A Haughty Courtesan, page 12
After one month, he returned to London. The household was preparing a feast for the dinner party his mother had arranged. He was tired and weary from the journey, but he knew there would be no rest for him even if he went to his comfortable bed.
A courtesan had snatched away his peace of mind. His every waking moment was occupied with thoughts of Rose who was now mistress of another man and could never become his.
During the dinner, he avoided engaging the guests in long conversations and mostly kept to himself. If the others observed the changes in him, they kept their opinion to themselves... well, all except Robert.
“Rose is beautiful, but I don’t see what others see in her,” Robert said when he approached William. “She is a harlot. A highly paid one, but still just a harlot.”
Robert was the only one who knew about his secret. Robert had known about it since the day he left in a hurry and left Robert at Lord Doris’ house.
His friend knew him deeper than he realized.
“To see what so special about her, you need eyes of a true admirer,” William answered.
Robert scoffed. “You are a poet at heart.”
William smiled and shook his head in disbelief. Only Robert could make him forget his pain for a few moments. Robert was a good friend and he was lucky to have him in his life.
“Don’t let my father catch you spilling such atrocities,” William said good-humoredly.
Robert leaned against the nearby pillar lazily and swirled his drink in the glass all the while avoiding eye contact. William knew instantly that Robert was sent by his father to fetch him.
“Speaking of, your father asked me to inquire why his heir is hiding in a corner instead of mingling with the crowd.”
He could make countless excuses and weave lies, but the main reason for hiding in a corner was to avoid Rose. He knew Lord Doris would be attending the dinner with his mistress. He was also aware that one look at that beautiful face would break his resolve and he might do something stupid. He might confess to loving her and ruin the blissful life she was no doubt enjoying in the arms of Lord Doris.
“I don’t feel like meeting the nobility,” William said. “I am tired from my trip.”
Robert looked at him with a solemn expression on his face. William looked away from his friend to avoid his keen and knowing gaze. He did not want his friend to know he was lying.
“She is not here, you know,” Robert said. “Lord Doris left her.”
A ringing noise started in his ears. The news shook him to his very core. He could not for the life of him understand why someone would leave Rose.
“What are you talking about?” William shouted. “Why would he leave her? Rose is the most beautiful and brilliant woman ever known to mankind. How can any sane person think about leaving her? Why didn’t you inform me about this? You knew I loved her.”
William was screaming at the top of his lungs and people were now staring in their direction. There were gasps and murmurings heard from the guests when William shouted the name of the courtesan and confessed his love for the whole world to hear.
“Calm down, William,” Robert said in alarm. “You are attracting the attention of the guests.”
William looked around at the faces of the nobility and saw judgment and condescension. He had been the same when Rose had not entered his life, but now he was starting to see the ugliness of the society.
“The devil take all of them! They amuse themselves by interfering in personal matters of others.”
He shoved his friend to the side and walked away from the dinner and the esteemed guests. His father and mother shouted at him, but their voices fell on deaf ears. Henry and Robert rushed towards him, but he jerked off their hands.
Rose had told him she loved him, but he could not confess to loving her because she was mistress of another man. He could not bring himself to make her life difficult by following his selfish desires and telling her how he really felt. But now the situation had taken an unexpected turn. He could confess to loving her without any barriers standing in his way.
He was welcomed at the entrance to the brothel by a burly man he had seen a couple of times in the past. The burly man bowed his head and allowed him inside.
He did not wait in the living room like the usual customers. He was here to see the love of his life, not meet a harlot.
Some of the residents of the house objected and called after him, but he did not stop to listen to them.
The door to her room was ajar and she was sleeping in her bed with her back towards him. She seemed so small in a curled up fetal position.
He came to a sudden halt and a silent scream died in his throat when she turned in her sleep towards him.
Gone were the rosy cheeks and cherry lips. Instead, she had cracked, dried lips, hollowed out cheeks, and a ghostly white face. All the womanly curves he remembered were replaced with protruding bones. He almost wept when he saw dark patches beneath her sunken eyes and the lifeless locks he had once adored so much.
He kneeled beside her on the floor and held a small lock of her hair with a shaking hand.
“Oh, my beloved Rose, what happened to you?” he whispered.
It was not the Rose he remembered.
It was a withered rose someone had crushed.
He felt a presence behind him and then heard the clearing of a throat. The aristocratic air about the person was suggesting it was the madam of the house.
“What happened to her?” he asked. “Who did this to her?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” the madam asked in a lilting voice.
“Lord Franklin Doris,” he said with conviction.
Who else could have been so cruel except for the man who took her for his mistress and then abandoned her the very next week? He hated that cruel bastard for damaging such a beautiful person.
“No, my lord,” the madam responded. “You did that to her.”
His head whirled around towards the madam. He was not sure he had heard her right until he saw the look on her face. She was looking at him with anger and loathing. She was really accusing him of a crime he was not aware of being committed in the first place.
“I would never harm her,” he protested.
“What did you think would happen when you shared a scandalous waltz with her?” the madam asked. “Did you really think Lord Doris would not get angry? She was his mistress. His property.”
He found it hard to suppress his rage. Rose was a beautiful girl with a kind soul. Calling her a property of some lord meant objectifying her and it did not sit well with him and neither did the fact that he was the one responsible for her condition.
“She is not a thing someone can own,” he said. “She is a person.”
The madam tilted her head and looked at him with amusement. He did not appreciate the mockery in light of what he just witnessed. Rose was in a critical situation and the madam was not showing even a small bit of sympathy.
“For me, she is just another source of income,” she said nonchalantly.
The rage he was trying so hard to suppress came out of his every pore. His face turned red and his whole body started shaking.
“Are you that heartless?” he asked angrily. “Can’t you see her condition?”
The madam clicked her tongue and shook her head.
“Well, I am not running a charity house, my lord,” she said. “She is in no condition to pay me for her lodging, so I will be forced to throw her out.”
Did she really just suggest throwing out one of her own girls because she could not pay? That was just brutal and plain cruel.
He took out his purse and threw it near the feet of the madam.
“How much do you want?” he asked. “I will pay you for her lodgings.”
The madam looked with disinterest at his purse and then kicked it back towards him with her foot.
“A sick person in a brothel is bad for business, my lord,” she said. “I am afraid I would rather replace her with someone else.”
His hands went around Rose’s head in a protective manner. The madam would never throw her out this very instant, but his instincts were that of a protective lover. He did not need a reason to go all alpha male on those who even suggested harming his beloved.
“She is irreplaceable,” he seethed.
“Why don’t you take her home?” she asked. “She obviously means something to you.”
He became speechless. He wanted to take her with him, but not without her permission. Rose might not want to see him. After all, as the madam said, he was the one responsible for her condition. If it were not for him, the vibrant girl would not have been replaced with a beaten down person.
“She is a courtesan and you are a lord,” the madam said tauntingly. “God forbid a gentleman considers a harlot for his wife.” The madam looked over her shoulder. “John!”
The burly man he had seen at the doorsteps came into his view.
“You called, mistress,” John said.
“Rose is leaving,” the madam said, waving her hand dismissively. “Pack her things. She is not beautiful anymore. She will repel our customers.”
His hold on her tightened. He glared at the approaching servant. The servant was following orders from his mistress, but he still saw him as a threat to her.
“Lay one finger on her and I will slit your throat,” he said to the servant. John halted immediately. “Put her things in my carriage. She is leaving with me.”
Madam Olivia smiled in triumph and winked at John when Lord William Clifford was picking up the courtesan and not looking their way. No way in hell was she going to stand aside and let Rose remain miserable. People might believe she was a heartless woman with no regard for the working girls, but they were all wrong. Madam Olivia cared for all her girls like a mother cares for a child.
Madam Olivia did not believe in love because of her own experience, but she started believing in love when she witnessed Lord Clifford kneeling at Rose’s side. He had moisture in his eyes when he looked at her. He had a fire burning in his eyes when she had suggested throwing out Rose.
He did not cringe nor show any signs of disdain when his gaze fell on the ugly scar on her face or her haggard state. He was in love with the courtesan and even a blind person could see he would go to any lengths to protect Rose.
Chapter 20
Rose had woken up during the heated conversation between Lord Clifford and her matron, but she did not have the courage to open her eyes. She heard the unspoken love he had for her in his words when he put his arms around her protectively. She knew he felt something for her, otherwise, he would not have come running to the brothel like the very devil was at his feet just to see her.
He cares for her. She was sure of it.
He kissed her softly on her forehead and deposited her with care on a bench in the carriage. She wished her slight hitching of breath did not give her away when his warm and supple lips made contact with her skin.
She could feel the desire building up inside her from his mere presence. The heat coming off of him was a fuel for the fire burning inside her.
The carriage started moving and she knew there was no stopping the inevitable. Sooner or later she will have to see the look of disappointment on his face. She will have to accept the fact that after losing her beauty, she had nothing else to offer to him
She yawned and slowly opened her eyes. He was sitting on a bench right in front of her and his unwavering gaze was settled on her.
“What happened?” he asked.
So many things had happened since the last time she had seen him. She had received humiliation at the hands of Lord Doris. She had befriended many girls she had once deemed lower than her in status. She had found a mother in her matron and most of all, she had finally started to see the fraud and charade she was living.
But she knew, he was asking about why she looked like a beggar rather than the beautiful Rose everyone praised.
“He threw me out of his house.”
Her throat closed and words died on her lips. She could not go into further details about how and why Lord Doris treated her like a pile of rubbish. She would never forgive herself if her confession made him see her like a pile of garbage too. Her heart was too fragile to tolerate hatred from the man she loved with everything she had.
“Is that all or are you hiding something from me?” he asked, gently touching her hand. “I am begging you to have mercy on me and put a stop to what I am envisioning happened to you. Did he lay hands on you? Did he hurt you? My beautiful Rose, speak to me. Your silence is tearing me asunder.”
She looked up at him and saw compassion and deep understanding instead of hate and scorn. It was the single most joyous moment of her entire life. She had finally found a man who looked at her with adoration even though she was not beautiful anymore.
“He locked me inside a closet all night,” she said softly. He held her hand more tightly and his nostrils flared. She hesitated for only a few seconds, not wanting to anger him further, but then he softened his hold and nodded his head slightly, asking her to go on. “Then he threw me out without any shoes or a cape… I had to walk barefoot for miles.”
His chest was rising and falling with suppressed rage. She could see in his eyes that the story of what happened to her was deeply disturbing for him.
He was quiet for a long time when she finished the tale of what transpired that day and even though she wanted to break the silence, she let him have the moment to control whatever emotion was threating to come to the surface.
“Do you want me to challenge him to a duel?” he said after a long pause with a strange calm in his voice.
“No!” she yelled and was out of her bench in the blink of an eye and kneeling at his feet with her slender finger on his lips. “I shudder to think of losing you, my lord. You can’t challenge him to a duel. I forbid it.”
He was astonished at first with her abrupt reaction and then a smile tugged at his lips when she uttered the last part of her sentence.
He placed his hands under her arms and pulled her up until she was sitting beside him on the bench. He held her face in his palms and stared at the violet eyes he had fantasized about all those days when he had been apart from her.
“I would have appreciated a little confidence in my skills, my lady,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.
She put her hand atop his hand on her right cheek and closed her eyes to savor the warmth of his skin. She had missed him all these days and now that they were finally together, she wished to never let him go.
“Accidents happen, my lord,” she said softly. “Even a skilled swordsman can fall on his own sword.”
She was talking to him, but she was thinking about herself. She was a skilled courtesan, a paragon of her field, yet a small mistake cost her everything. Becoming mistress of Lord Doris was the worst decision of her life.
“Are you referring to me or yourself, my lady?” he asked.
She opened her eyes and a lonely tear fell from her eyes. His expression changed to worry. She shook her head and smiled at him.
“Tears of joy, my lord,” she said. “Finally, someone understands me.”
His expression softened and he captured her mouth in a kiss. She moaned against his mouth and he deepened the kiss and slid his tongue inside her mouth. With tongues dueling with one another, she became hot and felt her chest getting heavy with desire.
He finally came up for a breath and she saw his eyes glossed over with desire. She was not the only one affected by that kiss.
“Why do you insist on calling me a lady?” she asked.
This question had been on her mind for a long time, but she never got the courage to ask him.
“Do you not like it?” he asked, rubbing her lips with the pad of his thumb.
She squirmed in the seat, trying to suppress the urge to jump at him and tear his clothes. Asking that question at a time when he was thinking of ravaging her had been a grave mistake.
“You give me honor and respect,” she said breathily. “How can I not like it?”
He leaned towards the side of her throat and kissed her with wild passion. She forgot what she had said a few seconds ago when desire started hitting her with a heavy blow after blow.
She clutched his hair in her hands as he trailed a path of hungry kisses towards the back of her ear. She jumped slightly when he captured her lobe between his teeth and bit lightly, followed by licking it with his tongue.
“Would you like the rest of the world to call you a lady too?” he whispered.
Desire and confusion mixed together and wreaked havoc upon her nerves. He pulled back and stared at her with questioning eyes. She had assumed he was just making a statement, but seemed like he had something else on his mind.
“I am a courtesan, my lord,” she said hesitantly.
“You can become a lady after marrying me,” he responded.
She forgot to breathe. Was she hearing him correctly? Did he really just ask her to marry him or was it an illusion? Can’t he see her scar? Can’t he see she was not beautiful anymore?
“Surely you jest, my lord,” she said.
She had no idea she was touching her scar until he pulled her hand away and kissed her on the angry red scar.
“I don’t like you for your beautiful face, my love,” he said. “You are more than that.” He held her face in his hands and looked her in the eyes, wearing his heart on his sleeve. “I love you for your beautiful soul and brilliant mind. I love the girl hiding behind the mask of a skilled courtesan. I love the girl named Rose.”
She could not hold back the tears of joy coming out of her eyes like a flowing stream. His beautiful words healed the wounds given to her by the unforgivable eyes of those who ridiculed her and called her ugly behind her back.
She smiled at him with her teeth showing and placed her head against his warm and welcoming chest.
“I have no words to justify what I feel for you, my lord,” she responded. “All I know is I will not survive if you ever abandon me.”
