The Harlot's Hero Read online

  “But would you?” he countered.

  “I don’t know you enough to form an opinion, Your Grace.”

  Hunter couldn’t help but smile. At least the girl was honest. So he decided to be the same. “To be frank with you, Miss Welton, I’m willing to offer you the chance of freedom. Live here, in this house, as my mistress.”

  She eyed him warily now. “For what purpose if you aren’t interesting in tupping me?”

  “A valid question, but one that will have to remain unanswered. Let’s just say that I have personal reasons for asking this as well.”

  “I see.”

  He wasn’t sure if that was true, but he went on regardless. “I will send you a monthly stipend that you may use however you wish, as well as my carriage for your personal use. The single stipulation I have is that you refrain from any… bed sport in my absence, otherwise my benevolence would be for naught.”

  She tilted her head and a lock of her golden red hair fell forward. Hunter knew that, in time, she would be an incomparable beauty. “And where is it that you are planning to spend most of your time?”

  He glanced down into the liquid still swirling in his glass. “There is a man whom I am determined to bring to justice. He injured a member of my family, but I cannot prove his guilt. I received word that he plans to leave the country for a time and travel to India. I intend to follow him and keep a record of his actions.”

  Her eyes widened slightly at this. “You would devote your life to pursuing him?”

  He nodded firmly. “I would.”

  As silence fell between them, he finished the last of his drink and finally broke the tension. “What do you say, Miss Welton? Shall you be my mistress? Or shall I return you home tomorrow morning with the impression that I’ve despoiled you?”

  She considered the prospect for a time, but it didn’t last long. She strode forward and stood on her tiptoes to give him a chaste kiss that would haunt his dreams for years to come. “I accept your proposal, Your Grace.”

  Chapter Two

  Five years later…

  Sephy hummed a tune as she strode down Bond Street, a footman trailing her with several boxes in his arms. Her reputation as a well-paid courtesan was no secret to the shopkeepers who scrambled to serve her, but today was the first time she had ever taken precedence over a countess.

  After years of vying for respectability, the hour had finally arrived.

  It was all thanks to her savior.

  Of course, she thought of the duke from time to time, wondering how things were faring in India. Hunter wrote to her, surprisingly enough, and over the years a certain kinship had begun to strike up between them. She had a personal correspondent who relayed tales of Asia. At times, he would even send her bright scarves and jewelry that he’d procured, reminding her that she was never far from his thoughts either.

  She imagined him as some distant admirer, and each time a letter or package arrived, she squealed with delight. The last thing she’d received had been sent on her twenty-second birthday. It was a jade elephant with emerald eyes and she’d instantly fallen in love with it. The trinket sat on her bedside table where she could admire it every night.

  Sephy instructed the driver to take her to her mother’s house. When she arrived, the lackey opened the door. “Good day, Miss Welton.”

  “Abraham.” She greeted him with a bright smile. “Where can I find my mother?”

  He gestured to the right. “She’s in her private parlor.”

  Sephy had trod upon these same marble floors for years before she’d moved into the duke’s affluent residence, and yet, the thought of Hunter returning and casting her out struck fear into her heart. She had become so accustomed to a life free of the horrors she’d witnessed as a child, ones she hadn’t even understood at the time. But with each year that passed, she knew she might very well be living on borrowed time. He had saved her when she had been younger, but at some point he would be thinking of settling down with a wife and starting a family.

  It would be a future that didn’t include her.

  She tamped down her anxiety and knocked on her mother’s door. Once she was bade enter, she walked in to see the lady wearing a pair of reading glasses, which she promptly removed. She didn’t like anyone knowing her weaknesses when it came to getting older, even her only child.

  “My girl!” Phryne greeted enthusiastically. As usual, she was completely put together, the powdered wig that she still refused to part with perched on her head. “What brings you by on this lovely spring day?”

  “I have a gift for you,” Sephy gushed. She reached into her reticule and pulled out several pound notes and laid them on the desk.

  Her mother gasped. “What is this for?”

  “Ever since Jade left, I know you’ve been struggling to find someone to replace her. Perhaps this will help until you can.” She decided not to dwell on the fact that her mother was an inveterate gambler and most of the fortune that Sephy had gained from her association with the duke was nearly gone.

  “Oh, you are just too precious for words.” She reached out and embraced Sephy. “I knew you would be my gem the moment you were born.”

  Sephy held back her emotion, for while she wanted to believe that her mother meant her arrival into this world, she knew she meant her looks and her ability to become a celebrated courtesan. If only her mother knew the truth — that she was still as pure as the day she’d sold her virginity. In the intervening years following the duke’s departure and absence, she’d kept her promise, for the comfortable existence she’d been enjoying was all due to Hunter’s benevolence. The least she could do was uphold her end of the bargain.

  After a time, Sephy took her leave and returned home, for it was how she thought of the duke’s townhouse. She paused to glance up at the opulent exterior and remembered the first day the duke had brought her here. Such a grand residence had fascinated her, but as much as she enjoyed her time here, it wasn’t truly home.

  She shook her head, refusing to dwell on anything maudlin, and focusing instead on the present.

  She readied herself for supper and entered the dining hall where she took her meals. She ate in silence, the scrape of her fork on the plate echoing through the room. Feeling restless, she pushed the rest of her uneaten food away and sighed. She wiped her mouth with her napkin and focused instead on her wine.

  She thought of the items she’d purchased that day, upstairs in her chamber, but even shopping had lost some of its luster of late, as had attending the theatre and various other events. At first it had been glamorous and exciting to have so much leisure time to do as she pleased, but she found that it quickly became rather boring when one continually had to go alone.

  For the first time in weeks she allowed her mind to focus on Hunter. He’d been gone so long that she had nearly forgotten how he’d looked. But more importantly, she wondered how much he might have changed. Was he coming any closer to gaining justice on the man he’d been pursuing? He never spoke of Lord Gregory in his letters, nor the women he’d likely taken to his bed, for she had no doubt he was as chaste as she’d been. But considering he was sacrificing much to see to her welfare, she had no cause to complain.

  While Sephy didn’t wanted to admit it, every time she returned to visit her mother, she cringed just imagining everything that was transpiring up those stairs. It was not a life she would want for herself anymore. But after she left the duke’s house, what other choice would she have but to do so in order to survive?

  Again, she shoved such dark thoughts away as she readied herself for bed and finally fell into a restless slumber.

  She awoke when it was still dark.

  At first she wasn’t sure what had disturbed her slumber, but then she heard some commotion coming from downstairs. With a frown, she grabbed her robe and tied it as she left her bedchamber.

  She was halfway down the stairs when she realized that there were two footmen holding a sizeable trunk between them. But it was the man sta
nding in the midst of the expanse that caused her to gasp.

  The Duke of Falcourt had returned.

  ***

  Hunter was more weary than he ever remembered, but then, it had been a rather tedious journey all the way from India. Days of sailing, followed by dusty and grueling travel had finally led him to the one place he’d dreamed about ever since he’d stepped off English shores in pursuit of the evil man who’d defiled his sister.

  But his persistence had paid off, for Lord Alabaster Gregory had been arrested the moment they returned to London. Relief had swept through Hunter as the vile creature had been carted away.

  At long last it was over and he was finally home.

  As the footmen took his trunk away, the fine hairs on the back of his neck rose, right before he heard the gasp. He slowly turned to see a vision in a white nightdress and robe, frozen mid-way on the stairs. His throat went dry, for his little vixen had matured quite admirably during his absence. He could see her feminine outline quite clearly, and the red hair that had haunted his dreams since he’d left was even lovelier than he remembered.

  But even though he’d paid a great deal of money to keep her safe while he was away, that didn’t give him the right to assume authority over her now, even if his body might demand otherwise in spite of the changes that time and maturity had wrought.

  He bowed slightly. “Miss Welton.”

  Instead of offering the same solemn greeting, she surprised him by rushing down the rest of the stairs and launching herself into his arms. “I’m glad you’re back,” she whispered against his chest. “I missed you.”

  Hunter hesitated but a moment before he put one arm around her, the other one cradling the back of her head. He closed his eyes at the soft, warm feel of her body pressed up against him. He’d yearned for this almost as much as his own country.

  Although his time in India had been a rather enlightening experience, he had yearned for things that only England could provide, like Yorkshire pudding and stag hunts — and this woman. Even though he had known Miss Welton a brief time before he’d left her, she had made a lasting impression on him. He had seen her smile in every woman’s face, her blue eyes in every wave of the ocean, and her hair flowing in the breeze in every crowded street he’d traversed. It was her letters that had kept him afloat during the most trying of times.

  She pulled back to lift on her tiptoes and kiss him lightly on the lips. It was a simple, yet modest welcome, but one that caused Hunter’s blood to rush through his veins and his cock to throb with anticipation. However, he forced his urges aside and gently set her away from him.

  “That is the best homecoming a man could have, but I fear we will have to talk at length in the morning. I need a bath, some food, and a good night’s rest.”

  He thought he saw disappointment cross her features, and yet, she pasted on a smile. “I’ll see that it’s taken care of right away.”

  She rushed off and Hunter couldn’t help but chuckle at the simple sight of her bare feet. The seventeen-year-old girl he’d purchased all those years ago was still present and that was enough of a reminder to erase the amusement from his face and climb the stairs with a heavy trod. He’d vowed to never treat her as ill as his sister had been treated at the hands of Lord Gregory. A woman was to be cherished and adored, not treated as though she was put on this earth merely to slake a man’s lust.

  He walked through the door of his chamber where the footmen were already filling up the copper tub. He removed his jacket and tossed it over the side of a chair, allowing his waistcoat and cravat to follow. He stared at the discarded items and realized that he would have to employ a valet again. However, after years of fending for himself, it was odd to have servants wait on him once more.

  But apparently his return in the middle of the night had aroused everyone, for not only did a maid bring in a silver tray, but the butler followed her with a deep, respectful bow. “Your Grace. It’s good to have you back in residence after such a long absence.”

  “Thank you, Matthews.”

  He gestured to Persephone who had just entered. “You will be glad to know that Miss Welton took good care of things while you were gone. She also has a particular head for business that increased some of your holdings.”

  His gaze took in her proud, beaming grin. “I never had a doubt. I knew she was remarkable the moment we first met.”

  After all the servants took their leave, Hunter was left alone with his mistress. He lifted a brow at her. “Was there something you needed?”

  “No.” She walked forward slowly. “I just thought you might need help washing your…” Her lashed fluttered. “Back.”

  Bloody hell. This woman was going to make him lose his mind the first night he was home. “I can manage, thank you,” he returned evenly.

  He turned away, hoping that would be the end of it.

  “I don’t mean to be a pest, but after all this time, I feel as if I owe you… something for all you’ve done for me.”

  Hunter hung his head and reluctantly turned back to face her. She looked so unsure and lost in that moment that he couldn’t help but walk over to her and lay his hands gently on her shoulders. “Everything I’ve done for you was a gift freely given. There were no strings attached, only a simple bargain.”

  She visibly swallowed. “And I have done as you asked.” Her blue eyes were wide and direct. “I am still chaste.”

  Heaven help me. He reached up and lightly caressed her cheek. “Then you have fulfilled your part. You don’t have to lay with me to feel as though payment is required upon my return.”

  Silence, then, “But what if I want you to take me to your bed?” she whispered. She reached out and put her hand on his chest, directly over his pounding heart. “You’re my savior, the man who saved me from a dark fate at the hands of someone you claim was a cruel monster. I’ve been alone for so long, anticipating your return where we might find joy in each other’s arms. Will you deny me that single pleasure?”

  Hunter closed his eyes against the inviting vision in front of him. She would easily tempt the restraint of a monk, but he must not give in. He would not become a vile man like Lord Gregory. For the past five years he’d survived by taking himself in hand and he would continue to be celibate, no matter how enticing Miss Welton might be.

  He shook his head. “Please, don’t ask this of me. I have made a vow to myself to abstain from sexual acts. I’ve seen the path that others have taken in order to satisfy their lust, and I will not be a slave to my own desires. I will not treat you like a rutting animal.”

  She shook her head. “I know you, Hunter. I have lived vicariously through your letters. Each one was as important to me as the air I breathe. Through the years, I’ve come to know the man behind those enchanting words. You would never treat me with such disrespect.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair and spun away from her. “You will not change my mind. I shall stand firm.”

  The air around them was charged with tension. Finally, she said, “Very well. I won’t force you to do something you don’t wish to do.”

  With that, the door softly shut behind her and Hunter collapsed on the edge of the bed, his head in his trembling hands.

  ***

  Sephy shut her bedroom door, and then leaned against the hard wood. In all her years of being taught how to pleasure a man in every way, finding a way to a man’s heart was something she didn’t know how to do.

  Hunter was the one man she desperately wanted to satisfy — in every way.

  But how could she get past that tough, outer shell if she didn’t even know why he chose to close himself off from her?

  Perhaps it was time she began to make a few discreet inquiries about her protector. Until his return, she had been too focused on living the comfortable life of a courtesan, but she realized how foolish she’d been, that those fantasies were built on nothing more solid than a pile of sand. With the snap of his fingers he could have her thrown out and sent back to her mot
her’s house where she would become the Whore of Babylon that she was always meant to be.

  However, after five years on her own, living a lavish lifestyle, she knew such a life was no longer enough for her. She would become a seamstress before she fell so far as to follow in her mother’s footsteps. She might have been trained as a harlot, but she preferred to be like the Biblical Rahab, a ruinous woman of virtuous deeds.

  But before she left Hunter and they went their separate ways, she intended to rescue him from whatever demons haunted his soul. It was the least she could do after he’d saved her from Lord Alabaster Gregory’s perversions.

  Determination replaced any disappointment she had as she walked over to her writing desk and sat down to pen a letter to a trusted confidante.

  Chapter Three

  Hunter walked in the dining room with a bit of reservation. He wasn’t sure what his reception would be from Miss Welton this morning after he’d rebuffed her advances the night before. In his experience, many women acted rather nasty after being ignored, but the sight of the angel seated at the head of the table looked anything but vengeful. In truth, the very sight of her caused a desperate ache of longing in his chest.

  She looked even more appealing than she had last night with her glorious red-gold hair pulled up into a charming chignon. She was at the head of the table eating eggs and ham while she perused the latest gossip rag. It was such a perfectly charming sight that he stood in the doorway for a moment just to appreciate the sight.

  However, she must have felt she was being watched for she lifted those enchanting blue eyes and offered him a smile that nearly struck him down with its brilliance. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

  “Good morning,” he murmured in return, forcing his legs to carry him over to the sideboard where he selected a few tempting delights, although none was as mouthwatering as the woman seated at his table.

  As he walked over to join her, she started to rise. Her cheeks reddened slightly as she began to move her things. “Pardon me. I’ve just become so used to sitting here—”