Page 40 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke (The Marlow Family Secrets #6)
John walked into the narrow hall of what was basically a brothel. He was with his Harding cousins, the twins, Harry and Oliver.
The room was packed to the brim with men of his class.
John had only come because when Oliver had recommended a night at the opera, and later a party, John had seen an opportunity to cure his apathy.
He had never associated with courtesans before.
He had not needed to. Other men’s wives and widows had been more than willing.
But his cousins did associate with courtesans.
They had watched the opera in the courtesans’ theatre box, with others who sought the attention of the birds of paradise.
John had stood at the back and listened to their idle flirtation but not participated.
The women had made much of him, teasing him for his silence.
It amused his cousins, but it only annoyed John.
He found the women’s make-up and their forced, high-pitched giggles and low bodices crass.
Yet he had not been able to walk away because he was bored of his own company and was hunting for something tonight, a woman to ease his pain.
They had accompanied the diamonds of the demimonde home, for an open house, but when the invite had been extended, he had foolishly assumed it would only be the occupants of the theatre box here. There were three dozen more men than that massaging the whores’ egos. There was no space in the hall.
He followed his cousins.
He needed a mistress, a woman who would chase Katherine from his mind.
Oliver and Harry led him into a packed salon where men stood talking in groups.
The liquor was flowing and one of the women played a pianoforte in the far corner. Four men stood about her. Another woman was sitting in an alcove with a companion, and at the far end of the room two more were playing Three-Card Loo with other men. A crowd was gathering about them.
Oliver pressed a glass into John’s hand and John caught the eye of the woman at the pianoforte.
She smiled.
Her hair was a similar colour to Katherine’s and her smile was guileless.
John crossed the room. When she came to the end of her tune she stood and picked up a glass of champagne, then sipped from it. When her gaze caught his, she dropped a curtsy.
John smiled, well aware she was posturing to capture his interest. He knew these women were favouring him. He would be a coup because he did not normally enter their circles. He was not put off by it. But perhaps that was merely because she reminded him of Katherine.
‘The Duke of Pembroke, if I am not mistaken. This is the first time I have seen you here, Your Grace.’ Her voice was sweet. It did not have the urging lilt of a harlot.
‘That would be because it is the first time I have wished for such relief.’
‘I am happy to oblige.’ She smiled at his careless innuendo, anticipation suddenly shining in her eyes.
The sight of her desire stirred revulsion.
‘Your Grace.’ She touched his arm.
His distaste sharpened.
She was not Katherine. She was nothing like Katherine. And it was Katherine he wanted.
He put his almost full glass down on the pianoforte, turned away and left without bidding his cousins goodnight. How much longer would this pain endure? He could not bear it.
When he reached the street he breathed in the cold night air and gathered his thoughts as he walked home.
What would it matter if he married Katherine?
His blood was not really blue, it was as red as hers no matter that his family were descendants of medieval royalty, and she could learn everything he had learned to become a duke and become a duchess.
Was he really contemplating marrying her then?
Yes. I am.
If she accepted, it would be hard on her. Society would not easily accept her. But these people were fickle, and people would forget.
His family would support her, though. She could weather the storm. He would carry her through it. He would wait until after Mary’s ball and then go to her. The decision made, the weight in his chest became lighter.