The Secrets of a Courtesan

Nicola Cornick

All's fair in love and matrimony in Nicola Cornick's wildly romantic new series that introduces the ladies of Fortune's Folly–spirited heiresses who are more than a match for society's most dashing rogues! The epitome of privilege and power, the handsome Duke of Welburn sets all the ladies' hearts aflutter as he strides into the village of Fortune's Folly. For Eve Nightingale this fluttering is a mixture of wariness and wonder. Once his glittering society mistress–caught up in his glamorous world by day and tangled in his bedsheets by night–she is now no more than a penniless yet proud shopkeeper.It's a world Eve can't go back to–she has secrets to keep. But this determined duke seems very keen on unravelling them. . . .

The Secrets of a Courtesan

Nicola Cornick

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Prologue

April 1809

Letter from Lord Hawkesbury, Home Secretary, to Alasdair Rowarth, Duke of Welburn.

Rowarth,

I write to you in absolute confidence, requesting your assistance on a matter of national security. Mutual acquaintances tell me that you are an utterly sound fellow. I am sure this is the case because I knew your cousin at Eton. So, Rowarth, here is the situation. For some time now this department has been investigating the criminal activities of one Warren Sampson, a mill owner who has acquired land around the villages of Peacock’s Oak and Fortune’s Folly in the North Riding of Yorkshire. Sampson is suspected of encouraging civil unrest and sedition and it is imperative that we put and end to his influence. Imperative, I tell you. The man is a blackguard, an utter scoundrel. And now we may have found a way but it is a matter of considerable delicacy. It involves a certain Mrs. Eve Nightingale or, as you may remember her, Eva Night…

Pray, call on me at your earliest convenience so that I may acquaint you with your task.

Yours in haste,

Hawkesbury.

Chapter 1

Fortune’s Folly, Yorkshire–May 1809

Eve Nightingale had never believed that her past would catch up with her. She had run too far and hidden herself too well to be found. And then she saw Alasdair Rowarth, Duke of Welburn, in Fortune’s Folly Market Square one morning in spring and knew that everything that she had striven for was in danger.

Eve had been shopping, browsing amongst the market stalls, taking her time to chat to the sellers and enjoying the sunshine. The winter had been long and bitter with so much snow that for a time the village, so high in the Yorkshire dales and fells, had been cut off from the outside world. Now that spring had finally arrived it had brought an influx of visitors, for Fortune’s Folly was a spa of some note, not as famous as the local town of Harrogate, but with health-giving mineral waters that were said to be far less disgusting to drink. And on this May morning the square was full of townsfolk and visitors taking the air, gossiping and strolling, perusing the goods in the shop windows, the ladies’ parasols a forest of bright colors against the sun, the gentlemen elegant in jackets of blue and green superfine. There was a sense of brightness and hope in the air after such a long and gloomy winter.

Eve had just placed a quart of milk and a piece of creamy Wensleydale cheese in her marketing basket when she felt a strange prickle that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. It was the unmistakable sensation that she was being watched. She turned slowly and met the dark gaze of a gentleman who was standing on the opposite corner of the street.

It was his absolute stillness that attracted her attention first when everyone around him was moving. That, and the fact that he was looking directly at her with a gaze so focused and intent that she could not escape the force of their connection. His head was uncovered and in the spring sunshine his hair gleamed with the colors of fallen leaves, bronze and auburn and dark gold. His eyes looked watchful, conker brown beneath straight, dark brows. He was very tall with a hard, handsome face as