The Wedding Night Affair--An Historical Mystery by L.C. Sharp (books to read as a couple TXT) 📕

“You are Anita,” he informed her. “It’s a Spanish name. Anita...”

“Anita Rosa,” she said. “But don’t Spanish ladies have black hair and eyes?”

“Don’t English women have blond hair and pale blue eyes?” he countered.

Her lips flattened. “I’ll give you that point. But I cannot speak Spanish. May I be Anna Ross from the country?”

He nodded, smiling. “A country girl, yes. I like your invention. You’re quick—we may need that skill.”

He led the way to the front door and opened it for her. He’d already called a hackney cab, which waited outside. He owned a carriage, but he rarely used it, and he didn’t employ a groom, so he’d judged a cab the lesser of two evils, praying it was in reasonable condition.

He led the way down the shallow steps to the pavement, then helped her into the cab. “There will be Frenchwomen there tonight who have never set foot outside the East End, Prussian frauleins who could not pick out Berlin on a map, and not a few Arabian princesses. It’s a masquerade, my dear, with a nod to the exotic.”

What on earth had made him call her that? She was not his dear anything. She was a client, and he would do well to remember that. Even if her plight affected him as no other had before.

Thankfully, the carriage was reasonably clean, although the leather seats were not in the best of condition. After tucking Juliana and her voluminous skirts inside, there was just room for him to squeeze in next to her. Far too close for his liking, but that could not be helped.

He put on his mask and made sure hers was firmly in place. Plain black silk mask for him, one with a few blue feathers for her.

They were going to a Covent Garden bagnio, with private apartments above, dedicated to pursuits Ash took care never to use. “I still feel sure I should not be taking you.”

She bounced on the seat. “Oh, you should. I want this experience. Whatever comes of it, I want to know, to see, to be, where I was only an onlooker before.”

“I’m sure you’ve never seen anything like this before.” What madness had made him agree to take her?

“On some nights they show plays, and on others there are operas, but you will never see anything like them in the Opera House or Drury Lane,” he told her as he drew her upstairs. “Stay by my side. If you don’t know what to say to someone, smile. Act stupid and beautiful if you have to.”

He could have sworn she snorted. “Beautiful,” she muttered.

Instead of insisting she was beautiful, which a truthful gentleman would, he continued, “You’re playing the part of a lovely courtesan who can command the highest prices. You are witty, bright and beautiful.” She was uncomfortable with her natural beauty, used to disguising it. So he would have to persuade her of that fact another way. She deserved to know.

She snorted again, but her expression didn’t change. He admired her ability to do that. It made him want to laugh. “I’ve played a part all my life. I daresay I can manage this one. I was sold for the best price my parents could get. Why shouldn’t I do it for myself this time?”

“I beg you do not,” he murmured. “Tonight, I’m the fortunate person who caught you.”

She shot him a beatific smile. Could she be enjoying herself?

“Do not forget why we’re here. I want to meet a few acquaintances and find out what I can about your husband’s proclivities. That might be hard for you to hear.”

“After what he did to me? Could anything come as a surprise? I think not.”

She had a point. Looking at the diagram his sister had made had hurt him more than he’d imagined it could. She’d taken a battering that could have killed her.

“If you would, I want you to watch and listen. Your powers of observation are my greatest asset here. And when we’re done, I want a full report from you. Write it down when we get home if you have to, but do it before you retire, so it is fresh in your mind.”

“I can do that.”

The ball was in full swing when they arrived, even though the hour was still early. People were streaming through the open doors, chattering and laughing. Four men stood there, large, powerful men, street bullies, ready to eject anyone who did not have the token of entry.

Ash waited his turn, listening to the gossip. Mostly about the women here tonight. “Did you know La Senza is without a protector?” the man in front of them asked his companion.

Ash tried not to respond. He knew more about La Senza than anyone here.

“Not my preference, old man. I use up all my energy tupping my wife. Fortunately, she’s enceinte again, so my duty is done for the year. I’ve come here to find a nubile youth, fresh to the market.”

“They all claim to be fresh meat.”

The first man turned to the second, grinning. “I know, but I can tell. Some of them are dreadful actors, bad enough to star at Drury Lane.”

Both men sniggered.

Juliana’s grip on Ash’s arm tightened. “He likes other men?” she whispered.

He smiled. “Many do.”

So she was not as experienced and unshockable as she claimed. Her lips pressed hard together and her back was rigid. He leaned in. “But they are men, just as I am, as your father is. It is not their fault they are forced to places like this to seek people to love.”

She smelled of oranges, seductive and sweet.

“Yes, of course,” she answered. “I hadn’t thought about it, that’s all. Perhaps I should have done. I expect to learn a great deal tonight,” she answered under her breath. If he had not been watching her lips move, he wouldn’t have heard her.

At last they moved forward. Ash presented his token. The bully gave Juliana