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

thing."
    "But you did go without Amelia."
    "She was engaged."
    Eleanor only raised a dark red eyebrow at that rather blatant evasion.
    "You didn't go calling on Lord Dutton, did you?" Eleanor said.
    "Of course not! And I've already told you," Louisa said, "I haven't seen Lord Dutton today."
    "That doesn't mean you couldn't have called on him," Eleanor said matter-of-factly, dipping her head back into her book. "You could have called on him and found him not at home. You then, if you were very silly, might have walked past St. James Street in hopes of seeing him."
    "I would do no such ill-bred thing!" Louisa said. "What nonsense are you reading that gives you such forward and ill-mannered ideas?"
    "Shakespeare," Eleanor said lightly, "but that is not where I get my ideas. You could then have wandered along the edge of Hyde Park, hoping to see Lord Dutton riding by, and having failed at even that, you might then have walked across Park Lane onto Upper Brook Street and knocked upon the door of Dalby House."
    Louisa was standing by this time, her hands clenched into white knots of fury and mortification. Eleanor did not seem at all intimidated, which was precisely what was wrong with Eleanor; she could not be intimidated. A most irregular and even more irritating trait for a younger sister to possess. From what Louisa could gather, younger sisters were supposed to live in absolute terror of their older siblings. Not so Eleanor. It was most, most inconvenient.
    "You followed us," Louisa whispered hoarsely, stating the obvious.
    "And a merry chase it was," Eleanor answered brightly.
    "Alone?" If Eleanor had wandered London without an escort at the tender age of sixteen, her aunt Mary would never forgive her. What her father thought she could hardly have cared less.
    Though she didn't suppose he had to know about it, did he? Let him worry about his mistress. His daughters would, could, and did take care of themselves.
    "Of course not," Eleanor said. "I'm not so foolish as all that. I went with Amelia and two footmen. She didn't want to accompany me, of course, but as I told her rather directly that I would proceed with or without her, I suppose she felt compelled to attend me."
    "I suppose she did," Louisa said crisply, sitting back down on the sofa next to Eleanor. It might have been better said that she col lapsed upon the sofa, not that it mattered. It was patently obvious that she could keep no secret from Eleanor. "I don't know where you get these schemes, Eleanor, to go running about London, spying on your only sister."
    "That bit I suppose I do borrow from Shakespeare," Eleanor said. "So much running about in his comedies. It did sound like fun."
    "I trust you found it wasn't."
    "Not really, no," Eleanor said with a grin. "Following you about was very entertaining, not that Amelia shares my opinion. She was shocked beyond words when you walked past St. James Street. According to her, there is no more efficient way to ruin a woman's reputation. Of course, that was before you went to visit Lady Dalby. What did you do there, Louisa? Is your reputation ruined now?"
    "Hardly," Louisa said, tucking a foot underneath her and sprawling against the arm of the sofa. "In fact, if all goes as it should, it might be the making of me."
    "Really?" Eleanor said, leaning forward and putting her book down once again. "What happened? Was Lord Dutton there?"
    "No, he was not. You do know, Eleanor, that not everything revolves around Lord Dutton."
    To which Eleanor, the imp, only laughed.
    Yes, well, perhaps that was the only response possible to what could only have been termed wishful thinking.
    "What are we laughing about?" Amelia said, entering the library.
    Lady Amelia Caversham, only daughter of the Duke of Aldreth and only sister to the Marquis of Hawksworth, was cousin to Louisa and Eleanor through their Aunt Mary. Mary had been the oldest of a trio of girls who had, according to gossip, taken London by storm twenty-five years