The Accidental Courtesan by Cheryl Ann Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

his eyes he followed her neck downward to her trim back, then to a perfect, graceful rump.
    If this wasn’t his elusive courtesan, she was a nearly perfect replica from behind. The only way to know for certain was to cup her buttocks in his hands. He grinned. He had to wonder about the severity of the pummeling he’d receive from her companion if he tried.
    The woman was in conversation with a tall man in blue who smiled down at her with affection. The two seemed intimately acquainted as she brushed something off the man’s sleeve.
    Gavin scowled. If the man was her lover, it was a complication he didn’t need. If there was an arrangement between the pair, it could be difficult untangling the relationship. With her beauty, she wasn’t the sort of woman a man would give up easily.
    There were bits of memories coming together, a piece at a time. Gavin gnashed his teeth. Though he couldn’t recall everything about last night, he saw enough in the curve of her tiny, delightful ears, and the way she tilted her head slightly when listening to her companion, to gain confidence. He was certain his would-be courtesan tipped her head in just that way. It would take a closer look to confirm his suspicion.
    Eyes narrowed, he began taking a straight path across the space between them. Not wanting to alert her to his presence, he kept the crowd between them until she was steps away, then veered off to circle her and her companion.
    The blur of moving bodies faded as he saw more of her: her bright smile, her husky laugh, and a closer view of her sparkling eyes. She was stunning—and clearly not a courtesan. She was a Lady from head to toe. He didn’t need an introduction to see how well she fit in at this party.
    Still, it didn’t mean she was nobility. Many courtesans could blend quite well into society, as some came from impoverished, albeit well-placed, families.
    Desperation drew many to that life. Others saw it as a place of power in a man’s world. Either way, this woman was no common doxie.
    Gavin watched her place a gloved hand on her companion’s arm a second time, and felt a rush of annoyance pass through him. He wanted to jerk her hand away and drag her from the room. He wanted her touch; he wanted to press his face into her hair to confirm her identity through her scent. To see the intimacy between the pair only succeeded in raising his frustration.
    â€œYou must excuse me, Simon,” she said, leaning in. Her lilting voice carried through the din. It was filled with good humor. “I must find Brenna.”
    Simon? Gavin blinked as she walked away. Given names were seldom used in society. His curiosity rose tenfold as he shook off his musings, locked onto her swinging hips, and headed off in her wake. If she truly was his mysterious would-be courtesan, he intended to get close enough to find out.
    Without her protector looming over her.
    Â 
    N oelle spotted Brenna, clad in dark green satin. Her cousin was deep in conversation with an animated elderly woman who tapped her cane frequently when speaking, as if to prove a point. She decided not to interrupt. She needed a moment alone to collect herself. To find a place out of the crush of bodies in which to breathe in some perfume-free air.
    The evening was warm and the ballroom was stifling. A sheen of perspiration dampened the skin beneath her dress and caused the fabric to itch against her skin. Finding a cool spot to clear her head wouldn’t be too difficult, if she headed for one of the three sets of double doors that led outside.
    Of the three, the set farthest to the right appeared to overlook the darkest part of the terrace. She could slip away for a moment of welcome respite.
    Then a flash of gray caught her attention as someone stepped into her line of vision. Not twenty feet away, blocking the doorway and clad in a dark gray coat, striped waistcoat, and white breeches, was the earl.
    She gasped, and her feet