Chapter 9
Seven Months Later
Caroline smiled as her nieces, along with Arabella’s husband Silas and Evelina’s new husband, the Earl of Blackburn, celebrated her birthday with a beautiful cake and cheers for her continued health.
Today she was thirty-nine and she both felt the weight of those years and also felt almost like she was starting over like girl on the cusp of womanhood.
The last year had been full of changes. Not only did she see Simone far more regularly, but she had also begun to paint, something she’d given up after her marriage.
And as for her sexual awakening, she far more regularly gave herself pleasure and she had long-ago given up trying to picture anyone but Simone as the lover in her dreams.
She was satisfied with her life. Well, mostly. But who was ever fully satisfied? That was asking too much of the world.
The others returned to their seats after their cheers to her health and well-being.
Caroline laughed as Evie was helped to her place.
She was very pregnant, due within a month or two, and it was pleasing to see how her husband, Vaughn, doted on her.
Their start had been rocky, but they were now deliriously happy, just as Arabella continued to be with Silas.
Caroline was happy for them, of course. She wished much the same love and devotion for Julia, who had been with a protector for a little while, though Caroline wasn’t particularly fond of the man.
But the other girls’ happiness only made her own lack of a partner all the sharper. Love was something she’d told herself didn’t exist and yet she saw it at the supper table of her beloved nieces on a regular basis.
“You look very far away, auntie,” Evelina said, reaching across the table to take her hand.
“Oh, just pondering my long years,” Caroline teased. “And thinking of how thankful I am to have such a dear family to spoil me.”
“You deserve to be spoiled,” Julia said with a bright smile for Caroline.
“Speaking of spoiled,” Arabella said with an arch look to her youngest sister as she cut Caroline’s cake and handed out slices to the table. “Julia, that necklace is lovely.”
Julia blushed and lifted a hand to cover the pretty dark blue jewel that dangled around her neck. “It’s paste, I’m fairly certain, but it is pretty. Laurence is…he’s generous?”
“Are you certain? That almost sounded like a question,” Evelina said between bites of cake.
Caroline glanced at Julia briefly. Over the years she’d grown accustomed to her nieces speaking about their lives as courtesans around her.
She hardly even blushed anymore, though she did often wonder what Simone would say in the conversations.
She brought her worries to Simone often enough and she was always kind enough to listen and comfort when they found each other out in the world.
She blushed at the thought and refocused.
“It’s—it’s not a question,” Julia insisted. “He pays for a house and buys me nice things and takes me to the opera and the Donville Masquerade.”
“I’m certain he benefits from Donville more than you do,” Silas said, exchanging a brief look with Arabella.
“We both benefit,” Julia said, and now her cheeks were bright. “After all, a courtesan should be seen at Donville.”
Caroline cleared her throat. “You’ve mentioned this place a time or two before, the Donville Masquerade. What is it exactly?”
Now both gentlemen and all three women exchanged even longer and more meaningful glances. Arabella shifted slightly and said, “Er…it’s not exactly a proper place. I’m sorry, Aunt Caroline, we ought not have been discussing it in front of you.”
Caroline rolled her eyes. “I doubt I’ll shatter into a million pieces from hearing about it. You’ve piqued my interest even more. Come, give me some crumb of detail.”
“It’s a…a club for those interested in making…
physical connections,” Silas said, because for some reason everyone looked at him.
That made Caroline blush even more than his words.
After all, the young man had been well-known for his wild side before he met her equally wild Arabella.
Together they were like fireworks and their bright, dazzling light was something magical to behold.
“Look at you, trying to be discreet,” Arabella teased him before she kissed his cheek and then winked at her aunt. “It’s a club where strangers go to…to…” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to put it anything but bluntly.”
“Then put it bluntly,” Caroline suggested. “I asked.”
“To fuck,” Arabella finished. “My apologies, Caroline.”
Caroline knew her eyes were wide. She was just barely exploring her own pleasure, the idea people went to clubs like this one her nieces were describing and just found gratification out in the open was shocking.
“Oh,” she murmured. “This is for courtesans and their lovers?”
“It’s a safe place for courtesans and lightskirts, yes,” Julia said quietly. “The proprietor makes sure of it. But there are proper ladies in attendance, too, and gentlemen who don’t have mistresses.”
“Proper ladies!” Caroline gasped. “You cannot be serious. How would they explain that if they were seen?”
“They’re masked,” Evelina said. “Most people who attend are masked to cover their identities. Though sometimes it’s obvious. Still, what happens in those walls does not leave them.”
“I see. Well, that sounds…freeing, if one were interested in such a thing.” Caroline ducked her head and hoped they wouldn’t read her expression too closely.
“Very,” Arabella agreed. “It’s a good place to see and take part in all permutations of desire. To thwart societal expectation and only act on carnal instinct.”
“You are bright as a plum, Caroline” Vaughn said. “I’m sorry if we shocked you.”
“It is shocking,” Caroline agreed, and allowed them to change the subject. But she continued thinking about the wicked things she had just learned. And she could admit, the idea of being anonymous and getting to explore some of what she’d only imagined was…tempting.
Would she dare go to such a place? Even just to see it, experience it without going further and looking to fulfill some of her fantasies?
Why not? She was a thirty-nine-year-old woman, with an unrequited desire for a courtesan who only thought of her as an innocent acquaintance.
She saw Simone regularly now, and their talks were always nice.
But there had never again been another moment where she thought Simone would kiss her. The courtesan kept a polite distance.
It was obvious something more would never happen. So if she wanted to explore herself, she’d have to do that with someone else. Some other woman, even. Or maybe now that she had found some of the desire she’d never allowed herself to express before, she would want a man.
Doubtful. She never thought of men at the heights of her pleasure. Never had any more interest in them at parties or gatherings when they tried to talk to her. Even less, perhaps.
“You are leagues away suddenly,” Evelina said.
Caroline shook away the thoughts and smiled. “I’m sorry, woolgathering. What were you saying?”
“We were talking about the baby’s nursery,” Vaughn said gently as he wrapped an arm around Evelina’s shoulders. “I hope you’ll come see it now that we’ve finished it.”
“Oh yes!” Caroline said, and didn’t have to pretend interest. “I cannot wait.”
But as she forced herself to let go of the topic of the mysterious Donville Masquerade, she still felt a pull to explore the wickedness that had been described. And she feared she wouldn’t forget that thought until she had done just that. The consequences be damned.
Simone had been without a protector for over five months after finally ending things with Harding and it was the longest stretch she’d ever had without a lover.
Friends had commented on it, playfully, and then with more concern.
Simone knew why. A courtesan without a protector was sought-after for a while, but after time she became forgotten, especially at the ripe age of thirty-six.
Her lack of partner came under scrutiny.
But Simone couldn’t make herself go back into the scrum of grasping men who bored her and negotiated over when to fuck and how much to pay for the privilege of attending the opera with her.
Thoughts of the opera led her to a flash of soft lips and even sweeter sighs, but she pushed it aside to focus on where she was.
She had come to the Donville Masquerade for…
well, she wasn’t certain why. The hell was known for sex and sin and was the perfect place to start the pursuit of a new lover.
But as she watched the swirling, gyrating, moaning crowd, she felt…nothing.
“Perhaps it’s time to pack it up,” she muttered to herself as she grasped the crystal glass of whisky she’d ordered from the flirtatious barman. “Go live in some pretty little cottage by the sea.”
With her.
She jolted at the thought. Those intrusive whispers had grown louder the longer she wasn’t with a new lover.
Thoughts of Caroline. They’d seen each other a great deal more over the past few months.
It was all very friendly and appropriate.
Except that Simone’s heart raced every time Caroline crossed a room to her.
Except that Caroline’s pupils dilated any time their hands brushed accidentally.
Except…except…except…
With a frown, Simone took a sip from her glass as she stared over the rim at the crowd once more.
She nearly choked because through the writhing bodies, she saw a woman who looked like Caroline.
She was facing away from Simone, but the lines of her body were very similar from the soft curve of her neck to the lovely hint of hips beneath a pretty spring green gown.