The Courtesan by Julia Justiss

Author:Julia Justiss [Justiss, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, General, Love Stories, Historical, Regency, Romance Fiction, Historical Romance
ISBN: 9780373770823
Google: MldTAgAACAAJ
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2004-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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Early that evening, Belle stood choosing a gown for the intimate dinner she'd told Mae she hoped to share with the captain. That comment had been enough to prompt a beaming Mae to reply that, as she feared she might have a cold coming on, she'd take a tray in her room.

Given her expectations of how Belle meant the night to end, Mae would probably applaud the gown Belle selected. Made of deep blue satin that matched her eyes and cut extremely low, it had been Bellingham's favorite. So pretty was it, she'd considered having Jane remake it in a more modest style—but for now, it would serve the courtesan one last time.

The sapphire and diamond set Bellingham had given her to set off the dress now reposed in a London banker's vault. Without the necklace and long dangling earrings, the gown would be even more scandalously bare, but Belle resisted the impulse to select some other jewelry to cover what would be a flagrant display of flesh.

Jane had come to help her dress and now waited quietly for her direction. Swallowing her distaste, Belle handed the shimmering blue gown over to the maid.

The effect, as she beheld her image in the glass after

Jane had fastened her into it, was all she could have hoped. The vast expanse of naked skin provoked a startled gasp even from the far-from-innocent Jane.

"Shall you be wanting your jewel case now?" Jane asked, giving her a troubled look.

"No, that will be all. I can finish on my own."

"As you wish, my lady." With another dubious glance, Jane curtsied and withdrew.

After applying some borrowed rouge to her cheeks and lips, she patted Mae's powder on her face and chest, added a double dose of lavender scent, then turned to her mirror.

In place of the modest young woman who'd stared back at her this past month was an elegant stranger with gold hair pinned high upon her head, a single curl falling to her bared shoulder. Her powdered skin emphasized the blue of her eyes; the rouge made her mouth appear fuller, moister, as if she'd just been thoroughly kissed. The deep V of the de colletage led the eye to a swell of full breasts restrained beneath a bodice so brief it appeared her next breath might treat the viewer to a glimpse of her barely concealed nipples.

Voila Lady Belle, courtesan extraordinaire.

A wave of self-loathing shook her.

Resisting the urge to hide beneath a shawl, despite the chill, she headed for the dining room. To her annoyance, her stomach started churning.

Why she should be nervous she couldn't imagine—unless she were already subconsciously mourning the death of her dream that Jack Carrington might be different. She knew perfectly well what would happen in her chamber after dinner—if in fact they made it out of the dining room. Her late protector had enjoyed sampling her in the public rooms of the house, where at any moment a servant might, and sometimes had, come upon them.

So it wasn't as if she were some terrified virgin, about to be thrust into intimacy for the first time.

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