Pleasure House Ball Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats. Love revealed at a courtesan’s ball. Brenton, Lord Mallory, attends his first courtesan’s ball in ten years to appease his concerned friends, though he’d rather stay home and read to his motherless daughters. books2read.com/suzilovePHB
Carina, Countess of Dorchester, glanced out at the square for the twentieth time and clutched the window casing for support when she saw that striding along the pavement towards her house was an exceedingly tall man, dressed in up-to-the minute fashion and wreathed in an aura of power and control. The Duke of Stirkton cut such a superior figure that men stepped aside and women turned to stare as he passed them on the footpath. The fact that he was oblivious to their attention and admiration made him more interesting, and for the first time in many years, Carina felt a glimmer of hope.
“Oh, Gertie, yes, yes,” she said, clapping her hands and spinning in a giddy circle before the window. “I think Georgie’s way out is about to present itself, and sooner than we thought.”
Gertie joined her at the window but groaned aloud. “Oh, no, no, no, Carina! Not him. The Duke of Stirkton is not the best person to help us introduce the girls to gentlemen.”
“Why not? He may not be a perfect solution but, with his influence in society, he may provide our best way forward.”
“You were only going to ask to see his grandfather’s papers. Look at whatever the Duke may have already found, whether it’s letters, directions, or anything else to help us work out the names and locations of those two men.”
Why shouldn’t Lady Lillian take the chance of a night’s fun and freedom, hidden from high-society an out of reach of the duke’s continual criticisms? She’d lost enough of her life while married to a man who didn’t deserve either her patience or her fortitude. Starting tonight, she’d take control of herself and rebirth the confident and happy person that only appeared now when she was staying at her father’s country estate.
She’d been excited about this night for weeks and she’d no intention of running away before she’d explored and widened her experience, though only visually. Not even if Brenton threatened to expose her, or worse, visit her father and reveal where she’d been. Stiffening her spine, she took Brenton’s hand and, after muttering a quick apology to her cluster of admirers, led him straight to one of the balcony doors. She didn’t stop until they were in a darkened section of the balcony where no one could overhear their conversation.
She dropped his hand and turned to lean on the veranda rail and stared out at the garden. ‘What are you doing here?’ She spoke without turning to face him, both mortified and terrified that he’d discovered her here.
‘Michael dragged me here.’ He caught her wrist and tugged her around to face him. ‘Who is that woman you are with? Did she bring you here?’ He ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself and dampen down his anger. ‘Of course she brought you here. You wouldn’t have known to come to a place like this otherwise. Did she coerce you in some way?’
Lillian chuckled. ‘Do you truly believe me such an innocent that I don’t know the location of brothels or the estate houses that hold balls where the main guests are ladies of the night? I’m not that naïve, Brent. When I was a married woman, the other married ladies spoke constantly about the state of their marriages. Those conversations included such things as where their husbands, fathers, or brothers went to visit paid women, and what happened in those places.’ She snorted. ‘They’d no idea that my own marriage was so dismal that the only times my husband touched me in bed was those rare occasions when he remembered he was supposed to breed a son and so made an appointment for the next night to visit my bedchamber. Even during those ten dreadful minutes he spent with me, he never thought to explain what happened between a man and a woman, or about how children were conceived. My mother, the duchess, gave me a one sentence explanation on my wedding day of how to act with my husband and the need to create a child, but she unfortunately never gave me the information I needed about what physical intimacy entailed, so the first time my husband lifted the hem of my night dress, I panicked.’
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Lady Lillian Armstrong’s mind raced, scrabbling for an excuse for being here. Shock held her captive. Her best friend stood behind her and he’d recognized her, despite the pains she and Maggie had taken with their enormous masks and gowns purchased from the dressmaker who designed flamboyant gowns for courtesans. Lord Mallory, Brenton, was the last person she’d expect to meet at a ball for procuring a mistress.
Maggie, her companion and procurer of ball invitations, had assured her that the majority of gentlemen attending tonight would be vetted acquaintances of Lord Browning’s. Gentlemen on the lookout for a new mistress, young men eager to exchange their quarterly allowances for a brief affair with a rising star in courtesan circles, or men with aspirations of wealth who hoped to afford a full time mistress in the next year or two.
Brenton didn’t fit any of those categories, or perhaps she was mistaken and he lived an entirely different life than the one she saw. He’d barely ventured ten miles from his estate in the past five or six years and preferred evenings at home with his daughter to roaming London’s streets with his peers, gambling at clubs, or getting drunk and visiting brothels. She lifted her fan to her face and waved air across her heated cheeks, not wanting her male admirers to notice her distress. Maggie had promised that all conversations and connections were incognito, so Lillian wouldn’t be recognized as the duke’s disgraced daughter, giving her an opportunity to let the repressed side of Lillian to fly free.
The last thing she needed was a serious conversation with Brent, or to have him criticize or interfere in the outrageous night she and her companion had planned. Maggie’s twelve months of wearing depressing black and pretending to grieve for a man who’d been cruel and abusive had almost destroyed her, so she’d urged Lillian to avoid her mistakes. Advised Lillian to avoid spending months in seclusion and under censure from ignorant family members. Urged Lillian to do something rash and abnormal. Something to clear her mind and soul of the stink of her husband’s infidelity, uncontrolled spending, and irrational actions.
Pleasure House ball Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats books2read.com/suzilovePHB.
1860 New Hebrides, Pacific Ocean.
Nothing had prepared Lady Katharine Montgomery for the jumble of feelings overwhelming her when Alex worshipped her body, first with words and later with his hands and mouth. For years around this house, she’d been forced to appear dowdy, unintelligent, and totally self-effacing to never anger her father, or draw his wrath. Now, though, every degrading restriction was lifted from her mind, body, and life.
Her father was dead. Yesterday, she’d buried her hatred for the despicable man who’d given her life during the quarter hour it took to stand at his grave and, along with all the other hypocrites present, pretend to mourn as they buried his mortal remains. He’d cheated traders, beaten plantation workers, and horse-whipped her within an inch of her life. She and all the other mourners hoped he’d rot in hell.
Last night, she’d felt free to liberate the passionate nature she’d kept buried for six and twenty years for fear of her father’s explosive wrath. But one night with Lord Alexander St. John had changed everything. One night with a lover who was gentle and caring had her aching for more, more of Alex and more of life with him.
1860 New Hebrides, Pacific Ocean.
Katie woke sluggishly, unable to pinpoint what felt different. Outside, it was still dark and she guessed it was a couple of hours before the tropical dawn. Already the heat was oppressive and sweat dotted her body, the bed linen a crumpled tangle on the floor. She usually awoke with a jolt, fearful of what the day might bring and uncertain if she’d be alive to see tomorrow’s dawn. But today she felt alive. Even her body felt different, sort of enjoyable lassitude, but with a few puzzling tender areas.
She flinched and barely smothered her scream when a heavily muscled arm draped across her bare waist and languidly pulled her backwards. Memory flooded her. Alex was tugging her, gently but persistently, towards him again. Her inner struggle between mind and body lasted only a fleeting minute as she permitted her naked body to be lifted and draped across his, breast to breast, thighs meeting and his aroused flesh, hot and hard, enticing her once more.
‘Alex…’
Gentle fingers against her lips silenced her. ‘Shush, Katie. Shush!’
‘But we have an agreement.’
‘I promise to abide by your ridiculous rules, but we still have many hours before full tide and I want to love you, again and again. I need this! We both do. This may be all the time we have to be together for a long while.’
Leaning in, Lord Mallory whispered in Lady Lillian’s ear. “Well, well. I certainly didn’t expect to find you in attendance at a scandalous ball.”
1820 Blackstone House, Twenty miles south of London. Brenton, Earl Mallory, secreted himself behind a life-sized statue of a naked man. Hiding from the two hundred guests spilling through the rooms Lord Browning had opened for the Pleasure House Ball. Clearly he’d suffered a moment of insanity when he’d yielded to his friend’s pleas to accompany him to this ball. ‘For God’s sake, Michael, why are we wasting our time here? I’ve no intention of engaging a mistress and….’
Brent shook his head. ‘Must be imagining things. I know only one person who wears that perfume and she mixes it herself. That woman is a lady and a duke’s daughter and certainly wouldn’t be attending a courtesan’s ball.’
‘Good God! You don’t mean−’
Pleasure House ball Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats books2read.com/suzilovePHB. Lord Mallory, attends his first courtesan’s ball in ten years to appease his concerned friends, though he’d rather stay home and read to his motherless daughters.
1860 New Hebrides, Pacific Ocean.
Listening to McLeish extol his own greatness nearly had Lord Alexander St. John at screaming point, but he fixed an interested look on his face while he let his mind wander to Lady Katharine, his thoughts touching over her like a caress. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her sweetness, to allow his tongue to sweep the inside of her soft mouth while his hands explored her body. Oh, God. He had to pull his thoughts back from the direction they were heading before McLeish noticed that his groin was suddenly hard and hot from just thinking of Katie.
Feigning a large yawn, he apologized to McLeish as he excused himself. ‘I thank you for a delightful evening, Robert, but I find I am extraordinarily tired and if I am to discuss business with you tomorrow in any sort of reasonable fashion, I will retire now to my bed.’
‘Yes, yes, Alexander. I understand perfectly. I will meet you at nine at the warehouse.’
‘Ah, Robert. A little later would be better. I will need to arrange things on board my ship first.’
‘Of course, of course. Whatever suits. Until tomorrow.’ He turned to scream for the Chinese houseman, who Alex could see was already waiting in the shadows. ‘Tong! Show Earl St. John out and bring me another whiskey. Quickly!’
Alex started to correct McLeish about promoting him to Earl while his father still lived, but even another minute spent in the company of this appalling man would be too much.
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