Julia Justiss - The Courtesan

After subjecting her to a searching second inspection, he found his initial awe magnified. Truly, in appearance she seemed perfection, as if the most skilled of Greek sculptors had crafted the very image of a goddess and then breathed life into it. Though the scandalous man’s attire she wore fitted her loosely, there was no mistaking the amplitude of the curves tantalizingly concealed beneath that excess of cloth.

Jack found himself imagining her garbed in classical draperies, her slender arms and toes bare, the fine linen of the chemise outlining, rather than concealing, the shape of her breasts and thighs. Desire tightened his body, rose in a flush of heat to clog his throat.

Idiot, he chastised, making himself look away. The last thing he needed was to fall under the spell of this courtesan, who probably made demands as limitless as her beauty and possessed a heart as warm as the marble from which that Grecian sculptor would have crafted her.

“She doesn’t appear to be worried,” he said, his tone sharper than he’d intended. “Has anyone ever bested her?”

“Not yet,” Aubrey admitted. “But that doesn’t stop men from fighting for a chance to try. Now, they’re beginning.”

At that moment, the fencing master pointed an imperious thumb at one of the men. Muttering their disappointment, the other contenders quit the floor.

The fencers took their places. In a few moments, with considerably more ease—and decidedly more disdain—than she’d displayed against her instructor, Lady Belle disarmed the challenger and knocked him to the floor.

She looked up from her vanquished opponent, her face expressionless, her intense blue eyes scanning the crowd. By chance, her gaze crossed Jack’s. Connected. Held.

The force of it sent a vibration through Jack, raised the tiny hairs at the back of his neck. For a long moment they simply stared at each other, until abruptly, Lady Belle jerked her gaze away.

Ignoring the babble of masculine voices calling out to her, she stepped around her humbled opponent, bowed to the fencing master and strode from the room.

SUPPRESSING A SHIVER, Belle forced herself to walk with calm, even strides to the door. A bold fellow, that tall, thin, dark-haired officer whose scarlet regimentals had drawn her eye—and whose gaze had commanded hers, as if by right. She didn’t recognize him, which meant he must be newly come to London.

Probably another bored hanger-on, amusing himself by watching the latest show. Botheration, how she wished those useless fribbles would leave her in peace!

She’d already refused Lord Rupert half a dozen times and turned down a score of other offers in extremely blunt terms. How could she make it any plainer that she had no intention of accepting carte blanche from any of them?

Not now that she was free. Free! Even after a month, the realization still sent her spirits soaring. After six and a half long, painful, humiliating years, the shreds of what remained of her life now belonged solely to her. Even if she had no clear idea as of yet what she meant to do with it. Except, she thought, smiling with grim satisfaction as she recalled her challenger facedown on the floor, train herself so that she was never again at any man’s mercy.

Her companion, Mae, a plump older woman with faded blond ringlets, cheerful blue eyes and a gown whose scandalously low cut clearly proclaimed her former occupation, waited in the anteroom to help her change. “Good lesson?” Mae asked.

“Yes,” Belle answered as she stripped off her men’s garments. “Armaldi made some suggestions about adjusting my stance that improved my thrust nicely.”

“Must have made quick work of your challenger,” Mae replied, handing Belle her gown. “Who was it this time?”

“Wexley. The man fences like a turnip. Wooden wrists, poor form, no grasp of strategy. Fortunately for the security of England, he was never in the army.”

That comment called up the image of the dark-eyed captain and something stirred in her chest. No, she told herself, pushing the vision away, she was not curious.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Mae said, pulling a sealed note from her reticule. “A boy brought this for you.”

While Mae fastened the buttons down her back, Belle scanned the missive. “It’s from Smithers, my solicitor, requesting that I call at my earliest convenience.” She frowned, wondering what had prompted the unusual summons. “I suppose I can stop on my way home.”

“Whatever do you think he wants, Belle?” Mae asked a bit anxiously. “He handles your finances, don’t he? I hope…I hope there’s nothing amiss.”

“You needn’t worry. I reviewed the accounts with him just last month, and the investments are performing well.”

“You’re so clever, I expect you’re right. Funds and investments!” The older lady shook her head. “In my day, we dealt in jewels, gowns and carriages. Are you sure it wouldn’t be safer to accept another offer? So many you’ve had this month! And some of the gentlemen quite charming.”

Having already responded to this question on numerous occasions, Belle had to struggle to keep a sharp edge out of her voice. “For years I’ve saved every penny and had Smithers place the funds in the most reliable of investments. We shall not run out of blunt, and the house and its furnishings are deeded to me outright. I don’t need another protector.”

“I know you weren’t too happy with Lord B, but surely you could find one more to your liking. You can’t really mean to live without a man.”

Her patience wearing thin, Belle snapped back, “Why do you continue urging me to take a lover? You should know how unreliable are their vows of devotion!”

“Oh, in my youth, ’twas me what was fickle, leaving one for another when I had a better offer. But toward the last…” Mae sighed. “You mustn’t fault Darlington for his lack of constancy. I was getting older, and ’tis the way of the world for men to prefer a younger woman.”

A world I need no longer inhabit, Belle thought defiantly. But contrite now over her loss of temper, she said, “Pray forgive me for chiding you! ’Twas truly Darlington’s loss, for he could have found no one to replace you with so sweet a temper or generous a heart.”

Mae smiled at Belle, her eyes misty. “You’re a dear child, and I don’t know what I should have done, had you not taken me in when he cast me off. I wasn’t as wise as you over the years, and after I’d sold all my jewels…”

“You were the only woman who treated me kindly, that first year Bellingham brought me to town, when I thought I should die of loneliness.” And shame, she added silently. “And have ever been a true friend. Besides, who advised me to make the best of my lot and accept all the gifts Bellingham showered on me, stashing them away for later use? We owe our wealth today to that wise counsel.”

“Well, ’tis good of you to say so,” Mae replied, “but I wouldn’t know a fund from a trust, and that’s a fact.”

“Enough of that! Would you like to stop for ices while I visit the lawyer? I should count it a great favor if you would take the carriage at the front and go to Gunter’s while I slip out the back. As soon as I saw the crush in the ballroom today I asked Meadows to summon me a hackney. I’d rather not have a crowd following me.”

A great lover of sweets, Mae brightened at the suggestion. “Are you sure you’d not like to meet me there? We could stop by the lawyer’s after.”

“No, for wherever my carriage goes now, the most annoying throng gathers. Besides, looking as fetching as you do in that new gown, I image some admirers will stop to flirt with you. Darlington will burn with remorse.”

“Red always did become me, and if I do say so, I’ve kept my figure. The most magnificent breasts in London, they used to say, and you’re still quite handsome, aren’t you, my pretties?” she crooned, patting her ample bosom, the powdered top of which bulged above the low bodice of her scarlet dress. “Seeing how Frederic threw me over for that chit out of the opera—the most grasping, coldhearted little strumpet you could imagine—I like to believe he did come to regret his choice.”