The Courtesan's Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page A

debauch her in some small fashion. If the fault was not with her, and she certainly hoped it wasn’t, then the fault must lie with Richborough. He was either profoundly stupid or, and this was not beyond reason, he was afraid of stepping wrong with her mother. That was entirely possible. It might have nothing at all to do with her. She might be the most fatally desirable woman since Helen and all those ships.
    It might not be a bad idea to ask her brother, John Markham Stuart Grey Trevelyan, the ninth Earl of Dalby, when he got home.
    On second thought, it might be a very bad idea.
    Judging by Anne’s reaction to her decision, she didn’t suppose Markham would respond any better. It was a good thing that he was out of town or he might try to do something foolish, like talk her out of it. What her mother would do when she found out she did not dare to think, though it was not in Sophia’s style to go about talking people out of things. No, it was much more her style to talk them into things. Like marriage.
    All the talking in the world was not going to change the fact that no worthy man would take her to wife. The world was reasonable and predictable and logical, and there was nothing reasonable about Caro’s situation. She was the perfectly respectable daughter of a famously unrespectable mother.
    No, there was nothing for it. She was going to follow fully in her mother’s footsteps and make her way in the world as a courtesan.
    She only hoped she had what it took to be famously unrespectable. Judging by Richborough’s reaction to her, she was not off to a very promising start. The only thing to do was to stop thinking about Richborough and his disappointing performance.
    “I thought he’d never leave,” Sophia said, coming into Caro’s bedroom with an exaggerated sigh of exasperation.
    “Who?”
    “Richborough. He gives a fair imitation of the most debauched man in London. I think he’d die of shame if I told him that he is only an imitation and nothing approaching the real thing.”
    “I think he’s besotted, Mother.” And if he were, then that might explain why he had behaved so dismally in not even giving the appearance of wanting to seduce her. Why, he hadn’t even tried to kiss her hand, the dullard.
    “Do you really think so?” Sophia said, insinuating herself onto a chaise longue covered in blush-colored silk damask. Sophia ran a hand over the back of her hair and smiled like a cat.
    “We both think so,” Caro said with a grin, putting off thoughts of the excessively dull Lord Richborough. “How do you do it, Mother? ”
    “Do what, darling?”
    “How do you make a man besotted? How do you, especially at your age, make a man … want you?”
    “I was enjoying this conversation until you said ‘at your age’ in that dumbfounded fashion. Really, Caro, I’m only thirty-four. You make me sound eighty.”
    “Which reminds me, you had two children by the age of eighteen. I can scarcely match you in that as I am fully seventeen now.”
    “I was precocious.”
    “I am on the shelf,” Caro rejoined.
    “On the shelf? Don’t be ridiculous, Caro. You are at the peak of your beauty and desirability. Let your mirror guide you in that truth if my words do not.”
    “Yes,” Caro said, squirming a bit on her silk-covered cushion. “I’ve been thinking about that, actually, and I’ve come to a decision. I won’t be talked out of it, Mother, I’m telling you that now. I am quite firm, quite decided.”
    “Really?” Sophia said, sitting up, eyes alight. “What have you decided? I’m breathless in anticipation.”
    “I’m,” she began, but the words suddenly stuck in her throat. Thinking about being a courtesan and talking about it with her mother were entirely different propositions, but Caro was nothing if not forthright and determined, or at least she wanted to believe so. “I’ve decided that, since a worthwhile marriage is out of the question, I’ve decided that …”
    “Yes,