who accompanied them glittered. They wore frocks of blue, green, gold, silver, the bodices daringly cut, delicate skin protected from the cold with furs. Diamonds sparkled on bosoms and hair, cheeks were rouged, hair crowned with feathers. Long gloves hid slim arms but showed off bejeweled bracelets.
These were not the shy, young debutantes of society; they were courtesans.
As Violet watched, the red-haired lady next to Daniel wound her fingers around his arm and ran her other hand up his back to his shoulder. Daniel turned to laugh down at her, the smile on his face full of warmth.
Violet’s heart squeezed so hard she had to put her fist to her chest. She ducked back into the shadows, but Daniel never turned, never saw her.
Violet watched numbly as the group turned from the restaurant and sought waiting coaches. Daniel helped the red-haired woman up into his carriage with the same gallantry he’d used to assist Violet. He removed his hat as he stepped into the coach with the woman, followed by another gentleman and lady.
The other men and women swarmed into the rest of the carriages, but Violet scarcely noted them. Her gaze was all for Daniel, his broad arm that rested against the window, the flash of his face as he threw back his head and laughed at something.
The carriages jerked forward, moving off in the direction of theatres and cabarets.
Violet remained in place until they’d rumbled well away. She tried to force herself to stand upright, to leave the shelter of the passage to continue her way home.
She ended up against the dirty wall, half doubled over, her fists balled into her stomach. Sobs wracked her body, and tears streamed down her face.
Violet cried as her heart broke, the warmth of her night with Daniel dissolving before the heat in his eyes as he’d smiled at the courtesan.
Daniel was happy to see Richard Mason, an old university mate with a brilliant mind, but Daniel hated watching the man waste that brilliant mind on drink and sexual diversions.
The women Richard had brought for Daniel and his other friends were charming but they had nothing in their eyes. Before meeting Violet, Daniel would have happily dallied the night away with one or two of them, wallowing in a warm bed and all kinds of debauchery. Why not? Bodily pleasures must be sated or they distracted him too much. At least, that was his excuse.
But now Daniel had met Violet.
The looks the ladies gave him contained too much avarice. Daniel was rich, and they wanted him to move some of his money from his pocket to theirs.
He’d seen such sentiment all too often in the women his father used to bring home, and he wasn’t much interested tonight. Nor was Daniel interested in sating himself while remaining detached. Not appealing. Not after Violet.
He’d tried to call on her earlier this evening, but the prim landlady had informed him Violet and her mother had gone out. No, she didn’t know where, and it was their business, wasn’t it? Daniel had thanked her and departed.
In Richard’s carriage on their way to a cabaret, Daniel feigned exhaustion from his long balloon flight, mention of which brought boredom to the ladies’ eyes. Daniel contrasted this with the glowing excitement in Violet’s as they’d soared across the countryside.
When Daniel said he’d return alone to his hotel, Richard expressed genuine sorrow to lose Daniel’s company tonight. Daniel silently vowed to spend more time with the man. Richard needed true friends.
Daniel said good night to them in front of the cabaret, slipping a thick wad of banknotes into the hand of the red-haired courtesan to ease the sting of his leaving her. Her disappointment lessened considerably.
Richard and his ladies would be surprised to learn that after they entered the cabaret, Daniel left the glittering hotels, restaurants, theatres, and illicit casinos of the city to walk to a more frumpy side of town, replete with boardinghouses and shops for the poor but respectable.
More surprised to watch him stop across the street from one particular boardinghouse, step into the shadows of a closed shop’s doorway, and look up at the soft glow of a window opposite.
Daniel waited there until he saw the glow go out, then he kissed his fingertips toward the window and walked away.
Back on the glittering side of town, he entered his hotel room, truly tired now. Every lamp had been lit in the parlor of his suite, in anticipation of Daniel’s return, including the multiarmed gas chandelier and a host of wall sconces.
All these provided bright illumination for the figure of the girl child lying fast asleep on the scrolled French sofa, she curled up around herself, her red gold curls tumbling over her cheeks.
Chapter 14
Daniel stifled his dismay at the sight of the little girl. He lifted a throw from the armchair and draped it carefully over her. With any luck she’d continue sleeping.
The girl’s eyes popped open, gray and full of mischief that matched her mother’s—both the color and the mischief. She squealed in delight and sat up straight. “Danny!” she shouted in a voice that would wake half the hotel. “I waited for you!”
Daniel retrieved the throw from the floor and wrapped it around her again. “I see that, mite. What are you doing here? If you’ve run away from home again, your mum’s going to scold both of us something bad.”
“I didn’t run away.” Gavina Mackenzie smoothed her hair in a very grown-up gesture. “Only down the stairs. We’re staying in your hotel. Isn’t that grand, Danny?”
“Staying here? Who is?”
“All of us. Mum and Dad. And me. Stuart is with Aunt Eleanor, because he’s too little to travel all this way.” Gavina looked very pleased with herself that she at seven was more grown up than her four-and-a-half-year-old baby brother. “Mummy said we should stay here and surprise you.”
Daniel pressed his hands to his chest. “Consider me surprised.”
And a bit annoyed. Daniel loved his family, but the collective lot of them could never mind their own bloody business. Obviously Daniel’s stepmother Ainsley had dragged out of Ian where Daniel had gone and decided to rush off to France to find out what he was up to.
A tap at the door was followed by Ainsley Mackenzie herself. She was dressed for evening in a gray silk trimmed with maroon lace, her shoulders bare over small puffed sleeves. Tiny diamonds sparkled in her hair and at her throat—Richard’s courtesans in contrast had coated themselves with the things.
Ainsley had fair hair, which she’d dressed in the latest fashion, but somehow Ainsley never looked overdone or artificial. The spirit of her shone through, and Daniel regarded her fondly. She was the woman who’d rescued his father.
“Hello, Danny. I saw you come in.” Ainsley enclosed him in a lemon-scented hug. “Gavina wanted to wait in here for you. I forbade her, but I see she managed to get here anyway.”
“Without a key,” Daniel said. “What have you been teaching her, Stepmama?” In addition to her womanly charms, Ainsley was also an excellent picklock.
“The maid let me in,” Gavina said. “I said I was your sister and gave her a coin.”
She was learning young. Daniel leaned down and lifted Gavina into his arms. She was growing tall and strong.
“You haven’t answered the question, either of you,” Daniel growled. “Why are you here, Stepmama, and not in London helping Aunt Isabella run the Season? Or preparing to go to Berkshire for the training?” Ainsley and Daniel’s father moved to Berkshire every year so Cameron could prepare his horses for the racing season. The entire Mackenzie family would descend upon them there later in the spring, as per tradition.
