Читать книгу The Virgin Courtesan - Michelle Kelly - Страница 9

Chapter Two

Juliana woke with her head spinning and her vision foggy, clutching desperately at the threads of her memory as she tried to ascertain where she was.

She was in a less than comfortable bed in what appeared to be a plain but functional room. Not Lord Salter’s then. Yet as she came to awareness she realised she was dressed only in her chemise. Where was her dress? Her purse?

With a start she remembered the highwayman and sat bolt upright, heart hammering. He stood at the other end of the room with his back to her, poking at a fire in a small grate. Juliana glanced at the door. Of course it was barred, and furthermore the scoundrel had wedged a chair up under the handle. To prevent her rescue? With a rush of terror she contemplated the idea that the thief had mistaken her for a fine ton lady and intended to hold her to ransom. If that was the case, what would he do when he discovered that wasn’t an option?

Shaking, Juliana lowered herself quietly before he turned and saw her awake. She must gather her wits. Although she was in her underwear, she appeared untouched, so he had not tried to ravish her at least. Struggling to piece together her recollections, Juliana had to wonder why on earth a highwayman would hold up the stage and abduct the traveller. She had never heard of such a thing. Had he struck her, rendered her unconscious and carried her back here? Wherever here was.

No. Juliana remembered with a stab of disgust that she had fainted. Swooned, like any jingle-brained young lady with less sense than she had been born with. Right into the arms of a dangerous criminal, no less. Which only deepened the puzzle; why had he brought her here? If he had been intent on ravishment she doubted he would go to the trouble of bringing her to a room. It looked to be an inn rather than anybody’s home. He must have simply seen an opportunity, once she had rendered herself helpless, to kidnap and ransom a woman he assumed to be a connected lady. Surely he would have recognised her status by her attire, but then Juliana had to concede that there were many fashionable young women who attended the theatre in dress that would rival any courtesan’s, swapping their thin chemisettes for a bare décolleté. The lining of the pelisse Rose had loaned her was very fine, as was the lace on her dress and her gloves. It might have been an easy mistake to make, particularly in the dark.

Juliana closed her eyes and lay still as she heard him approach the bed. As the scoundrel leaned over her, she fought not to whimper with fear and betray herself. She tensed, swearing she would claw his eyes out if he made any attempt to touch her. In spite of her fear, however, she could not help but be acutely aware of the nearness of him and the very smell of him. Clean and crisp, but unmistakably male. She heard him straighten and couldn’t prevent herself breathing out in a sharp sigh of relief.

‘You are awake, madam.’ A statement, not a question. Juliana opened her eyes, glaring at him to try to conceal her fear.

He still wore his mask, though he had taken off his hat and cape, and once again she couldn’t fail to notice how handsome he was, with dark hair and full lips at odds with his strong jaw. He had a fine, manly figure, too, with those broad shoulders and long thighs. Juliana swallowed, struggling to compose herself and rid her mind of such nonsense. She must have hit her head when she swooned, she reasoned.

The man smiled at her and stepped back. ‘Would you care for some food?’

Juliana stared. Sitting up, pulling the covers over her chest, she demanded in what she hoped were imperious tones, ‘Why have you brought me here? Where is the coach driver?’

He looked almost amused at her tone. ‘It was not my intention to scare you. When you fainted I lifted you out of the coach, hoping the fresh air would wake you. The coachman drove off—there are many cowards abroad this night—and when I couldn’t rouse you, I could hardly leave you out there.’

‘And my clothes?’

He nodded towards the fire. Sure enough her cloak, gown and corset had been carefully laid out to dry, and her gloves lay on the chair, neatly folded with her fan on top. There was no sign of her purse, however. But he had taken some care of her. She tried to push away the thought of him undressing her with those strong hands while she lay helpless in his arms. Could he truly be after a ransom? How long before he realised there was no one to ransom her to? Her mind whirled with dreadful possibilities.

The highwayman went to the fire again, glancing back at her. ‘Would you care for a small gin? It will warm you. Don’t worry—I shan’t poison you.’ He sounded almost mocking, and Juliana bristled. Biting her lip to prevent a retort, she nodded mutely.

She saw him glance at her breasts, a flash of desire showing in his eyes through the mask, as she dropped the covers to take the drink from him, and snatched them up again with her free hand. He arched an eyebrow above his mask.

‘So modest? I wouldn’t have thought a woman of your, ah, sensitivities would have such a care.’

Juliana gasped, the colour rushing to her cheeks. So he did know. Perhaps that was why he had brought her here and made sure of her welfare, hoping for an easy seduction in return for his kindness. Although he didn’t look like a man who would need to go to such lengths to get himself a woman, he must have women throwing themselves at him, in fact, but nothing else made any sense. She gulped at her drink, swallowing down her anger at his comment, and the image that flashed in her mind of him seducing her here on this bed. In spite of his current solicitous attitude, she had to remember he was dangerous, and probably unpredictable. She drank more of the gin, even though she knew it would do little to calm her nerves.

‘You were on your way to an assignation, I presume?’ he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and eyeing her with an inscrutable expression. Juliana curled up her legs away from him, praying he would not try to make any moves on her, not least because in her befuddled state she could not be sure of her own reaction. She had no idea how she was going to get herself out of this situation, but she was determined she would use her mind rather than her body. As she nodded at him, she was acutely aware of his proximity, of his weight on the bed next to her, and couldn’t resist the risk of appraising him from underneath her eyelashes. He really was a magnificent figure of a man. His lawn shirt and boots were finer than she would expect to see on such a rogue, and he was well spoken and clean shaven. She was reminded again of the ‘gentleman highwaymen’ she had heard tell of. Men with fine dress and impeccable manners who were courteous to their victims unless provoked. Maybe he was one such. Not that it made his profession any less abhorrent. But then, she thought as she sipped her gin, what would polite society say about hers? The ladies of Covent Garden were hardly held in any esteem, no matter how fashionable their dress. Perhaps she should not be so quick to judge this strange man, but she wasn’t fool enough to believe his intentions were honourable.

‘Yes,’ she said in a matter-of-fact way, ‘a new patron.’ She neglected to say ‘first’. It was no business of his, and if he did plan on seducing her, she had no way of knowing if her virginity would dampen his desire or enflame it.

A glimmer of something that almost looked like disappointment flickered in his dark eyes. He had not been so sure of her then. Juliana decided to be forthright. She had done enough swooning like a silly chit for one night, and doubted he would be the type of man to be moved by tears or pleading.

‘Why am I here, sir, and for what purpose?’

He looked surprised, then approving. ‘As I said, madam, I could hardly in conscience leave you alone on the road, unconscious. I did not know if you had merely fainted or were perhaps ill. As it was my fault for startling you...’

‘Startling me?’ Juliana erupted, the gin and indignation making her brave. ‘You held up my coach! With a pistol! You have robbed me. And now you expect me to believe you are a man of any conscience?’

She was amazed to see he looked almost ashamed. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

‘You are right,’ he admitted, ‘I cannot expect you to believe that. But I mean you no harm. My intention was to relieve you of your purse only.’ As if to prove his point he removed his mask, tossing it to one side carelessly.

Juliana snorted, averting her eyes. He was even more attractive without the covering. His eyes were dark and long lashed, and full of secrets she could only guess at. Nevertheless, she must not betray her attraction to him.

‘Relieve me, you mean steal from me.’ Not that there had been a great deal in it; enough to play a few games of whist with Lord Salter. She eyed the highwayman with suspicion. ‘Did you use my purse to pay for this room?’

He had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I did. I had no other funds to hand.’

‘Clearly not a good night for you then. Perhaps tomorrow night you will have the luck to hold up a stagecoach with more wealthy travellers than myself!’

He stood up abruptly, looking angry now, and Juliana shrank back. His presence was commanding; she could tell he was used to being obeyed, and she was suddenly frightened of his reaction to her furious words. But he turned away, stalking to the door and looking back at her with a face devoid of emotion.

‘I will fetch refreshments. You are of course, free to leave, though I would warn you it is very late. If you can stand my company until the morning, I will see that you get to wherever you need to go safely. I will not harm you. You have my word...for whatever that is worth.’