Chapter Seventeen After #3
“Most of these people aren’t here to partake in Paradise,” Cat said over her shoulder to Fell. “The Quarter has its fair share of entertainment outside the bedchamber.”
She gestured along the street level, where musicians performed for pennies and taverns dueled for customers. Captain Fell lingered, clearly eager to drift into a bar instead.
But Cat pulled him along, following the tide, until they washed up into the courtyard of the villa.
Cat admired the doors as they entered, marveling at their complexity.
A master artist had carved the mahogany into an intricate pattern of tropical flowers: jasmine and orchid and lobster claw.
And beneath the perfectly placed petals, curving bodies in various states of undress, all their faces tipped skywards to the stars.
The courtyard was less chaotic than the street, but just as boisterous.
Both men and women of the Quarter, marked by green silk and red flowers in their hair, roved through, smiling at potential customers.
Others sat, some two to a chair, to preen and watch.
The patrons were just as varied. Cat spotted gray-haired tycoons, vibrant young officers, and rough-handed laborers keen to spend what little coin they had saved.
She was not the only woman amongst them either, making it easier to blend in.
Most, Cat noted, looked as she did, well-dressed and wide-eyed, on the arm of a man or woman escorting her.
Cat was careful to keep her face downturned, using the shifting shadows and lantern light to her advantage.
She doubted there were any pirates brave enough to sail into Alvaris these days, but if they were, they would certainly be in the Quarter.
Not to mention any one of the Duchess’s girls and boys who managed to flee Archenport.
They would know Cat Rose on sight. And she could not risk being recognized, not in a crown colony.
Not yet.
Servants deftly navigated the courtyard, carrying rum, taquil, and wine for the patrons.
As a tavern proprietor herself, Cat was impressed by their quickness.
Glasses did not remain empty for more than a few seconds.
The more the customers drank, the more likely they were to pay into the coffers of the Paradise Quarter.
Some patrons were quick in their endeavors, filtering into the adjoining houses, following their chosen companions for the evening.
Their silhouettes flickered in windows behind sheer curtains, leaving little to the imagination.
Cat ventured the courtyard would echo with cries of pleasure and delight if not for the chatter of many voices in many languages, the music of the fountains, and the fiddler songs filtering in from the street.
She had never taken anyone here by the hand, but she still warmed at the thought.
There were more than a few attractive men bearing red flowers, all doing their best to entice patrons.
She could not help but eye a lean figure with long blond hair, his shirt discarded to show a sculpted chest and tattooed arms. But when he felt her glance, raising his eyes to Cat’s, a cold wave rushed her.
His eyes were molten brown—the color of earth, not the sea.
You would not find him in a brothel, nor should you wish to, she chided herself.
The largest fountain gurgled in the middle of the courtyard, complete with two naked women basking in the shallow water.
A third poured wine into their mouths, laughing as another man watched all three of them.
It was hardly the most scandalous sight in such a place, but Cat wondered if Jasper Fell might lose his nerve.
He stared openly, face red as the lanterns, forcing Cat to move him along.
“If you’re going to gawk, don’t be so obvious,” she hissed. “Or pay for their time.”
He sputtered as they moved, ever a nuisance. “As you noted, I have never paid a woman for her time in my life—”
“Say it louder,” Cat said, her eyes a flash of warning. “You know I don’t need you here. Go back to the ship if you must.”
Some of the blush receded from Fell’s face and he adjusted his vest, smoothing it into place. He leaned, teeth gritted, putting himself at Cat’s eye level. Despite the surroundings, his discomfort did not outweigh his resolve.
“I know you think I’m an idiot, but I’m not that much of an idiot,” he said.
Cat could not help but heave an exasperated sigh, made more taxing by the tight fit of her bodice.
“Then find yourself a good vantage point, don’t make a fool of yourself, and let me work.”
His steel glare sharpened. “I’m still not clear on what you intend to do, exactly.”
She threw back her shoulders, knowing exactly what it did to her collarbone and breasts. To his credit, Fell’s gaze never wavered from her eyes.
“Would you like the details?” Cat murmured.
His lips twisted. “Certainly not.”
“Good,” she spat, unhooking her arm from his. “Have a drink, keep an eye out for sailors, eavesdrop if you can. Try not to look so out of place. If I’m not back in an hour, wait longer.”
“Cat—”
But she spun on her heel, leaving Jasper Fell to fend for himself in a garden of temptation.