Page 13 of What a Courtesan Wants
She let out a contented sigh as he began spreading the salve over her inflamed skin, the scents of rosemary, peppermint, and lavender flooding his senses. He massaged the salve in with thorough attention to the places where his fingers had left welts. He took his time, enjoying the supple thighs filling his hands, the tender muscles giving way beneath his thumbs as he stroked his way up toward her arse. She practically purred with contentment, wrapping her arms around a pillow and burying her face in its softness. She seemed half-asleep by the time he was finished, but he wouldn’t allow her to drift off before he’d prepared a compress for her with cool water and witch hazel. This, he placed in her hand, and helped her situate it between her legs to soothe the discomfort there.
Pulling the coverlet up to her shoulder and covering her nude body, he found himself unable to resist a moment of tenderness, using a finger to stroke a heavy lock of hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
“Good night, Lucinda.”
She murmured something unintelligible before drifting off, her long lashes fluttering closed and her body going completely still. Aubrey took his time dressing and ensuring he’d gathered all his things. Then, he took his leave of her without a look back, doing his best to put the woman from his mind until obligation would bring him back to this bedchamber. Try as he might, he couldn’t avoid a niggling of excitement as he thought of all the things that could happen when the time came.
Chapter 4
“Rumor has it, another one of those secret bare-knuckle boxing matches occurred last evening on the fringes of the city. Treating the audience to a barbaric display of violence was none other than the infamous Honourable Mr. S, who seems to scorn his sire with every action. One does wonder when exactly Viscount S intends to come take his wayward son in hand. We wait with bated breath.”
-The London Gossip,19 August 1819
Aubrey crossed his legs and dropped his copy ofThe London Gossiponto the table with a snort of disgust. He’d never taken to perusing the scandal sheets before, but the writer’s vendetta against the Gentleman Courtesans made daily reading a necessity. He and Benedict had agreed to subscribe to the paper hoping to keep abreast of the things being written about them—but also to determine where the sheets originated. Thus far, they’d had the devil of a time identifying the author of the paper. The sheets were delivered to subscribers and coffee houses all over London early each morning by young boys. Benedict had followed one back to a wagon where he’d met with his companions to presumably return to where they’d come from. The following day, he’d taken Aubrey along to follow the wagon in his own carriage. It had stopped to let the boys off in Seven Dials, where they’d jumped down from the conveyance only to be swallowed up in the crowd coming and going from the slum’s seven clogged passages and the dirty fog hanging over it all.
From there, Benedict had declared they ought to leave before they found themselves set upon and robbed—a prospect that would have proved only a minor inconvenience for two men who were adept with their fists. Still, neither wished to linger in such an undesirable part of town on a wild goose chase that might bring them no closer to discovering the identity of the mysterious writer. Besides, after a time it became clear the woman had forgotten her quest to oust them, as not a word had been printed about the courtesans in several weeks. Still, Aubrey couldn’t help the obsessive urge to read each new column for any mention of the agency in case they needed to resume their search.
“Don’t know why you read that rot,” said a woman’s voice with a disdainful sniff.
He glanced up to find Mrs. Eudora Baines shaking her head at him while stuffing a bit of toast into her mouth. Her plump cheeks worked as she chewed, staring down at his copy ofThe London Gossipas if it emitted an offensive odor.
“I think it’s all very fascinating,” Elizabeth chimed in, reaching out to lift the discarded paper.
Her eyes were bright with curiosity as she began to read while taking a sip of tea. Mrs. Baines let out an exclamation of dismay and reached out to rap Elizabeth’s knuckles with a dark, gnarled hand. His niece yelped, the paper fluttering to the floor as she shook fingers tinged pink from the blow, giving her former nanny a glare.
“What was that for?”
Shaking her head, Eudora rose and then crouched to retrieve the paper. “Good girls don’t fill their heads with such rubbish. Half the things printed here isn’t for the likes of one so young, anyway.”
With a huff, Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “It’ll be my birthday soon. Will I be old enough then?”
“No,” Mrs. Baines declared, plopping back into her chair. “And don’t let me catch you sneaking to nab the copies before me or your uncle can get to them.”
Elizabeth gave Aubrey an exasperated look, to which he could only reply with a helpless shrug. While he was the master of their little home, every person under his roof knew who was truly in charge—at least when it came to anything having to do with his niece. The woman was the closest thing Elizabeth had ever had to a mother, and Mrs. Baines took that position in the family very seriously.
“But, Uncle,” Elizabeth argued. “Once I come of age, I will be introduced to people who have knowledge of such matters. You wouldn’t want me to seem ignorant to them, would you?”
Aubrey opened his mouth to offer his opinion, but Mrs. Baines spoke up before he could.
“They’ll think you a smart girl who makes up her own mind instead of filling her head with this nonsense,” she argued, the paper crumpling as she shoved it down into the bodice of her gown.
Aubrey pinched his lips to fight off a smile and gave Elizabeth a look that said, ‘I’m sure you know I won’t be going inthereto retrieve it for you.’ He agreed with the old nanny that Elizabeth shouldn’t make a habit of reading the column. His niece had always been a sweet, biddable young lady, and while he understood that more exposure to the world might change that over time, he didn’t want to see her become catty and prone to indulging in gossip. There would be enough of it surrounding her once she began making the acquaintance of those of the merchant class and their offspring. Though not as well off or as lofty as theton, they existed in their own sphere of society, one in which talk of the latest scandals was just as rampant.
“Finish your breakfast,” Mrs. Baines said to Elizabeth. “Then you’ll go dress for our outing.”
The two had an appointment with a dressmaker this morning. For several months, they’d been preparing for a coming out of sorts. He’d host a small party for her and invite those of his friends with daughters of an age with Elizabeth, as well as prospective suitors. She’d already made the acquaintance of several of them, but this would mark a special occasion for his niece and launch her into the world as a woman on the hunt for a husband. There would be no grand coming out or balls or any such thing, but the way Mrs. Baines carried on one would think the girl would be making atondebut. Everything must be perfect, and that included ensuring Elizabeth had a wardrobe of new, grown-up attire to match the status of young lady instead of girl.
A tightness seized Aubrey’s chest as he watched Elizabeth eat, her movements graceful and deft, her lovely face serene. He’d hardly thought himself up to the task of raising a child when his sister and her husband had suddenly died, but had risen to the occasion out of necessity. She’d been the center of his life for so long, he could hardly fathom how he would get on once she left him to marry. He had no other blood relations, though he counted Mrs. Baines as a motherly figure of sorts. He supposed the two of them would have to carry on once his ward had left his care. Marriage and children of his own had ceased being a priority for him years ago, and he’d stopped attempting any of it, deciding to devote his life to caring for the young girl who had become like a daughter to him. Once she’d gone off to make a life for herself, he’d find contentment in being a great uncle to her eventual children and looking after Mrs. Baines until she inevitably succumbed to old age.
What else?
The thought dropped into his mind so suddenly it startled him, and he frowned. He’d never worried much over the future, being content with things as they lay before him. But, as Elizabeth’s eighteenth birthday loomed closer, he supposed it was natural to wonder what he might do with his life next. He supposed he’d have a better idea once all was said and done. In the meantime, there was no need putting the cart before the horse. Elizabeth had to make a match first, which he hoped would take time. He wanted her to be careful in her selection, or even wait for a love match if she desired such a thing.
Aubrey was jarred out of that train of thought when his housekeeper appeared in the doorway to announce Benedict. The women gasped at the sight of him—impeccably dressed and sporting a fresh shave but flaunting a battered face. His left eye was edged with a dark purple ring and swelling below the lid, his jaw in similar shape, while a cut showed at the corner of his mouth.
“That bad, is it?” he teased, removing his hat to reveal another bruise above one eyebrow. “Apologies for visiting you in such a state, but there is a matter I must speak to Aubrey about. How are you this morning, Mrs. Baines? Lizzy, if it’s at all possible you grow more beautiful every time I see you.”
Aubrey stood to greet his friend while Mrs. Baines murmured something that sounded like disapproval of Benedict’s battered face.
