Page 30 of A Courtesan Countess Worth the Scandal
“No offense, Lord Keswick, but starving isn’t really my main concern right now.” Nora gestured to the darkness. “Where there are three miscreants, you can bet there’ll be more.” She tilted her face up to the sky. “And I can smell snow.”
“Pardon?” Liam blinked at her.
She laughed softly. “In an hour from now, snow will start to fall. You just watch.”
“I do not think that you cansmellsnow, Miss Black,” he retorted. “And it will not fall while there is fog in the air, for there will be too much moisture.”
Nora shrugged. “Be that as it may, itisgoing to snow, and I’d rather not be out here in the cold when it does. I might not be the young woman I once was, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to end it all by freezing to death in a ditch.”
She wandered off without waiting for him, giving him little choice but to run after her. After all, she might have been a courtesan—a woman that went against everything he believed in—but shehadsaved his life. And he did not fancy freezing to death in the middle of nowhere, either.
Chapter Thirteen
Plowing through the darkness, picking her way along the muddied trail, Nora was glad she had thought to pack a candle and matches in her satchel. The highwaymen had not managed to steal her manuscript or her bag, though she fully believed they would have done, if Lord Keswick had not interrupted. Among other crimes.
“Must you stride so far ahead? I am injured!” Lord Keswick complained, as he struggled to stay within the perimeter of the candle’s glow without getting too close to her. She had seen gentlemen act that way before, as if they could somehow catch indiscretion from her, or her very presence would pollute their thoughts.
Nora smiled. “Are you a religious man, Lord Keswick?”
“I have my faith,” he replied. “Though I do not see what that has to do with you walking too fast or my being injured, unless you are thinking to conjure some whimsical metaphor about remaining within the light.”
Nora cast him a sidelong glance. “I wasn’t thinking that, but I imagine you deem me unworthy to stand in such a light, if Iwere.”
“I did not say that.” His hand brushed against hers and he physically recoiled.
“You don’t have to, when your discomfort speaks volumes,” she said. “You act as though I am a leper, and you may contract some kind of disease from me. I assure you, I am in good health, and I also have my faith—though I suspect yours is more stringent than mine.”
He snorted. “I suspect so, too.”
She noticed he did not try to argue her notion that he thought her contagious, although he had certainly heard her.
“May I ask you something?” Nora had been curious since they had begun their walk toward some kind of shelter. Though, as of yet, there seemed to be no sign of such a welcome thing.
Lord Keswick frowned. “I suppose you may.”
“Would you have rescued me if you knew who I was?” She paused. “You rescued me from Lord Westleigh without hesitation, but I can’t be sure that you knew who I was, back then. I’m curious how far your faith stretches when it comes to being a good Samaritan.”
Lord Keswick turned his gaze down at the churned-up ground. “I knew of you, in very vague terms, at Fontaine’s. And though I know more of you, now, I still would have acted the way I did, if I thought you were in peril. Although… I did not actually know it was you until you said so, due to all of that dirt upon your face.”
“And how, pray tell, do you know more of me?” she teased, for she was well aware of the stir her scandal sheets had caused. Of course, that first story had not contained her name, but it did not have to. Everyone knew she was the “Butterfly of London.”
Lord Keswick stiffened awkwardly. “Uh… acquaintances of mine told me of you,” he explained, avoiding her eyes. “In truth, I probably do not know much more about you, but I still would not have ridden by and left you in their hands.”
“So, you aren’t one of these gentlemen who believes that a courtesan is a generic whore, who is there for anyone’s taking?” She knew she was being blunt, but she wanted to gauge the morality of this man.
His shoulders hunched. “I do not profess to know anything of courtesans or… ladies of the night, or what the difference is between the many terms for such employment.” He swallowed loudly. “I disagree with it on the grounds of its affect on fidelity, but I also think it is a man’s duty to resist temptations. Indeed, it is every spouse’s duty, for I know it is not only the gentlemen who can betray.”
His voice became tight, piquing Nora’s curiosity. She had spent enough time speaking with men to understand the nuances in their tones, and this particular strain suggested he was carrying some hurt of his own. It did not take a genius to put the pieces together, and realize that hurt probably came from an infidelity. She knew, all too well, the sound of heartbreak.
“That is why I offer only companionship,” she insisted. “Your beliefs and mine are not too dissimilar, though I don’t suppose you will believe me. I do not want another woman’s husband to use my body in order to purge some unspent desire; I seek only to bolster a man’s confidence and to speak of things that he likely can’t tell his wife, so he may improve as a husband. In many ways, I am more of a friend than a lover.”
Lord Keswick sniffed. “Do not pretend you are at their side to be their acquaintance. You accompany them because they pay you, and they pay you well. If they did not, you would not pursue this employment, though I cannot understand why you continue when it appears to be so dangerous. Is their coin really worth the risk that comes with it?”
“Spoken like someone who has never had to worry for money in their life.” Nora’s expression hardened. She could understand being judged for the nature of what she did, but she would never take kindly to someone wealthy scorning her for improving her finances. What hadhisancestors done to make their wealth? Fortune did not come from nowhere, and she would have wagered a decent sum that his had come at the price of others, somewhere along the line.
He gaped at her. “I am certain there are other ways to amass money.”
“Again, spoken like agentlemanwho has never had to worry for money in their life, or known what it is to be a lone woman in this world,” she retorted. “We can’t go to Eton or Harrow even though we might be clever enough. We can’t attend a university unless we come from wealth, and we can’t become lawyers and doctors, or there would be men rioting in the streets.”
