“Exactly.” A soft rap sounded on the door. “Come in.”
Thomas stepped through the door and left it ajar.
Eleanor inclined her head. “Mr. Garrick. Thank you for rescuing my dear friend.”
Thomas’s eyebrows quirked up, but his face remained impassive and intimidating. He didn’t reply.
Before he could say something even less tactful than what Eleanor had already heard, Victoria led her toward the door. “Go have fun. It’s yuletide, and you’re missing all the games and food. You should see if Lord Percival requires a partner.”
Laughter and the off-key tinkle of piano keys drifted up the stairs. Eleanor glanced over her shoulder at Thomas, then leaned closer to whisper in Victoria’s ear, “Will you be all right with him?”
Victoria cut her smile short because it hurt her swollen temple, so she nodded. “Perhaps he is the one who should worry. I might take wild advantage of him.”
Eleanor laughed, the tears and angst erased as easily as a sponge on slate. “Your jests never fail to amuse me.”
Once Eleanor was out of sight down the hallway, Victoria closed the door and locked it.
“What are you doing, you minx?” Thomas crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth set in a scowl.
At first glance, he was an intimidating, scary brute. It’s what made him excel at his profession. Victoria knew the truth. A shiver ran through her. That scowly mouth could do unspeakably tender things, and so could his big, hard body.
“I’m going to kiss you.” Stalking him, she forced his retreat until the back of his legs hit the chair, and he plopped down. She draped herself over his lap, twined her arms around his neck, and fulfilled her promise.
She was the aggressor, plundering his mouth and wanting to tempt him into another indiscretion. He resisted, gentling the kiss until he was sipping on her lips like a butterfly. “I shan’t take you tonight.”
“But I need you, Thomas.” The plaintive note in her voice betrayed her frayed nerves over the events of the day. “If things had gone differently…”
He tucked her head into the warm space between his neck and shoulder. “I will not take you, but I will watch over you so you can get the rest you need.”
She took a deep, shuddery breath. His scent was a familiar comfort. And it would be hers to savor forever. He was hers forever. The reality had yet to sink in.
“We will marry?” she whispered.
“With haste.”
“But you did not plant your seed inside me.”
His chest rumbled with what she took for a laugh. “According to my comrades, it is not a foolproof method to prevent a babe. Even so, we’ve waited long enough, haven’t we? Unless you would like a formal wedding this spring in London?”
He shifted to see her face, but she only snuggled closer. “Not at all. The sooner I have you in my bed, the better.”
This time his laugh was unmistakable. She hoped to make him laugh every day. Or at least every other day. “You did take my virtue in a most unladylike manner.”
She smiled and pressed a kiss against his warm skin, her eyes falling shut as exhaustion crept over her. Her body and mind understood she was safe in his arms, and she was able to relax. “I must make an honest man of you.”
“Indeed. An honest man who loves you beyond measure.” A hitch in his breath had her attention. “My new position will come with dangers, Victoria. Are you sure you’d not prefer to escape the game your father and I are forced to play?”
She tightened her hold on him. “Who then would protect you?”
He hummed and brushed his lips against her aggrieved temple. Feeling his complete capitulation, she drifted into a light sleep, dimly aware when he tucked her into the bed.
“I’ll keep watch over you, love,” he whispered when she stirred.
She smiled and succumbed to the rest her body craved, knowing when she awoke he would be there—and they would face the future together.
About Laura Trentham
An award-winning author, Laura Trentham was born and raised in a small town in Tennessee. She writes romantic women’s fiction, sexy, small town contemporaries, and smoking hot Regency historicals. Several of her books have been named to Amazon’s Best Romance of the Month list, iBooks Best Book of the Month list, and even named an NPR Best Romance of the Month.
Want to read more in the Spies and Lovers world? Look for AN INDECENT INVITATION. Watch Mr. Gray Masterson match wits with Lady Lily Drummond. Warning: This book contains spies, scandals, naughty liaisons in houses of ill repute, men who think they know everything and women who know they do not.
Browse Laura’s gorgeous books, on Amazon
Visit Laura’s website to discover more, and to sign up for her newsletter
Join Laura’s Facebook group
Follow Laura
On Bookbub
The Christmas Courtesan
by Victoria Vale
Chapter 1
London, 1818
“Come now, ladies. You cannot possibly believe those ridiculous rumors. Male courtesans in London? Why, the very idea is preposterous!”
Lady Miranda Hughes glanced up from the pink rosette she’d just embroidered onto her sampler. The other women gathered around her morning room had given up their work as talk of Christmas festivities was lost in favor of something far more scandalous. Dropping the sampler and needle into the work-bag at her feet, she reached for her empty teacup.
Mrs. Maud Portemaine continued her tirade against the latest piece of gossip mentioned during their weekly tea and needlepoint session.
“No man is so desperate for funds to make himself a kept man,” Maud insisted, staring at them over the rim of her round spectacles. She was all hard angles and sharp features, though from behind her lenses one could make out a pair of pleasing blue eyes.
Miranda issued a sarcastic snort while refilling her cup. “Half the men of the ton are desperate for money. Why do you think the heiresses are always the first to be snapped up every Season?”
She could attest to that herself, as a large dowry had offered her several opportunities for an advantageous marriage. Now that she was widowed, there were fewer suitors lining up to court her—though Miranda could offer no complaint. She liked her freedom, and thanks to a generous dower’s portion could maintain her lifestyle for the rest of her days.
“Most of them do not wish to marry, anyway,” offered Lady Mary Caulfield, selecting two iced cakes from the silver tower between them. The blonde curls at her temples bobbed when she sat back in her chair and took a tiny, ladylike bite of her cake. “Why wed an heiress if you can warm one’s bed and still earn yourself a fortune?”
Maud sputtered, goggling at Mary in astonishment. “Honestly, Mary … the things you say!”
“She isn’t wrong,” Miranda replied. “I cannot see why it should bother you to know they exist, Maud. If a woman can become some man’s mistress and earn herself a king’s ransom in the process, I do not see why a man cannot do the same.”
“They don’t exist,” Maud insisted. “It’s just a silly rumor.”