Lottie said to the footman who placed a plate of food in front of her. She truly was no longer hungry: the little bit she’d eaten having satisfied her appetite. But considering the trouble Mr. Westbrooke had gone through, and the guilt for chasing her from her meal to which he had professed, she picked up her fork and gave it a try.

  “I find I am fascinated by your employment.” His easy smile did unfamiliar things to her insides. Nice, unfamiliar things. A spicy scent emanated from him that was pleasing to her senses, and his eyes held her captive. She could be in quite a bit of trouble with this man. Hopefully, this breakfast would be the only time she spent with him.

  “Are you one of the Upper Ten Thousand yourself?”

  That question took her by surprise and proved he did not know her. He might know her mother, but he hadn’t made the connection, which was a possibility since she resembled her mother so much. She breathed a sigh of relief. “No,” she laughed. “Not at all, but I was educated in a private boarding school for young ladies in France.”

  “Miss Danvers, you grow more interesting by the minute.” He viewed her over the rim of his glass.

  Lottie shook her head and placed her fork and knife on the plate to signal she was finished. She really did need to leave some space for that delicious looking cake. “I am hardly interesting, Mr. Westbrooke.”

  “I disagree. I think you are extremely interesting.”

  Just then Lord Berkshire rose and addressed the group. “My friends, my lovely new wife tells me it is time for us to cut the wedding cake.” Cheers followed his announcement. Obviously, Lottie and Mr. Westbrooke were not the only ones interested in the sweets.

  “Here, here,” Mr. Westbrooke shouted, holding up his glass of wine.

  “Only one piece for you, Carter,” Lord Berkshire said. He turned to Addie and said sotto voce, “He would eat the entire thing if we let him.”

  Addie and Lord Berkshire each cut a small piece then the cake was whisked off to the kitchen where it would be cut into helpings for the guests. Mr. Westbrooke’s attention had been taken up by Lady Pemberton, the woman on his other side who was a friend of Mrs. Mallory’s, which left Lottie attempting once again to converse with Mr. Filbert.

  She had noticed Addie and her new stepson, who sat on the other side of his father, communicating by moving their hands, which she found fascinating. Addie had told her and Pamela about the method called sign language that Lord Berkshire had learned about and how it had helped his son. She wondered what it would be like for a young lady about to make her debut if she were deaf. It crossed her mind that a school to tea
ch sign language to the hard of hearing, whether from birth or old age, would be quite beneficial in Bath.

  The cake had been served, along with steaming pots of tea. By the time the meal had ended, Lottie felt the need for a nice long walk. She moved her chair back. “Please excuse me,” she mumbled to Mr. Filbert and Mr. Westbrooke.

  Mr. Westbrooke immediately stood. “Are you off to Bath today, Miss Danvers?”

  “No. Lady Pamela and I are staying one more day and then we will take the rail back to Bath tomorrow.”

  “Excellent!”

  She viewed him warily.

  He took her arm and moved her forward. “I say that because I am staying at Lord Berkshire’s home tonight and will return to Bath myself by rail in the morning.”

  She could no longer tell herself he had no interest in her. While it was not something she planned to encourage, it was rather nice to have the attention of a man for a short while. Especially a man as charming and handsome as Mr. Westbrooke.

  Then he confirmed his interest. “Would you care for a stroll before you retire to your bedchamber? I think all that food would digest better after a walk.”

  She hesitated then decided to enjoy herself for once instead of constantly hiding from everything. “Thank you, Mr. Westbrooke. I think a walk is an excellent idea.”

  She took his arm, and they strolled the area around the Mallory townhouse. The air was crisp and clean and raised her spirits considerably.

  “Do you attend the Assemblies in Bath, Miss Danvers?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I never seem to have the time.” She didn’t want to add that it was unseemly for a young woman to attend the Assemblies unescorted. But she feared the response that comment would bring from Mr. Westbrooke.