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

slight shake of his head, he turned away from the dance floor, his smile firmly in place. If she could see his eyes properly, she’d say the smile did not reach them. But she knew. He was back in his character, a gentleman with his new mistress.

Not a few people had watched them. Them, or her? She wasn’t sure, but if La Senza was correct, perhaps they were noticing because she wasn’t “right.”

Then she had better behave like a mistress. With the memory of the soft kiss still burning through her, she leaned up and dropped a kiss on his cheek. She dared not come close to his mouth. Kissing his cheek was bad enough. She was still skittish, and she could not see that state of affairs changing.

A wave of need engulfed her, then was gone.

The very thought of intimacy sent chills through her, so much that she shivered, despite the warm evening. Her ice came from the inside.

He did not respond to her peck instantly. His smile remained firmly in place but he remained still, gazing at her so intently he made her uncomfortable. Now she could see his eyes.

Abruptly he turned. “We should walk. Listen and learn. Wait for this person La Senza is sending to us.”

At the end of the room a table stood, a few trays of wineglasses stowed on it, some empty, some half drank.

“Excuse me.”

They turned to find a woman coming up behind them. Her white mask covered all her face apart from her lips. Her eyes glittered behind the slits. “You were asking about Lord Uppingham?”

Ash nodded. “And you are?”

The woman shrugged. “La Belle Corusco.”

“May I ask what your interest is in him, Belle?”

“He was mine, once. Or rather, I was his. You were his?” She swept a disdainful glance over Juliana and twitched her skirts away. “I can hardly believe you could keep a man like that happy.”

“Ah.” Juliana had to think fast. “For only a short time.”

The woman’s jaw relaxed, the tense muscle threading her neck less prominent. “You were from the brothel he used? Did he speak of me?”

Juliana had to shake her head.

“I remember him so well. I will never forget.” The woman lifted the mask to wipe her eyes. She was weeping? For Godfrey?

“I’m sorry. Do you miss him?” She kept her voice soft and sympathetic.

“Yes, damn you!” Juliana could not mistake the woman’s passion. “I was his. Exclusively his for a year before he moved on. Then he took a wife. And the bitch killed him. Murdered in cold blood! She had no concept of what he was, how much joy he could bring. Now none of us will have that pleasure again. She deprived the world of a man who could deliver pleasure like nobody else!”

Godfrey had had a devoted mistress? If he had treated her well, Juliana’s claim of mistreatment would be stone dead. Did he only treat his wife badly? “When was this?”

Belle swallowed as if fighting tears. “Three years ago.”

“He was good to you?”

“Why are you sounding so surprised? You said you knew him, that he had you. How can you doubt that?” She threw her hands into the air in a gesture of exasperation. “Was he not good to you?”

Juliana did not answer in words. Instead, she lifted the lace at her elbows and pushed back her sleeve to reveal a ring of purpling bruises on her upper arm.

“Such beautiful trophies,” Belle moaned. “Mine have faded. I begged him to give me more, but he found someone else.”

Shock ran though Juliana’s core. She couldn’t move.

“Who?” Ash interjected while Juliana was still reeling. Someone liked this? “Who did he go to?”

The woman scowled. “I don’t know. I asked, of course I did, but I never found out.” She tilted her head gently to one side, gazing at Ash. “Are you of the same inclination? Because I can tell you, sir, I am one of the best you’ll ever meet. I worked at the House of Correction until my master took me out of it. You may find me there now on Wednesdays. You don’t want an amateur, a beginner like this one.”

Juliana blinked. “You liked what he did?”

Belle planted her fists on her waist and leaned forward, her pose aggressive, her eyes burning with passion. “He was magnificent.”

Juliana tried not to shake. “I did not enjoy it.”

“Then why would he want you?” Incredulity sent her voice high. “Who are you?”

They were on the brink of being discovered. Rapidly, she forced her mind into invention, recalled stories and gossip. “Anna.” She changed her accent, mimicked one of the maids she’d heard in her father’s house to something broader. “My father was a cobbler in Leicester. I let ’is apprentice tup me, so Dad chucked me out. I’ve come to London to make my fortune, and the first man I met was Lord Uppingham. He took me on.”

She surprised herself with the fertility of her invention.

The woman glared at her. “Then I am sorry he wasted his time on you.” She turned back to Ash, her expression turning deferential, ducking her head as if expecting a blow. “And you, my lord. I can serve you better than any girl fresh from the country. Leave her be. She’ll find somebody else in a wink.”

Ash let a pause fall between them. He lifted his gaze, and deliberately perused the woman from head to foot before saying, “I think not.”

Belle looked around, over her shoulder. A man stood there, watching them. Tall, dark hair roughly tied back in a queue, and a black mask with a long nose. A Venetian mask.

Before Juliana could speak, Ash put his hand on her waist and urged her forward. “I will take you to La Senza, and you will stay with her. I want to speak to that man.”

He found the courtesan in the middle of a court of admirers, standing around her drinking in her every word. He exchanged a glance with her, and urged Juliana forward to stand