A Regency era courtesan gives up her empire for love and discovers how truly binding her connections are to the noblemen she used to serve.
*****
In the sequel to Courte...
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"Mistress Hayes! You are a vision of loveliness."
The earl left his chair and bounded toward me like a horse being set loose in a field. I felt taken aback at being greeted by a member of the royal court in my own home, and Tilda's eyes went wide as she stood beside the beverage cart holding a pot of tea.
"Your grace. I did not expect you so soon." I performed a curtsy, but he seemed not to notice as he swept me into an embrace without reserve. For a diminutive fellow, he was quite strong. "Oh, my. Hello to you too."
He chuckled into my hair as he spun me around and continued his effusive address. "I left for London as soon as your letter arrived. I have missed you more than words can express. Your comely face. Your intoxicating scent. Your daring sense of humour."
"Speaking of daring. I'm feeling a bit dizzy."
He removed his head from my hair, leaving our faces just inches apart. "I am sorry for behaving so childishly. But you bring out the youth in me." Finding himself again, he set me on my feet. But he put nary two feet between us as he stared at me without shame. "It has felt as if I've been living in a prison these past two months. A windowless prison serving nothing but bread and water."
"Do not exaggerate. I am sure you have eaten more than bread and water. You look as fit as ever."
A broad smile commanded his features, and I realized I needed to keep my compliments to myself or this would play out even worse than I imagined. "Of course, I am eating. But the food tastes bland. My life has been bland without you in it."
Saints preserve us.
"Tilda, is that the tea?"
Blinking out of her stupor, Tilda looked at the pot in her hand. "Oh, it's empty, Mistress. I was just fetching a second pot for his grace. And Clara is cutting a sponge cake. We weren't sure when you would return."
"Tea and cake is perfect. Thank you. Oh, and Tilda, I believe a spot of port might go well on this occasion." We exchanged knowing smiles that the earl seemed too oblivious to read, and while she managed refreshments, I gestured him back into a chair. "Why don't we catch up, your grace. There are a number of things I'd like to share with you."
"I will abide your request, as I know you will entertain me with your tales of high adventure. But I am very eager to take you to bed. It is all I have thought of since you left me."
I knew how to put on the appearance of amusement when an eye roll could provide more satisfaction. At this moment, however, the earl challenged my fortitude. "I appreciate your patience. I really do have an important matter to discuss with you."
"Then, by all means, speak your mind, Mistress Hayes."
His manner suddenly turned formal, and when I tried to swallow, my throat protested against a painful lump. Where was Tilda with that port? "Forgive my rudeness, your grace. I just realized I hadn't asked about your journey from Oxford. You must have left before the dawn to arrive here so early."
