The Accidental Courtesan Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Teaser chapter

  The Pleasures of Impropriety . . .

  In spite of her terror, she managed to say, “Your Lordship, this is highly improper.”

  If she panicked, she could lose everything: her reputation, her freedom, and perhaps even her life.

  “I shall show you improper,” the stranger whispered, humor edging his voice. He removed the hand from her bum and slid it up her body in a quick exploratory caress. Then he shoved his fingers into her tightly braided hair, pulled her face down to his, and slammed his mouth awkwardly over hers . . .

  Berkley Sensation Titles by Cheryl Ann Smith

  THE SCHOOL FOR BRIDES

  THE ACCIDENTAL COURTESAN

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

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  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

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  South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  THE ACCIDENTAL COURTESAN

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / October 2011

  Copyright © 2011 by Cheryl Ann Smith.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN : 978-1-101-54483-9

  BERKLEY SENSATION®

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To Duane, Paige, Regan, and Ethan, I love you guys.

  And finally to Joan Smith and Joan Cole:

  Thanks for your infectious enthusiasm!

  Acknowledgments

  First I’d like to thank everyone at Berkley Publishing for all the wonderful work they do. I’d especially like to thank my editor, Wendy McCurdy, for lifting my books to another level, and to Katherine Pelz, who is quick to answer a question or offer encouragement. I appreciate your patience and support! And to George Long, Jim Griffin, and the entire Berkley art department, you guys do fantastic work. My covers are stunning. Thank you so much!

  As always, thank you, Kevan, for everything you do for me.

  When I first started writing, I knew nothing about the publishing business. For teaching me so many things, I’d like to thank Romance Writers of America and the Greater Detroit RWA chapter. I’m always amazed by the camaraderie and giving nature of my fellow writers. There have been so many people throughout the years who’ve been quick to give helpful advice and the benefit of their wisdom or just made me laugh. For that, I appreciate you all so much and plan to pay it forward.

  Chapter One

  Lady Noelle Seymour wobbled slightly on the trellis and bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Two stories up, the redbrick town house appeared much taller than when she’d decided to go through with this ill-conceived plan and had slipped across the lawn and into the shadows of the building like a sneak thief. Still, the intrigue of a grand adventure had trumped any final hesitation as she donned a pair of black, rolled-up trousers and matching shirt and set off for the Mayfair town house of the Earl of Seabrook.

  She weaved her hands through the scratchy climbing vines and held the trellis in a viselike grip. If her sister Eva, Her Grace, knew what she was doing this evening, she would hand Noelle’s head back to her on a platter.

  Yet, she forced herself onward. Prickles of excitement were twisting through her. She was no longer a proper lady from a good family, but an adventuress without the encumbrance of society’s rules. For this night, anyway, and she’d not let fear or common sense ruin her outrageous adventure.

  Tomorrow she’d be tucked back in her corsets and stockings with no one the wiser. Prim, if not quite proper, Lady Noelle.

  Tentatively, Noelle extended a toe toward the window ledge, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Once her foot found a firm place, she removed one hand from the trellis and clutched the windowsill in a death grip. If she fell, it would be more than broken bones or possible death that faced her. If she were discovered breaking into the married Seabrook’s house, in the middle of the night and dressed like a boy, the scandal would ruin her forever in the eyes of the Ton.

  Mother would bury her so deep in the country, she’d shrivel up, dry and crackled, like a neglected daisy deprived of water and sunlight.

  Noelle grimaced and brushed a leafy twig away from her chin with her gloved hand.

  Death would be preferable to the shame of being sent off in exile. If she plummeted to the ground, she’d pray she landed headfirst and died instantly.

  “Almost there,” she muttered for courage, and slid her foot across the narrow stone ledge. Ever so slowly, she eased her body to the right, skimming her belly against brick; she was thankful the town house was blessedly quiet.

  The earl was in Bath with his wife, according to gossip. This gave Noelle enough time to retur
n the stolen necklace and save Bliss from prison or, worse yet, hanging.

  Beautiful Bliss. The girl had the sense of a donkey.

  Noelle smiled wryly. Clearly, at this moment, both were superior to her in intelligence. Neither courtesan nor donkey was about to commit a crime that might well land her into the cell adjoining Bliss’s at the horrible Newgate Prison.

  For an instant, Noelle considered which was worse: exile by her mother or getting caught by the Bow Street Runners and spending years in Newgate. Knowing Mother as she did, she’d almost prefer the latter.

  Still, it was too late for regrets. The darkened window loomed before her. In a few minutes the item would be safely returned and she’d be on her way home.

  Gingerly, she leaned on her right foot to test the strength of the ledge and reached for the window. She whispered a brief prayer, flattened her palms against the painted wood frame, and pushed the window up. Relief flooded through her as it opened easily with only a slight scraping sound.

  She’d not have to fumble along the ledge to find a second or third unlocked window. Clearly, His Lordship didn’t expect anyone to make such a perilous climb to steal his valuables.

  With extreme caution, she poked her head into the room to make sure it was empty, then stepped gingerly inside. In the blackness, she heard nothing to cause her alarm. No snoring, no shifting of a body on a bed. The space was blessedly quiet, and she pulled in a deep soothing breath to loosen the tightness in her chest.

  According to Bliss, either this room or the one next to it belonged to the earl. The girl wasn’t certain which, as she’d been distracted during her brief visit by the amorous attentions of the earl. Though he kept a separate and smaller town house for his courtesans, he’d smuggled Bliss into his home some months ago, while his wife was enjoying the soothing waters of Bath.

  With outstretched arms, Noelle walked around the room, searching for the bed and the blue coverlet that would assure her she was in the right room. If she was to return the necklace and lead the earl to believe it had only been misplaced and not stolen by his former courtesan, she had to put it in a place where he could easily “discover” it as soon as he returned.

  A task that turned out to be easier said than accomplished.

  The blasted room was too dark! Not even the moon offered its cooperation, as it remained well hidden behind the blanketing storm clouds. Lightning would certainly help, yet it also failed to make an appearance.

  Luckily, she soon found the massive bed. The coverlet was dark blue, or black, or even a deep green. She lifted the fabric to her nose to squint at it close up, fairly certain now that it was green.

  Blast! With no time to linger, Noelle dropped the coverlet and fumbled across the room. With outstretched hands, she felt around for a door, then eased it open. Once in the dark hallway, she followed the wall to the next room. The panel creaked softly as she pushed the door open. She froze.

  When no alarm sounded, she rushed inside and softly clicked the door closed behind her. The space was even blacker than the first room. Perhaps she should have waited for a cloudless night with a full moon before venturing out.

  “You can do this, Noelle,” she whispered. “Find the bed, make sure this is the right room, and get out.”

  She stumbled around the room, arms swinging in wide sweeps. Eventually, she knocked into a small table and beside it found the bed. Sheer luck kept her from upending a lamp. She leaned to squint at the coverlet.

  Was it blue? Frustration mounted. She’d have to drag it over to the window and pray for a slip of moonlight to know for certain. Remaking the bed afterward would also be difficult in the dark. The maids would be suspicious if they found the bed in disarray and would report the incident to the earl. If the Bow Street Runners got involved, she could be in serious trouble.

  In a case like this, desperate measures were required. She’d worry about the bed once the necklace was returned.

  Noelle rounded the bed to the area closest to the window. She had both fists gripped around the corner of the coverlet when an arm snaked out of the darkness and jerked her down on the bed.

  “Oh!” she cried sharply, bouncing against a hard body before catching herself. “Release me!” she said in her deepest tone. A hand clamped over her bum, and she was dragged across a warm and naked chest; a naked and very male chest, by the feel of downy hair covering the firm, sinewy expanse.

  The effort to sound mannish was rewarded with a low chuckle and a mumbled reply: “No man smells so sweet or has such delightful curves, love. Now give me a kiss.”

  A kiss? She couldn’t see anything, though her captor’s breath brushed the side of her face. It had to be the earl. This was his house. But what was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Bath!

  Think! Think!

  In spite of her terror, she managed to say, “Your Lordship, this is highly improper.”

  If she panicked, she could lose everything: her reputation, her freedom, and perhaps even her life.

  “I shall show you improper,” the stranger whispered, humor edging his voice. He removed the hand from her bum and slid it up her body in a quick exploratory caress. Then he shoved his fingers into her tightly braided hair, pulled her face down to his, and slammed his mouth awkwardly over hers!

  Noelle stilled, her arms pinned against her sides. His firm mouth moved about for the correct position in the dark until he found it, fully claiming her with a searing kiss.

  He teased her with his exotic scent and warmth, and her limbs turned to hot pudding. Shocked to find a rising tide of tingles in her body, she opened her mouth to demand a stop to the kiss. Instead of release, the bold stranger pushed his tongue between her teeth, and she tasted a hint of some unnamed spirit. The earl felt strong and untamed beneath her, unlike any of the tepid noblemen of her acquaintance. Beneath her open palms, his bare skin was warm and supple, and his thigh rested, hard and wrapped with thick muscle, between her legs.

  A flood of desire poured through her body, and she went slack. She’d never been kissed like this before! This was no casual peck on the mouth, but the kind of kiss one shared with a lover.

  Her virginal mind went blank as he rolled her onto her back and partially covered her with his upper body and a leg over her knees.

  Why wasn’t she fighting him? She should definitely be fighting him. But her body seemed unwilling to push him off. Suddenly, a horrified Noelle realized her arms were around his neck and she was hungrily returning his kiss!

  “So sweet,” he mumbled, breaking the kiss and trailing his mouth down to nuzzle the base of her throat. There was something about him, his voice, that didn’t sound correct in her ears. Thankfully, it forced some reality into the situation. She felt a prickle of danger from this man and knew that if she didn’t get out of the bed immediately, she’d lose much more than her freedom in the blackened room.

  He slackened his hold briefly to shift their positions, and Noelle took the opportunity to give him a great shove. The earl fell back in the bed, far enough to allow her to roll out from under him and scramble to her feet. She bumped into a piece of furniture—a dressing table, she suspected—and had sense enough to pull the necklace out of her pocket. The color of the coverlet no longer mattered. This was clearly the earl’s room.

  She heard the earl climb from the bed, and she dropped the necklace on the table’s smooth surface with a muted clink. She was disoriented by the kiss and the darkness. She wasn’t sure which way the door was. All she knew was that she had to get out before he reclaimed her.

  The sound of his bare feet moved away from her, and she heard him clatter around for a moment. Bright red coals sputtered to life as fire licked the sticks he’d dropped atop them. Quickly, the room became infused with muted light.

  Noelle knew her chance for escape was upon her. She looked frantically for the door and launched herself toward the oak panel. A few steps and she’d be free!

  “Halt,” he commanded behind her, and she jolted to a stop
. Slowly she spun about, fists upraised, and braced herself to fight for both her freedom and her innocence.

  “You are not a maid,” he said, narrowing his lids. There was no obvious explanation for her odd dress and boyish appearance. “I’ve stumbled upon a thief.”

  Fear chilled her limbs. She was about to be arrested. She was a criminal, a thief. No magistrate would believe that she’d come not to steal but to return the earl’s stolen property.

  There had to be a way out of this predicament.

  The fire rose higher, and she got her first good look at the half-naked earl. Her breath caught.

  He was wearing unbuttoned black trousers that sagged low on his narrow hips to a shockingly indecent degree. It was painfully clear he had nothing on beneath. Any sort of shift and the trousers could fall to his knees, leaving him without coverage altogether.

  She flushed and pulled her eyes away from the thin trail of hair pointing downward beneath his waistband, to the most incredible chest she’d ever had the fortune to gaze upon. Well, truthfully, she’d never had the opportunity to see a male chest close up. Her experience was limited to one brief glimpse of a tenant’s son in a distant field. Still, she was certain the earl’s was magnificent in comparison to other men’s.

  There was very little about Bliss’s hasty description to recommend him as His Lordship. But Bliss had been nearly hysterical when she’d described what she’d done, so Noelle had taken everything she said with a bit of skepticism.

  Indeed, this man was as tall as Bliss had described, but he didn’t have the pale skin of the gentry. His sculpted torso was a golden bronze, as if he’d spent all his time, shirtless, in the sun. His hair was light brown and streaked through by the sunlight that had darkened his flesh.