The Harlot's Hero Read online

  Reluctantly, he led her back to the coach.

  ***

  Sephy put her hand to the second-story window as tears coursed down her cheeks. She had just glimpsed Hunter and Charlotte as they entered her carriage and drove off. Her heart plummeted, for any chance she had of rescue left with that conveyance.

  Darkness was starting to fall and she knew that Lord Gregory’s arrival was imminent, but either way, grief had replaced any fear she might have been feeling, for she knew that if she spent the night with such an evil man she couldn’t go back to Hunter. Even if he would have her, her conscience wouldn’t allow it. This was the same monster who had assaulted his elder sister. Knowing that she was another victim of Lord Gregory’s lewdness would be nothing more than a constant reminder of how Louisa continued to suffer and how he had failed Persephone.

  She refused to put him through such pain a second time.

  Sephy returned to the bed and sat down. A glance at the dressing table mirror showed that she was a mess. Her hair was in bedraggled disarray about her shoulders and streaks of moisture lined her face, but she didn’t even care. Perhaps she would get lucky and Lord Gregory would take one look at her and decide he didn’t want her after all, ending this ridiculous ruse before it even began.

  The sound of a key in the lock didn’t even cause her to turn around, nor her mother’s voice that followed. “Your duke is more enamored of you than I imagined, but I don’t think we’ll have any more interruption from him this evening.”

  Sephy didn’t even reply.

  “Come now.” Phryne moved to stand in front of her. “You mustn’t look so melancholy when Lord Gregory arrives. Don’t you remember my teachings that you must cater to a man’s pride in order to win him over?”

  She crossed her arms and glared at her mother. “You seem to forget that I’m not here of my own accord.”

  “That may be,” the madam agreed. “But things will likely go easier on you if you encourage his attentions.”

  “At this point, I could care less what he does to me. I’ll be condemned when this is all over either way, so why not boast a daring souvenir for my troubles?”

  The hard smack to her cheek was unexpected. It was the first time her mother had ever struck her. “You ungrateful chit! I’ve seen that you had a proper protector for the past five years. The least you can do is offer some recompense in return for this easy life you’ve been enjoying.” She swept toward the door as regal as any queen of her domain. “Now do what you’ve been brought up to do. See that you don’t fail me, for it won’t only be Lord Gregory’s wrath that you’ll be facing!”

  The door slammed shut, the lock turning with finality.

  Sephy sat there with her hand on her smarting cheek and wondered if her mother wasn’t right after all. She saw Hunter leave, so perhaps he’d already decided he was through with her. She was a harlot, after all, born to live a harlot’s life, and endure a harlot’s hardships. She had been given a reprieve all these years, so perhaps it was time that she succumbed to her fate. She wasn’t any better than the girls who worked for her mother. The only problem was that she’d allowed her heart to become engaged to a man who could never be hers. Granted, she might have let the fantasy overtake her for a time, actually believing that he might love her too, but Hunter was a duke and she was a woman with a past littered with scandal. She’d been fooling herself all this time thinking that he might actually marry her. The fairytale might have worked for someone like the Countess of Virsage, a courtesan by choice, but still had a touch of blue blood running through her veins. Sephy was just the bastard daughter of a harlot and a faceless man she’d never even met. If there was any noble blood running through her veins, she would never know it.

  Standing, Sephy wiped at her face and sat down at the dressing table. She picked up the powder and began to apply the makeup to her face with a shaking hand.

  It was time to live the role in life that she was meant to play.

  Chapter Eight

  “Falcourt? What the devil—?”

  “I need your help,” Hunter returned curtly as he interrupted the high stakes card game Viscount Darwood was in. “But we have to hurry. I’ll explain in the carriage.”

  “This better be good,” his friend grumbled as he reluctantly stood up and threw his cards on the table. As he gathered his cloak from the servant at the front door, he added, “You owe me fifteen pounds, by the way.”

  At the moment Hunter didn’t really care. He was just glad his instinct kept proving him right. He thought he might find Darwood at White’s, just as he could feel it in his gut that time was running out to rescue Persephone from Lord Gregory.

  As he climbed inside the countess’ coach, the viscount appeared slightly taken aback. “Lady Virsage. This is rather unexpected.”

  “Darwood.” She inclined her head. “I’m glad Falcourt was able to coerce you into assisting us.”

  “Indeed,” he returned dryly as Hunter settled himself and then rapped on the roof, where they set out once more. “I daresay I wasn’t given much choice. The duke rather accosted me in the middle of a winning hand of faro.” He lifted a brow. “Might someone tell me what I’m doing here?”

  “We believe that Miss Welton is being held against her will at her mother’s establishment.” Hunter paused meaningfully. “And that Lord Gregory means to use her as a pawn in some sort of nefarious revenge against me.”

  “I see,” the viscount murmured. “So, I suppose I get to play the hero?”

  Hunter clenched his jaw. “You will gain access to the house without causing suspicion and find Miss Welton and smuggle her outside.”

  Darwood seemed to consider this. “Sounds easy enough.” He snorted. “Except for the part where I don’t have an altercation with Lord Gregory and end up in gaol myself.”

  “Leave him to me,” Hunter said, his eyes firm as they landed on the viscount.

  There was a heavy sigh, and then Darwood said, “What do you want me to do?”

  After the plan had been discussed, they stopped the carriage far enough away that they wouldn’t be seen, but close enough that the viscount could spirit Persephone outside and make a quick getaway before they were caught.

  Darwood alighted and began to walk down the sidewalk toward the house.

  Hunter remained behind with the countess, but it was all he could do to bide his time. He wanted to break down the door and tear through every room until he found Persephone, but he knew this was the best way.

  “You truly care for her, don’t you?”

  He glanced over at the countess when she spoke up.

  She didn’t wait for a reply, but shrugged and went on, “Sephy talked so fondly about you from the letters you sent, but I was always afraid her heart would become engaged while yours remained distant. Now I can see that isn’t the case.”

  Hunter was quiet for a moment, and then he decided there wasn’t any point in concealing the truth. “I was going to ask her to elope with me to Scotland tonight.” He leaned back with a sigh. “I asked the king for his blessing, but he refused to give it, so I was going to take matters into my own hands, if she would have me.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you have to worry on that score.” She smiled. “I think she’s been in love with you since the night you won her at that ridiculous auction.”

  Hunter swallowed and prayed that the lady was right.

  ***

  Persephone looked at her reflection and decided that she had sunk about as low as she possibly could. Her face was pale with powder, as was her wig, her violet gown cinched at the waist with panniers and a full petticoat making her hips appear even wider. She looked the epitome of her mother’s daughter.

  She lifted her chin when it would have wobbled slightly. What she had shared with Hunter had been special and intimate, but after tonight, her life would be taking a rather abhorrent turn, one that would seal her destiny forever. She might resent this moment for the rest of her life, but her mother was righ
t, this was who she was. There was no use pretending she was any different.

  As the key turned in the lock, she slowly turned to face her fate. Her eyes widened in surprise because it wasn’t the monster she’d been expecting, but neither was it her mother. One of her mother’s girls was standing there looking rather concerned as she held a set of keys. A man who appeared somewhat familiar was with her, but Sephy couldn’t readily place him. “Miss Welton,” he bowed politely, as if he was addressing a lady of society, rather than a whore in a brothel. “I’m Viscount Darwood. I’ve been sent to retrieve you.”

  She frowned slightly, refusing to allow any hope to overcome her. “I thought Lord Gregory was coming here. I haven’t been informed in any change of plans.”

  “That’s because I’m here at the behest of the Duke of Falcourt.”

  With that revelation, Sephy put a hand to her fluttering stomach. “Hunter wants me back?”

  “Indeed. He’s waiting for us with Lady Virsage in her carriage, so if we have any hope of slipping out undetected before the madam realizes my lovely companion’s trickery…” He let his voice trail off as he glanced down the hallway and offered a grin for the woman at his side, who smiled broadly in return.

  Sephy needed no further incentive. While her time with the duke was still undoubtedly limited, she couldn’t resist taking the chance to see him again, even if it meant facing her mother’s wrath.

  The harlot shut and locked the door behind them as Darwood led Sephy toward the kitchens where the back entrance was located. Freedom was so close at hand that she could feel it, but she dare not shout victory too early, for fear that they would be caught trying to escape.

  She waited until they burst out into the mild night, and then she took her first deep inhalation. Fresh tears of relief stung her eyes. “Hurry,” the viscount said urgently, to which she complied. Keeping to the shadows at the back of the house, they had just returned to the street when the alarm was sent up behind them.

  “Stop her!” Her mother’s wild screech split the night air, causing Sephy to take flight. Darwood kept pace beside her, and together they ran until they finally reached the sanctity of the carriage. They climbed inside just as the sound of footsteps could be heard in pursuit.

  The coach jerked into motion before the door had even fully shut behind her, but she didn’t even think of the danger, her focus was centered on one man. The moment she saw Hunter, she threw herself into his arms with a sob. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” she whispered.

  “I told you that I would never leave you,” he said firmly, as he stroked a comforting hand down her back.

  Sephy closed her eyes. She wanted to believe that, but how could she know for sure? She reluctantly pulled back and turned to face the countess. She reached out and took the lady’s hand in hers with a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Charlotte.”

  “It’s what friends are for,” she returned softly. “And you have been a genuine one to me through the years.” Tears shone in her eyes. “I just wish your mother had opened her eyes to what was truly important. I would have given everything for her.”

  Sephy’s heart went out to Charlotte, but she relaxed against Hunter, who held her close to his warm, firm chest. She yearned to turn back the clock to the moment when she was curled up next to him in bed, where she could always believe that it would be that way forever, instead of the uncertainty that she currently faced. He might have devised a plan to free her, but where did they go from here?

  As they stopped in front of the duke’s townhouse, the place she had long thought of as home, they stepped to the ground just as the click of a pistol pierced the air around them.

  Hunter instantly shoved Sephy behind him as he faced off with Lord Gregory, who slowly exited the hackney behind them and trained the gun on him with a steady hand. “You have something that belongs to me, Falcourt.”

  “Miss Welton is my mistress.”

  “She was your mistress,” Lord Gregory corrected. “As of this evening, she is my property. She is mine in exchange for her mother’s debts.”

  “Then it appears you chose a losing hand, Lord Gregory,” Hunter said evenly. “Because Miss Welton isn’t going anywhere with you.”

  The man dared to laugh. “You don’t think so? Perhaps we should speak to the queen and see which man she will side with on this matter. I guarantee it will be me, for she has quite enjoyed my company of late to that of the insane man running our country.”

  Hunter stilled. “You’re having an affair with Queen Charlotte?”

  “Don’t look so surprised. It was how I’ve managed to move about London without any trouble.” He held out a hand. “Now, come along, my dear, unless you wish to see your lover’s blood spilled all over the street.”

  Sephy knew she would never forgive herself if anything happened to Hunter. She stepped to the side and held up her hands in surrender. “You win, Lord Gregory.”

  She started to move forward, but another click of a pistol came from her right. Darwood had his weapon trained on Lord Gregory, having exited the vehicle from the opposite side. “I’m afraid I also can’t allow this transaction to take place.” He smacked the side of the coach, which took off. “And if you must persist on this course, rest assured the countess has been sent to fetch the watch.”

  Lord Gregory didn’t appear concerned. “Your efforts will be futile. I told you I have the queen’s confidence.”

  Darwood lifted a brow. “Do you? Because the last I heard, you had fallen out of favor with her. She doesn’t appreciate being tossed aside for other women, which seems to be quite a habit with you.”

  For a moment, Sephy noticed that Lord Gregory’s confidence slipped slightly, but he recovered easily enough. He grinned tightly. “If that’s the case, then I should be leaving England.” He turned back to her. “But not without what I came for.”

  Hunter’s back visibly stiffened in front of her. “Over my dead body.”

  Lord Gregory shrugged. “That can be arranged. You’ve dogged my heels for years. Frankly, I’ll be glad to be rid of you.” As he lifted the gun with malicious intent, Sephy screamed and ran in front of the duke with her arms outstretched.

  Someone fired. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for the impact of the steel ball tearing through her skin, possibly ending her life right then and there, but the only thing that followed the shot was the acrid scent of gunpowder that filled the air.

  She opened her eyes to see the viscount’s pistol was smoking, while Lord Gregory clutched at his bleeding arm, his pistol having fallen from his useless fingers. “You bastard!” he snarled at Darwood, but when he would have made a move to retrieve his weapon, Hunter rushed forward and kicked it far out of his reach, and then delivered a punishing blow to his jaw, which sprawled him out on the ground, where he lay still.

  ***

  Hunter returned to Sephy, and she collapsed in his arms. As Darwood joined them, he reached out and clasped his shoulder. “Thank you, Avion.”

  The viscount merely nodded. “It was rather fulfilling to play the hero. I could certainly get used to it.”

  Hunter couldn’t help but laugh, and it felt wonderful to do so.

  A short time later, the countess returned with several men from the watch, who carted Lord Gregory’s limp form away.

  Persephone and the countess shared an exuberant embrace. “I’ll never be able to repay you,” she whispered to Charlotte.

  “I shall be quite compensated if I get to attend your wedding.” She winked at Hunter, while Persephone turned a becoming shade of red.

  A blushing harlot, Hunter thought in amusement. But, in truth, she had never been anything of the sort. She was just… his. And he intended for her to remain that way for many years.

  After Lady Virsage and Darwood took their leave, Hunter lifted Persephone into his arms. “I have plans for you this evening, my dear.”

  As he carried her over the threshold, she ripped the powdered wig from her hea
d and tossed it onto the floor. The red-gold hair that he’d been fascinated with from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her tumbled down her back as she took his face in her hands and gave him a kiss that carried more than passion. He sensed it carried all the love and devotion that she held in her heart.

  He returned the sentiment, and by the time they tumbled into his bed, they were both panting heavily. Clothes were discarded and thrown haphazardly about the room, so that by the time he finally sank into her wet heat, he shuddered at the sheer pleasure of being joined with her once more. His thrusts were deep and urgent, pushing them both to the brink of their resistance, until finally the dam burst and the waves of ecstasy crashed over them, more brilliant than anything Hunter had ever experienced before.

  He rolled onto his back; his entire body feeling as though it was weightless. As he eventually came back to his senses, he turned onto his side and cupped Persephone’s soft cheek in the palm of his hand. “Run away with me.”

  She laughed, her blue eyes sparkling with merriment as they lit on him. “You make it sound as though we are Romeo and Juliet, two star-crossed lovers who are forced to be apart.”

  While Hunter hadn’t meant to blurt out his feelings for her so awkwardly, he found that once the words began, they refused to stop. “I went to the king and told him that I intended to marry you, but he refused to give me his blessing.” He shook his head. “But I don’t need his approval. If you but say the word we will get in my carriage and go to Gretna right now, this very minute.”

  She stared at him a moment, and then climbed out of bed. As she drew on her robe, she frowned, “And you’re surprised that he would decline your request?” She set her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Hunter, in case you’ve forgotten, you’re a duke. I’m nothing more than your mistress, the common, bastard daughter of a harlot.”

  He blew out a breath and drew on his trousers and then joined her. He held her face in his hands and made her look at him. “You are not common. You claim that I saved you from Lord Gregory, but the truth is you rescued me from a life without love, because I love you, Persephone Welton. Do you hear me? I love you.”