The Courtesan's Secret by Claudia Dain Read Free Book Online

it?"
    Louisa blanched and then flushed. She could feel the ebb and flow of emotion all over her face and throat.
    "Darling," Sophia said, leaning forward with all the grace of a swan and laying a white hand upon Louisa's arm, "all will be avenged. Trust me to see it done. You shall have your pearls and, upon my word, Dutton shall feel the sting of it."
    "And my past behavior?" Louisa managed to ask. If her devotion to Dutton was obvious to Sophia, then she was of half a mind to speak openly of it. Pearls or not, she meant to have Dutton, and perhaps Sophia could help her more if she better knew her desires.
    "Will remain in the past," Sophia said. " 'Tis a new day, darling, and we will accomplish all your desires. All," she finished with a knowing gleam.
    Then again, it was entirely likely that one did not need to flagrantly discuss such things with a former courtesan. Louisa was more than certain that Sophia knew exactly what she was about.
    Which was entirely the point.

Four
    WITH Hawksworth having fulfilled his purpose and been dispatched, Louisa walked in to her father's house with all the casual innocence of a woman who'd been out shopping and returned home more bored than when she left. It was a fine bit of acting. Not that anyone was around to notice.
    According to Anderson, the butler, her aunt Mary, Lady Jordan was napping. Her father, the Marquis of Melverley, was out, likely at either White's or his current mistress's house on George Street. Of course, as the innocent and unmarried daughter of a marquis, she wasn't supposed to know about such things, but as her father made rather an open habit of having a mistress or two, she didn't suppose she could be blamed for knowing what was obvious to all.
    The only person who was home was the same person who was always home, Louisa's younger sister, Eleanor. There was absolutely no point at all in acting a part with Eleanor as an audience. She was the most jaded cynic Louisa had ever met, and that included the cynical Henry Blakesley. Having Melverley for a father gave one rather a hand up on being cynical.
    Eleanor was in the library, just to the left of the vestibule. It was a massive room, fully the largest in the house, and had the happy situation of being flooded with western light for the better part of the day. But it was not the light that drew Eleanor; it was the books. Row upon row of the most beautifully bound and inexpressibly boring books. Louisa didn't know how Eleanor stood it, being surrounded by so much reading material of the most tedious variety. Why, there was a whole shelf devoted to classical architecture. She knew for a fact that Melverley had bought the books by the crate and for the prettiness of their spines. He had as much care for classical architecture as she did, which was to say, none at all.
    "How's Lord Dutton today?" Eleanor said from her slouch. She was buried in her usual spot, a pile of faded silk cushions cocooning her upon the sofa, a book in her lap.
    "I haven't seen Lord Dutton," Louisa said, plopping down upon the opposite end of the sofa and reaching up to take off her hat.
    "He wasn't in the park?"
    "I would hardly know as I wasn't in the park."
    "Nor on Bond Street?"
    "I did not travel to Bond Street."
    Eleanor put her book completely down and stared at her.
    "What does Lord Henry Blakesley say to this? Isn't it his duty to track Lord Dutton down for you? You shall need to find a new hound, Louisa, if this is the best he can do."
    "Don't be ridiculous, Eleanor," Louisa snapped. "Lord Henry is no such thing."
    "Isn't he?"
    "Naturally not."
    "What have you been doing, Louisa?"
    "I've been calling on...a friend."
    "A... friend?" Eleanor said, tucking her feet up underneath her and dislodging one pale blue pillow from its nest. "Is this friend a man? Don't tell me you went alone . Where's Amelia?"
    "Of course I did not go calling on a man," Louisa said sharply.
    "With or without Amelia, I would never do such a scandalous